Morgan and Issa rode over to the circled wagons. The Cadwalli started to clamber out from behind their cover and gather in a group, watching the two of them approach. As Morgan and Issa neared, an older Cadwalli woman wearing a beaded leather skirt and vest strode forward, waving her hand. "Welcome, heroes! Welcome!" Her voice was a high tenor and carried over the ground like a trumpet. Morgan saw Issa wave to the woman, so he did likewise.

"Hello, friends." Morgan pulled up his roladii a few feet from the group and slid from the saddle. He walked forward to the woman with steel gray hair, large goat-like eyes, and twitching ears, reached out a hand, and she clasped it in both of hers. Morgan noted the black, hard nails on her fingers.

"We owe you everything. Please share our camp tonight, and let us feed you and toast your victory with our finest wine!"

"We'll be happy to be your guests, but please don't feel indebted. We only did what we would for any travelers in distress. My name is Issa, and this is my mate, Morgan." Morgan looked at her askance; did she really have to introduce him that way to everyone?

"Morgan, your battle with the Shadeni Overlord was a sight to behold!" This exclamation came from a younger male Cadwalli, who strode forward to stand next to the matron.

"Hush, Gulli; that was a Ban-tok. They don't call their leaders Overlords." The matron looked back to Morgan and Issa, smiling warmly. "This is my son, Gulli. I am Hundla, the Cloudsinger of this flock, and I welcome you. Please come within our wagons, and we'll make you comfortable." The group of Cadwalli muttered, shouted, or stamped their feet in agreement, and Morgan and Issa followed them into their wagon circle.

The Cadwalli spent the next several minutes widening their circle for more comfort, staking their herd on one end of the clearing and creating a cookfire on the other. Morgan and Issa were ushered into a pair of canvas camp chairs, given a large mug of honeyed mead, something Hundla called yingberry wine. As the sun was starting to set, the Cadwalli seemed pleased with their camp and began to relax, but Morgan noted that at least four were atop their wagons, keeping watch at all times. "They certainly seem friendly," Morgan said to Issa while they watched the Cadwalli bustling around camp.

"Yes, Cadwalli are good folk, generally. They're people, like any race, though, and there are bad apples among them. These herders seem genuine, though. I'm looking forward to what they'll feed us!" Issa sighed contentedly and took a big drink of her mead.

"Are you getting drunk already? This stuff is pretty strong, isn't it?" Morgan chuckled. Issa nodded, her cheeks flushed to a light shade of purple, and she reached a hand over to hold onto his.

"So I'm your mate, now, am I?" Morgan raised an eyebrow at Issa.

"Of course! You wouldn't think I'd share you with others, would you?" She squeezed his hand. Morgan smiled and kissed her on the cheek.

"No, I wouldn't. Not any more than I want to share you, which would be not at all."

"Excuse me! Do you two enjoy holbyis chops? Marna has a fantastic recipe for a jelly marinade." Morgan looked up from canoodling with Issa and saw that Hundla had approached and was putting out another chair for herself next to Issa. Several other Cadwalli were gathering around the fire.

"I've never had them, but I'm sure they’ll be wonderful," Morgan said, and Issa nodded along with him.

"I love meat in general," Issa added, grinning, her full set of sharp teeth on display. Morgan chuckled and took another big pull of his mead; he had a hard time thinking of any drink not made from grapes as wine, though he figured he might have to start revising his conceptions the longer he spent in this world.

"More wine!" Hundla called out, and one of the younger Cadwalli females came around with a wineskin nearly as large as her torso to fill everyone's mugs. They laughed and talked for hours around the fire while the Cadwalli cook prepared their dinners. Morgan didn't think they made such a production of dinner every night they camped, but they were clearly trying to provide something special for him and Issa.

When the food was ready, Morgan and Issa were given ceramic plates piled high with a fruit and lettuce salad dressed in a tangy, oily sauce and a sizable chop of meat with a sweet and spicy jam slathered on it. Morgan tasted the meat and found it very similar to lamb, and he was glad of the jam sauce to counteract the strong gamey flavor. The combination truly was delicious. With full bellies and buzzing heads, the group of travelers sat around the fire, enjoying the warmth of the coals and their mutual company.

"Morgan and Issa, do you hail from far away?" Hundla asked after a while.

"Not really, no. Just a day or two's hard ride. Our community is east of here through the Gresh Woods."

"The Gresh Woods? Aren't they crawling with Yovashi?" Hundla visibly shivered at the thought.

"No, definitely not crawling with them. There may have been more at one time, but the ones that were there are mostly dead or in hiding. Our people have been hunting in those woods for a month or more. There's not much that would threaten a group like yours if you wanted to visit."

"Oh? Do your people have goods to trade?"

"Yes, we're new here, but more and more, we're learning to use our abilities to craft unique items. We have knowledge from our own world, and as we apply it to concepts using Energy, we’re getting some novel projects in the works. I think it would be worth your while to drive your herd there. My people need the livestock, and I'm sure you'd find yourselves well recompensed."

"This is true! You should have seen the way they drove off an Urghat invasion!" Issa squeezed Morgan's hand and smiled at him out of the corner of her mouth. Murmurs broke out around the fire, and Morgan could see that Issa had hit the right chord - the Cadwalli apparently had little love for Urghat.

"Well, where do you and Issa travel?" Hundla's words were slightly slurred, and she leaned forward precariously in her chair as she looked into Morgan's face.

"We're trying to find an ancient citadel - a place where a swordmaster trained disciples in days long past. Supposedly it was built in a place called the Orangerock Hills." Once again, the gathered Cadwalli murmured and spoke to each other excitedly.

"We know that place! We know that place!" This exclamation came from a large Cadwalli with black-furred legs and a long black beard. Hundla motioned for him to continue speaking while she drained the dregs at the bottom of her mug. "Just a day's ride north of here, you'll come to the Rusty Hills, er, that's our name for them. If you continue about a league to the northwest, you'll come to a huge box canyon. A winding mountain road there, built by ancients, leads to the place you're talking about. You should know, though, that the place is not what you think. There is no master there or disciples - it's a dungeon controlled by the System, and none of our people have been granted entrance."

"Really? Have you tried to enter? What do you mean by dungeon?" Morgan tried to get his questions out, but he couldn't help noticing that Issa's hand was clenching his like a vise.

"Morgan! A dungeon is a place of rich Energy where the System curates encounters and challenges for adventurers that go within. I've always wanted to find one!"

"Ahem, to answer your questions, no, most of our people would not try to go within. Our herd is more interested in crafting and gathering riches than risking our lives in places like that. I don't know anyone who tried to enter, but I've heard tales that they were simply told they didn't meet the requirements."

"Would it be like the Crucible, Issa?"

"Sort of, but not exactly. A dungeon is a static challenge in a specific location. The Crucible is sort of tailored to the individuals within it, and, as you well know, it could be placed anywhere the System has influence." Morgan nodded, thinking. He was about to ask another question when one of the Cadwalli started to sing. It wasn't long before other Cadwalli joined in, and some brought out drums and stringed instruments not unlike little guitars. The music was lively, and Morgan and Issa sat back, looking into the fire or the stars, and just enjoyed it. If he had to describe the music, Morgan would have said it was somewhat like bluegrass; he found himself tapping a foot along with the drums.

"You like this, don't you?" Issa asked, her breath hot and sweet from the wine.

"Yeah, I love it. This is a great life - something I could only dream about before I came here." Issa smiled, and then she started to sing along with the Cadwalli, and while they had pleasant voices, their range was bass to tenor. When Issa's clear soprano rose above their chorus, the Cadwalli grew more enthusiastic, and the music rose to another height of exuberance. Morgan smiled at Issa, moisture filling his eyes, and he leaned back in his chair, enjoying the moment.

All too soon, the festivities wound down, and Morgan and Issa pitched their tent near one of the big Cadwalli wagons, and then they crawled into their bedding, sleeping the deep, peaceful sleep of the truly exhausted. Morgan woke with the first light of dawn, and he found he wasn't the first one up. Many of the Cadwalli were seeing to their daily chores - feeding the animals, performing maintenance on the wagons, mending gear, and another dozen activities that Morgan wouldn't realize needed doing. Issa woke up shortly after he did, and they ate a quick breakfast.

They were packing up their tent when Hundla came over. "Thank you again for saving our flock, Morgan and Issa. We talked about it last night, and we've decided to take you up on your offer and make a trade run to your community."

"That's great news! I'm sure it will be profitable for both our peoples!" Morgan nodded, thinking of the possibilities. They said their farewells, then Morgan and Issa rode off in the direction the Cadwalli indicated would lead them to the Orangerock Hills the fastest. In a way, Morgan was sad to leave the happy Cadwalli. He'd enjoyed their company, and the food and singing had really made him feel at home. "You know, Issa, I had a great time with the Ardeni herders when I came to find you, too. I think I'd fit right in with a group of herders. What a nice life: travel all day, see new sights, take care of your animals, camp under the stars, sing songs, drink and eat good food - what more could you want?"

"Oh, pssh! You'd grow bored within a month. You like to fight too much, and I'm sure you'd miss the idea of adventure and exploration. Driving your herd the same route day in and day out would grow old. You like it because it's new to you, and you don't have to face the prospect of doing it for the rest of your life, you silly man." Issa laughed and slapped Gopp's rump urging him into a lumbering gallop.

"Hey, wait up!" Morgan laughed and clicked his tongue at Munch, letting him know it was okay to catch her. Munch grunted loudly and sprang after his friend. They raced, laughing, through the low gullies and hills for several minutes, and though Morgan kept catching her, Issa had a way of using the terrain to pull ahead of him again and again.

It was just a little after midday when they caught their first glimpse of the Orangerock Hills. They were riding along a gully in a northwesterly direction, and when they climbed up out of it, the distinct orange-colored rocks of a craggy ridgeline came into view. "Well, they certainly are orange."

"Yeah," Issa breathed, nodding.

"Well, first one to the box canyon gets a foot rub tonight." Morgan laughed and kicked Munch into a run.

"Hey!" Issa yelled, urging her roladii to chase him, "I want a backrub! My feet aren't even sore!"