As the group got closer- movement caught their eyes. Someone ran into the longest building, while others watched them as they approached- understandably wary. Perplexion crossed their faces- none of them held any of the trademarks of the black-cloaks in town. Stranger still, there were four from the Peachtree with them- all of them led by a yallarie. What would a yallarie not of their own be doing here, of all places? Confusing all around. Eventually, a young woman stepped out of the long building. She eyed the group, who stopped at a respectful distance away. "We've not seen you here before."
"We only got to the area last night." It was decided earlier Violet would lead the way- being the most able to relate and all, for a variety of reasons.
"And what brings you this way?" She looked at the group, skeptical.
"We've come to speak to whoever is leading. It concerns everything going on in Highdell- the Iron Ring, these hin we're guarding seeking amnesty... and how we can help."
"I will speak to him. Wait here." Once more she slipped back inside, while the ten waiting looked around. Curious eyes met them from all directions- what strange things came, when things looked darkest... Soon after, the woman came back outside.
"Zenric says you may enter. Long as your weapons remain out here." Most of them began removing their weapons, but Violet hesitated. In the end, all but her sling came off, added to the cache. Nodding in satisfaction, all of them were checked over- and let in. Dominating the space, a beautifully polished apple wood table and chairs. On the table, casks of cider and juice, with a lovely array of apple-based treats. All of it made the adventurers' mouths water- it was so tempting by sight and scent alone. Sitting at the head of the table, a middle-aged and slightly portly Hin man with shining hazel eyes and paler skin than the others. Waving a hand, he smiled.
"Good morrow, friends- please, have a seat. Help yourselves to the contents of the table..." Zenric's voice faded off as he spotted Violet. Something in the air shifted- the aura more serious now. As everyone sat down and helped themselves, Zenric's eyes never left Violet. "We don't see many of your kind, yallarie. Especially not ones as distinct as you again."
"What exactly is a yallarie?" Jordan's sudden inquiry caught Zenric off guard. Thankfully, the second half of that statement slipped by everyone.
Zenric raised an eyebrow. As if to silently say, 'You mean, you don't know? She didn't tell you?'
"I like learning- and this is a new word to me." Violet sighed, fixing him a withering glare.
"Jordan... We have more pressing matters at hand. I'll explain after." Turning back to Zenric, she shifted topic back. "We've come, escorting these folks through the tunnels to amnesty here."
"From the black-cloaks in Dardun, you mean?"
"Yes. We've already taken two of their patrols out- one in the tunnels on the way. The hope is to help blend two clans into one... And before you say anything-" Violet could see Zenric going to protest "One, the Peachtrees- along with a few of your own- were wiped out because of the Iron Ring. We saw their fate on the way in. And two... We brought Granny Peachtree here."
Zenric's eyes widened. As soon as the word 'Granny' was mentioned, the four surviving Peachtree members were moved to the head of the table, Zenric sliding out of the way. Immediately the Hin inside fluttered about, things in motion. The Granny smiled at Violet, amused. While that went on, Zenric addressed the other six. "Sincerest apologies about that. Anyways, is- is there anything else we can do?"
"Do you happen to know anything about what's going on here? Have you heard anything?"
"I know a bit... This has been going on for some time. And the slaver's tithe will be leaving town this afternoon. It'll be taking the southwest road to Highdell."
"And who's the tithe for?"
Zendric hesitated. When he finally spoke, his voice was a whisper. "...Nazin Redthorne and Leviticus Emberstride." Most of the group's faces furrowed in perplexion; Violet paled, yet stiffened in ice-cold fury. That confirmed Zendric's suspicion- she was who he was thinking of. And he knew exactly why they were here. If he didn't hold such a hatred for the black-cloaks, he'd almost feel sorry for them. If they had any inkling of the yallarie coming for them, they'd be saying prayers to whatever black gods would dare listen.
Clearing his throat, he moved on. "If you take the tunnels back... Where did you come in from?"
"A distillery, right near the east edge of town. It was the closest thing we could take amnesty in, after sneaking in failed and we fought off a patrol."
"Falkin and Shaelie's then. When you get close to there, take the left path instead of the right. Walk along until you find the very end. It'll take you into a small grove of trees- that should make a decent place to wait."
"That's rather helpful to know. Thank you."
Zendric nodded. "What news have you from Albridge?"
"We have... Tor's Hold, the… Reedfoots, Violet said?.. and Albridge helping. Once we get back, Albridge will be... The main fight. In... a day or two."
"Then we'll send whoever we can spare there, later today. Have you visited the elves in Highdell Forest yet?"
"How would we get there?" Sera's scrawling on their chalkboard startled Zendric.
"Ah. Right. You'd have to pass through Highdell to do it."
"That option won't work- not only do we not have time, we don't wish to tip the forces in Highdell off. We may have to do this without them. Unfortunate as it is... If we want to catch that caravan, we should go."
"Sera's right- we do need to move, if we want to catch that caravan."
"Believe me... We do." The group got up, thanking Zendric for their time, and stretched out. Moving toward the door, they went back to gear up and head out.
As Violet approached to offer thanks and farewells, the Granny smiled at her. "Bring that blue-haired young man over with you."
"As you wish." Jordan let out a surprised noise, a shout of protest as Violet suddenly pulled him over. All she said was "When someone like Granny wants you do something, you do it. Deal with it."
Granny studied him, and nodded. "You're the one who makes things. Perfect." She took one of Violet’s hand into both of hers. "You and your friends have done much for us- not only did you save the few of us left, you've made two clans into one. And are fighting the good fight, on behalf of us all. I want you both to take these." At this, she let go- and reached into her pockets. Into both Violet and Jordan's hands were placed sling bullets- dark brown ones, like the pits of peaches- and smelling faintly of such. "These are a family secret- when they make contact, they split open and release gas. Come closer, you two- I've something else." Leaning in closer still, Granny whispered to them another gift- the recipe for making their own.
"You honour us, Granny Peachtree. Thank you so very much." Knowledge made Jordan smile, a shimmer of happiness in his eyes. Granny patted his hand, and waved him away.
Turning to Violet, she held her hand again. "It is good to see you again, dearie. Looking much healthier than last time. Give them hell, won't you?"
"...I will. Thank you, Granny." Re-joining the group eagerly listening to Jordan sharing his excitement, Violet could only shake her head. All six of them stepped into the sun once more, gathering their weapons and ammunition before walking back toward the trapdoor. These next few days would be chaotic yet- but they felt a victory gained here today. Privately, each of them hoped it would carry forward- but only time would tell.