Corey tossed the bag over his shoulders. He waved his hands at the women, taking a huff of the mist clouding the air before pulling his mask over his face and jumping off the boat. NewAge gave him instructions to get to a cave that would lead him past the orcs main guards. Corey needed to find an orc that he could pay to help him.

He snickered a laugh in his head. Paying one would have been a nicer idea than manipulating an orc into thinking the Centrons were about to do something horrible.

That could stir up war. It could destroy two very good societies, that might have been living next to each other in blissful Harmon. Did he care about yany of that? Absolutely not. He wanted one thing, and that was the fruit from the dryad. He had thought about initially asking an orc to do it for him.

Why create a beef between two people when you can just get one person to do the job? The answer to that was simple. Orc aren't precise. If they are able to survive all of the dryad's torrid attack