“To the north of the civilized lands, sprawled vast prairies and great plains, where the savages of the tribes roamed atop their great beasts. Fearsome and ugly, with only steel and blood to offer trespassers, the first sighting of these savages were from the records of the third northern expedition, penned by the sole survivor of that debacle.

The savages of the north spoke only in guttural growls and moans, much like beasts and monsters. They could neither be reasoned with, nor were they merciful to any outsider found to roam their lands. To this date, seventeen expeditions to the north had been lost to them, with the survivors of such endeavors countable in the fingers of one hand.” - Tyrian Ragulthius, chronicler and historian for the Barony of Moruil, circa 189 VA.

The first week of Aideen and Celia’s travels in the northern plains was peaceful, as they witnessed the great prairies of the north spread throughout their vision. The various wildlife of the plains were a curiosity, as many of them were either uncommon or - for the ones found deeper in - practically unseen outside those plains, hints that the local ecosystem had mostly been relatively isolated from the neighboring regions.

Aideen had not exactly hid their passage either, as they hoped to attract the attention of the locals before too long. Then again, probably the locals had been wary of the empire to the point that they rarely visited the regions closer to the borders by then, which would have accounted for the lack of encounters they had over that first week of travel.

It was only at the evening of the eighth day, when Aideen and Celia had stopped to rest for the night, that they finally encountered the wandering tribes. They had lit a campfire to cook their food on, which had likely garnered the attention of a passing group of nomadic tribals, who then made their way to their little camp that night.

The nomads had made no attempts to hide their approach either, the dust cloud raised by their mighty steeds visible from the distance. Despite how Celia nervously approached her for guidance, Aideen just told the younger woman to remain calm, no matter what happened, and to leave the talking to her. Just as nonchalantly, she scooped up two bowls of the stew she cooked and offered one to the younger woman.

So it was that when the tribal nomads arrived at their camp, what they saw were not flustered, scared, and nervous intruders, but just a couple of women who were sitting relaxedly by their campfire and enjoying their dinner. That sight alone gave pause to the nomadic orcs, and while they would have normally just slain any intruder to their lands on the spot, their curiosity won out in the end, and the warrior in their lead spoke to the intruders in loud, demanding tones.

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When Aideen heard the orcish woman - apparently the local orcs were little different to the ones she knew of back home, and cared little for gender differences - speak, her eyes lit up. Some of the orcish woman’s words were unintelligible to her, but others were similar enough to the orcish tongue spoken in the southern continent that she believed she could make a reasonable guess as to what the orc meant.

Despite their fearsome appearances, slathered with war paint, with their prominent tusks and hulking musculature prominently displayed, doubled by the great beasts they rode upon, Aideen showed no fear as she stood up, and performed a gesture that to the southern orcs was used to indicate a desire for peace and parley. She had not missed how the expressions of the orcs that surrounded them changed the moment she performed that gesture either.

“We from south, close to the hordes,” said Aideen, as she chose simple words and strung them up the simplest way possible while she took care to pronounce each word as clearly as possible. The language these orcs spoke were similar enough to make the gamble, but not so similar that they were likely to understand everything she said, so she chose to convey her message that way. “Come in peace and friendship, offer medicine and healing, for hearth and home of two moons.”

By then the orcs debated the matter between themselves loudly, as some thought they were dreaming, that one of the odd things spoke their tongue. Others warned of trickery afoot, with great mistrust and wariness, and said that they should just slaughter the intruders on the spot. Yet others were flummoxed, but claimed that one who offered the traditional trade for hearth and home - an archaic orcish term that roughly meant one’s hospitality - should be allowed to make their offer in good conscience as tradition dictated.

Eventually, after a few minutes of rapid discussion that Aideen only half-understood, the female orc that first addressed them leapt down from her mount, a massive black rhinoceros that looked like it could ram through a castle gate. She walked towards Aideen, easily half a head taller and half again as broad, with muscles that looked like she could pick up a man and break them in half like a twig, and spoke. “Where you learn the old speech?”

“Far to the south, in distant lands across the oceans,” replied Aideen calmly, with her arms crossed before her chest and hands visible, another orcish gesture that indicated that one had no intention to fight. “There lived cousins to the hordes, some who lived with the old ways, some who embraced newer ways. From the latter I have learnt the speech.”

“Your offer for Hearth and Home is heard, stranger, now we ask for proof of your offer,” said the orcish woman in the same language as what Aideen had used. If she guessed right, the northern orcs probably spoke the same language in the past, but drifted to their current language, while the former language became known as the old speech. “Dagna! Come forward!”

“Yes, matron,” replied one of the younger orcs as he leapt down from his steed, a tall, hefty horse, that looked more similar to a draft horse than anything. Then again, to accommodate the greater weight of the orcs, their horses likely were bred more for strength and endurance than speed. Aideen hadn’t failed to notice how the younger orc was missing three fingers on his left hand.

“You offer healing and medicine, so, can you?” asked the orcish woman, her tone more of a challenge than a request.

In response, Aideen just met her look in the eye, smiled, and held the young orc’s mangled hand briefly with her own. A moment later, when she withdrew her hand, the young orc raised his once-mangled hand in front of his face and stared, baffled and joyous at the same time as he wiggled the fingers he had lost over a year ago, now regrown as if they were never gone other than the scar that was left behind.