A family whose parentals were once foster children of Fosterhaus visit to offer their assistance. They get to introduce their own children to Wraithvine and hir friends as well, who was there helping with some repairs after a storm had rolled through. -- Anon Guest
[AN: Possible reference to @internutter/challenge-03800-j147-wanted-dearly-elsewhere ]
Isolated villages in the middle of nowhere are places to come from. Adventurers come from tiny flyspecks on the map with names like Bendihollow, North Haverbrook, and, especially, Gleaminvale. The ones from Gleaminvale often have a surprising grasp of the Draconic languages[1].
They also don't understand the concept of Unwelcome People until it's patiently explained to them. Mostly because everyone in Gleaminvale is Unwelcome in one way or another.
They might understand at a tangential level, but they never participate. Heroes like that leave Gleaminvale. They rarely return.
The vehicle that entered via Traderoad was slightly fancier than the average mail coach. You could tell it was owned by Adventurers, as it was made to withstand things many did not consider. Such as armour plating and protective wards for the horses.
There was nothing to prompt it turning off the maintained paving stones of Traderoad, and onto the slightly more dubious gravel and packed dirt track that lead to Gleaminvale.
It was almost like the lead in to a joke. A Hellkin, a half-elf, and two kids walk into an Inn...
But it wasn't a joke. It was a homecoming.
"Wow the ceilings are so high," chirped one child.
"We do have half-Ogres and Wudzgaad coming here," said a parental, readying their pouch to pay. "Just think about when we visited Aunty Grezeña's and everybody got sore heads."
"I didn't!" bragged the smallest.
"True, but you couldn't jump," the father of the family scooped up his little devil and said, "One room for four, and a dinner, and this..." he put down an entire pouch that sounded like rocks, "is for grandma."
The inkeeper peeked. "Oooh. Those are the impressive gemstones. Tambaga's going to put most of it towards care and feeding."
"Yes, but there's some diamonds in there she might appreciate for a new scrubber[2]."
"You and the twenty others who come back with treasure always look after grandma," said the inkeep.
"Do we really have a Dragon for a great-grandma?" said the oldest.
To the Hellkin child, the innkeep said, "We call her 'grandma' as a sign of respect. She's mothered and grandmothered so many here that the exact relationship is... er..."
"Up to debate?" suggested the father.
"Exactly. It's easier to call Tambaga the Gleaming 'grandma' no matter how you relate to her."
"And you two little scamps get to meet her tomorrow."
"Yaaaaaayyy!"
"Do we get presents?"
"Do we get candy?"
"Rennie, rennie, rennie... what's grandma like? Is she nice? Does she smell?"
"Dinner first, then answers," cooed the Hellkin, herding their children to a table. "Remember I get travel sick in coaches, and now I am very, very hungry."
There's no telling where Adventurers would settle, or whom they might settle with, but those from Gleaminvale never forget the kindness that started their lives. They often go out of their way to repay it.
[1] The older and more wide-spread a language is, the more local dialects it tends to generate. For example: English.
[2] Dragonhide is really, really tough.
[Photo by David Clode on Unsplash]
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