Fendros looked down the path to the vineyard and sighed. He took a few moments to stare ahead, as if he might come up with an excuse not to go. He conceded with a low voice. "Very well. We might be able to find her."

On they walked. Fendros reluctantly put an arm around Ahnasha's torso as they progressed.

When they reached the gate -- a large wooden arch opening up in between two fences -- Fendros stopped and stood. Ahead of them was a two story Cyrodilic building surrounded by white gravel and grass. It was hardly a mansion, but neither was it a hovel. It looked like it belonged inside the walls of the city. The creeping vines covering one face of it was perhaps the only thing that tied it to the nature surrounding the property. Beyond and to one side were rows of grape vines on long stretches of supporting fence. There was no one in immediate sight and the windows of the house were too dark to look into at this distance.

Fendros lowered his arm from Ahnasha's back and frowned, scanning the surroundings like a startled deer. Ahnasha could tell that his heart was racing and his breathing was shallow, even if he tried to hide any outward signs of fear.

He took one step forward, crunching the gravel with his foot. "Come," he said without looking Ahnasha in the eyes. "Llarasa's room is at the side of the house. Her friends throw stones at her window all the time, we might catch her attention there."

As they walked down the path to the house, trees gave way to more features of the vineyard. Hens wandered the grounds, pecking for food around a nearby coop. A long wooden shed, built sunken partway into the ground, had a set of barrels around it, along with curved trolleys to port them around. Bootprints tracked mud around the place, showing evidence of recent activity. There was the smell of Fendros' family in the air, but they were nowhere to be seen. It was peaceful out here.

[hr]
Janius shrugged. "Sounds fair to me. Let's go."

Cheydinhal was not the largest of Tamriel's cities, but even then they made great time with Lorag navigating. Janius and the rest stepped into the blacksmith to trade. Before a few minutes were up, Janius stepped out with the children and the knives to be sharpened.

He handed the bag to Lorag with a smile. "The smith told me we could use the grindstone as long as an Orc was doing the work." He pat Lorag on the upper arm. "I'll watch the kids out here. The others are still haggling, they'll be out in a bit."

Without much else for it, Janius took Rhazii and Newt over to watch a street performer. A small crowd was forming, but Lorag could still watch from the grindstone. It wouldn't take long to sharpen and hone everything up properly.

After about a minute, Rhazii and Newt were seated on the ground, captivated by the contortion act that the performer was showing off. At that moment, a small Orc girl in a dress came by to sit next to them and begin talking. She looked around Newt's age, perhaps a little older.

It was an innocent enough interaction. The boys loved to socialise in cities after long stretches with only each other to play with. They were about to stand up to run around when a familiar voice rang out from nearby.

"Narsi! Come on, it's time to go home!" The voice was unmistakeable, though her attire was not. In a long dress of blue, white, and leather, with a basket of vegetables in one hand, was none other than Harriet. The previous great warrior and lieutenant of the Bruma clan stood in the middle of the street with a stern look.

The Orc girl spun and ran, half turning to wave at Rhazii and Newt with a parting, toothy grin. She bounced along on her little feet until she reached Harriet, holding her by the hand and following her as they began to walk down the street. Harriet's eye subtly glanced to catch Lorag's. There was a hint of haste in her steps after she recognised him, but all she did in response was pull up her cowl against the light breeze and keep going.