“There were various circumstances in which one might suddenly find themselves deprived of a place to call home. Crimes that became notorious, feats shameful enough to cause exile, or even just supporting the wrong person at the wrong time, even.

The way people in other lands react to those they knew were exiled from their birthplace varies greatly. Many were generally accepting if the exile was not due to nefarious things the person had done, yet there would always be those who shun them simply because they had been exiled and for no other reason.

If anything, people from different races might be more accepting, especially if it was their own nation, since they would likely just view you as another of whatever race you were from rather than care too much about your exiled status.” - Moussa Ilagebwo, Sociologist from the Kingdom of Posuin, circa 318 VA.

“I don’t think there’s anything for me to go back to,” said Andromarche with a downright depressed tone of voice as she looked down. The woman stayed that way for a moment, before she raised her head and looked towards Aideen before she continued. “As it is, the County’s going to be in a furor over this debacle. The Count and all of his knights dying? That’s gonna cause a ruckus. At least those who died would still be thought of as dying in service to their liege, though…”

“And if you return, that wouldn’t be the case, huh?” asked Aideen although she already had an inkling of what the other woman had meant. The culture in the Empire demanded close to absolute obedience between a sworn knight and their liege lords, and it was expected for a knight to die in the defense of their liege rather than survive the experience.

“If I return, it wouldn’t just be me. My whole family line would be viewed as pariahs,” answered Andromarche in acknowledgement. “Right now, our sins in the eyes of most would simply be failing to defend our lord, but since we died trying, nobody would consider it much of a shame. If I returned alive though, I’d be considered a deserter and oathbreaker, or worse, since I lived where my liege lord had died.”

“I know we didn’t serve the best examples of nobility there is,” she continued when she noticed Aideen about to say a word. Despite being a knight, raised from childhood and trained all her life for the purpose of becoming a knight, and raised on tales of such, Andromarche was a pragmatic woman who saw things as they were. “In fact, some of them are downright assholes, including my own liege, not that I’d ever say that if he was still alive, but things were how they were, and I had sworn the oaths.”

“I take it then that you’re talking so freely because you’re free from those oaths now that your liege lord is dead?” Aideen asked. She was not that familiar with knightly oaths from the Empire, but what she knew indicated that they seemed to be sworn to the person, and when there was a change of leadership in the family like a succession, the new lord would then receive new oaths from the knights.

“Sort of. Normally we’d pledge our oaths to his successor, but I don’t think any would have accepted the oath of knights they viewed as failing their duties like me, or any of the others that made it alive,” explained the female knight with a disappointed look. “It’s not even our fault! When your liege and several other nobles decided to do something, we followed our orders. When they made strategic blunders and got their fat asses killed, we got the blame. Funny how that works.”

“You win, they get most of the credit, you lose, the blame mostly goes to you, huh? Sounds like typical noble behavior right there,” said Aideen with not a little mockery in her tone. She had seen that sort of blame shifting and credit hogging aplenty in her long life, both in Ur-Teros and in Alcidea, and was all too familiar with it.

“You said it, miss Aideen. People often looked up to us knights and thought that we lived a life to be envied, but with the wrong sort of lord, I cannot say I’ve been proud of what I’ve been made to do,” said Andromarche with a sigh. “Honestly, while it was like a dream come true on the day I was knighted, now that it’s been a decade living as one, being a knight has lost most of its charms for me.”

“Well… if you can’t return home to begin with, there are always other options,” said Aideen to console the other woman. “Have you ever thought about what you’re going to do next, now that you’re freed of your oath and obligations?”

“Do I have a choice? Wait… How do you even know that the greenskins would leave me be?” asked Andromarche as she finally realized that Aideen was speaking with far too much knowledge about the orcs in general and seemed to already know everything that mattered. She had been too occupied worrying about her present situation before and had not paid much attention to that.

“I did say that I’ve been living here for years. As an honored guest of sorts, I guess? I’ve learned more than a few things about how they live, including their language,” said Aideen in reply as she gave Andromarche an understanding nod. Not everyone could take their life getting turned over that calmly. “I can teach you as well, if you’re planning on staying.”

“Would they even let me stay? I know I hurt some of them, I think I killed one in the fight, even,” asked Andromarche with obvious doubt.

“Oh yea, you killed Buraq of the Bloodfangs. That really impressed them, y’know? I think Orica’s gonna insist you stay with her clan when you’re better just from that,” said Aideen all too nonchalantly. “The orc clans aren’t humans. They don’t think the same way. To them, dying in the hands of a better warrior in combat is a great honor, and you’ve given Buraq just that. I bet some of the other clans would be brawling for the honor of taking you in if Orica hadn’t already called dibs on you.”