Gordon had explained on the ship ride that very few families in Grabosh owned whole buildings. Instead, many families would live in one big villa, sharing a kitchen, a bath and a laundry area. Each family also got a few bedrooms around a communal courtyard.
Gordon led me to the door to his part of the building. He fished a calloused hand through his linen sack and pulled out an iron key.
He unlocked the door and stepped into a dark and dusty room. 
Something is wrong. 
Islanders can see perfectly well at night, the light of the stars and either of Mar's two moons is more than enough for us to see by. Which is why we feel confident sailing at night, or why few orcs had bothered to set up light sources on any of the streets outside. 
The only time we islanders needed a light source was on overcast nights, which were rare in the Crater Sea, or inside enclosed spaces. Like inside our houses.
The shutters in Gordon's room were shut tight. Normally even on cold nights, islanders leave the shutters open a crack, to let in starlight. What's even stranger is that the room is filthy. Dusty and littered with long dried-out dirty dishes, desiccated food scraps and a heavy scent of rancid cum.
This isn't normal.
Islanders are generally quite tolerant of mud, and dirt and even enjoy fresh mosses and lichens. But we do possess a very delicate nose when it comes to rot, body odour, decay and other things which bring disease. Gordon's room has been abandoned, locked up tight for months at the least and not cleaned between infrequent uses. This was not the healthy islander way.  
"Make yourself at home," Gordon says, apparently apathetic to the retched scene we'd just walked into. He steps between the stacks of refuse to unbolt the door that goes to the villa's communal courtyard.
"The door to the women's bath is across the courtyard from here, the water will be hot. I'll neaten up a little then find us some supper." Well, at least he isn't planning on ignoring the mess. Still, something is off here.
"Where's your wife?" I ask him.  
Gordon looked around his home. "I've been gone quite a while. Longer than usual. She must have gone to stay with family, she doesn't normally leave such a large mess though." 
Oh, I guess his wife just hosts absolutely rager orgies while he's gone. And then doesn't tidy up. I guess that isn't as far from the islander way. We're more relaxed about some things.
"Go bathe, you stink, we can clean the house together tomorrow. And I'll see if I can contact my wife tomorrow for an explanation too." That works I guess. I'm not thrilled about sleeping in such a dirty room though.
I cross the courtyard to find the women's bath. I'm mostly illiterate in Graboshen, but I can read enough of the sign to be sure I found the right place. Inside is a small antechamber to disrobe in, which leads into a large steam-filled room with a few chatting women. All in various stages of relaxing and cleaning themselves. After 2 weeks on a ship with men, and especially after the uncomfortable situation in Gordon's room, the sight of relaxed women honestly helps calm my nerves a lot.
The bathroom has two gargoyle like statues coming from one wall, each with steaming hot water pouring continuously from their jaws. One stream flows into a large rectangular pool for soaking. While the other rains down over a drain, where I assume I can rinse off under a shower of hot water. This is without a doubt the fanciest room I've ever been in.
A while later, and I think I might of over overindulged in the bath. The only way I could bathe in hot water back on Perrifare was if I lugged buckets of spring water into a big cauldron, lit a fire, waited for the water to heat and then pour it into the half barrel my family used as a bath. Which takes a very long time, so my family would only bother to do so on special occasions. But even then the archipelago traditions mean my father would always bathe first, then my brothers, then my grandma, then my mother, and then finally, me. This meant for all my work I would only get to sit in tepid, dirty water, which would frankly leave me smelling worse than when I entered. Most of the time I would bathe by wiping myself down with warm water from the stove.
So to be able to sit for as long as I like in steaming hot clean water, while housewives and grannies ask about me, my isle and my journey so far, honestly, it would be hard not to lose track of time.
The women of the villa were curious at first about who I was and what I was doing in their bathroom. I don't actually know very much Graboshen, so it took a while for me to explain I was staying with Gordon. Once they figured out what I was trying to say, they relaxed and made me feel welcome.
I learnt Graboshen from my parents only so I could barter with the sailors who visited Perrifare. The more conversational topics the women were discussing were way beyond me though, but they did try to involve me. Gordon apparently knew most of the common languages in the Crater and spoke the Southern Archipelago's Picklish fluently when speaking with me.
Interestingly I noticed every woman here has at least 1 rare feature. They're all very large she-orcs with I'd guess mostly ogre blood, with just a few smaller women with a touch more goblin. But even being more ogre than orc, the range of skin colours they have is extreme. Goblins and small orcs come in a wide range of colours, while ogres and large orcs are almost always closer to grey or green. Most of this villa's she-orcs though are blue or red or purple. 
The only green she-orcs all have other rare traits instead, one has a short tufted tail, suggesting maybe a drop of troll blood. Another grandma has a single stubby antler, probably meaning she's descended from some rarer breed of ogre. Another has brown eyes. 
Together we might be the most diverse group of women in the Crater.
After two and a half hours I return to Gordon's room feeling much better. 
While I was gone he'd made an impressive effort to clean. The dirty dishes had been stacked neatly in a corner and the refuse was gone. He'd swept the floor and even dusted a table and two chairs for us to sit on. The room still smelt a bit of rancid cum, but it was airing out at least. He'd opened the shutters a crack and lit a candle in the hearth so there was plenty of light for our islander eyes.
On the table, he had placed some food. My mouth watered at the first fresh food I'd smelt in months. There were fried zucchini flowers stuffed with cheese, shellfish, spiced roast sea-beast diced and tossed with a green salad, cucumber and yoghurt. 
"I've already eaten, so go ahead," Gordon said from a corner of the room where he was unpacking bedding from a cupboard. At least the bedding seemed clean. 
I realised Gordon had also already gone and washed himself, I really spent far too long bathing. He had changed into blue linen pants and a soft-looking grey poncho with golden silk and azure seashells embroidered into its collar. He looks quite sharp despite his age. His clothes also look a lot more expensive than I expected.
I inhale the food and help Gordon spread out two of the thin square mattresses we islanders like to sleep on.
I change into the last pair of clean underwear I have left from my journey. While Gordon fully disrobes. I blow out the candle and make my way back to my mattress, guided by the small amount of starlight that slips through the cracks in the shutters. 
I had placed my mattress a few metres away from Gordon's. I felt a little embarrassed about being in my underwear around a strange man, but I suppose we fought the marmaluke together so we were friends. But even worse was seeing Gordon sitting naked on his own mattress. 
I guess it's another way the Southern Archipelago is more modest than the central island, he didn't even offer me a sheet to cover myself with. Although it's a warm Crater evening so I suppose I probably wouldn't have wanted it anyway, but he could have offered at least. 
After a few minutes of trying to fall asleep later, I roll over to try to get comfy. When I open my eyes a little I'm stunned to see Gordon still sitting upright naked on his mattress. But now he's stroking his giant cock!
I don't feel safe, what kind of creep does this? Was Gordon such a pervert this whole time? No that's unfair to Gordon. He's been working for weeks straight and probably hasn't had time to unwind. He can relax in his own home.
But he's looking at me! The starlight from the crack in the shutters is too dim to see well, but I can clearly make out him stroking his dick. 
And the light is catching his orange eyes! He's looking right at me! 
He's just pent up. He spent the day with a young woman and I know I'm eye-catching. Besides it's not like I've never seen a guy wank before, I shared my room with older brothers as a kid, it's normal for islanders to be more relaxed about sex. 
But my brothers never looked at me while doing it! They only did it when they thought I was asleep and they faced away! I know they would never look at me while doing it! 
So? I only have my eyes open a crack right now, Gordon must think I'm asleep, or at least oblivious.
That doesn't mean he can do this! I don't want him to do this near me! I especially wouldn't want him to do this while I was asleep! I didn't consent!  
So what if he didn't ask me for this? He's incredibly manly, not only are his arms almost as thick as my waist and his cock huge, but his tusks are great! With his mouth closed they almost go up to his eyes! He's a bit old but 30 years ago he would have been a hunk! I should just relax. It's a compliment that a guy like him even noticed me! 
But I don't care what he looked like 30 years ago! I wouldn't care if he was a hunk right now! I don't feel safe and I want to leave!
Gordon speeds up his stroking for a few moments before he tenses. A thick stream of cum erupts from his cock, it flies over his mattress and splatters on the floor between our beds.
I pee less than that, what the fuck! 
I feel dirty, I don't think any got on me but I feel like I want to go back to the bath. Actually, I want to leave this villa and never look back.
It's over at least. Gordon watches me for a few more minutes before rolling onto his side and presumably falling asleep.
I lie in uncomfortable silence for what feels like hours. I can't leave because I don't know where else to go, so I lay there silently in case he tries anything else.