They appeared at the entrance to the central square while everyone was still arguing about what action to take. Afterwards Torfindel was never sure when he himself became aware of the threat, or even who noticed it first. Suddenly almost simultaneously they all fell quiet. Someone next to Torfindel, he thought it was Ieannia, drew in their breath sharply. It dawned on the group that all the exits were blocked by groups of rapidly approaching black-clad Hobbits. Within seconds a loose ring of Hobbits, about a dozen of whom carried loaded crossbows, surrounded them.
As the party huddled together Zorro hefted his axe thoughtfully and spat in disbelief.
"This ain't how it's serposed to end," he muttered "stabbed to death by three dozen midgets armed with knitting needles. Well, I won't say it were nice to have known yer all because it would be a total lie, and yeah, that's graditude for yer. Lump it."
He spat again, then motioned to Urg.
"Yer take the red headed one on the left, I'll do the dark one with the curved sword," he instructed.
Urg nodded, and began limbering up for the coming battle, swinging his huge axe in sweeping practice curves. Even Torfindel tremblingly drew his sword. But as the adventurers prepared to go down fighting, one of the hobbits shouted something unintelligible and stepped forward, holding her sword hilt first to show she wished to talk. She was followed by another hobbit who watched her back and covered the party unwaveringly with a huge embossed crossbow.
Torfindel narrowed his eyes as he recognised the first figure. The woman stepping towards him was Anikka Sudariana, or 'Battle-Annie' as she was known in sundry bars scattered around town. Her Clan name was Minty Ice-cream, with which she had much in common, being both cold and bitter. She was Pretzel's chief lieutenant, and in line to succeed him here when he returned to Blairon. Unusually for a hobbit she was stick thin, with two livid parallel scars lashed across her forehead. She was dressed in ordinary green linen not her armour- whether a good or bad sign Torfindel couldn't tell.
The male behind her was known as the Terrier, because of the twin metal teeth he'd had fixed into his mouth. During hand to hand the Terrier always tried to tear his opponent's throat or groin out with those, and boasted of having single-handedly killed an ogre in just such an unpleasant manner. He was the chief enforcer of Pretzel, and a broad plump hobbit with a paunch from too much rootbeer. Like his companions he was dressed in black trousers and tunic, leather kneeboots and had a red shash tied around his waist with a shortsword hanging from it. He leered silently at the group over his crossbow. From here you could just see the pale slash of a ragged scar across his throat that had cost him his voice and his attacker, a rival from another clan, his life.
Minty Ice-cream halted in front of them and bowed low, ironically polite.
"Torfindel," she purred "So nice to see you at last. We've been looking for you all day, but you seemed to have vanished. In fact you're nearly late for your appointment with Mr Pretzel."
Torfindel shook his head. "Fine," he said in a defeated tone. "Just coming. I'll see you guys later yeah?"
Minty Ice-cream smiled with wicked relish. "Oh, but Mr Pretzel is so looking forward to meeting all your lovely friends. He's heard so much about them, and frankly, they might make those boring business meetings a more social occasion don't you think?"
"You mean we have a choice between bein' slowly tortured to death while yer boss watches, then shot in the head and slung in a ditch or goin' down now and taking some of you Munchkins with us?" mused Zorro out loud, before Torfindel's hand clamped over his mouth.
Minty Ice-cream's head rotated slowly towards the Dwarf. Her eyes blazed momentarily, but she continued in a honeyed voice, directing her words to Torfindel, though she now favoured the Dwarf with her malevolent gaze.
"On the contrary, Mr Pretzel is a fair hobbit. He knows that stashes of highly expensive merchandise get mislaid all the time. In fact he sent me here to tell you that he's prepared to give you all a second chance..."
The whole party perked up except Torfindel, who guessed something of what was coming.
"If firstly you do one small job for him. Or we can shoot you all down right here."
"We'll come!" the group said unanimously.
Minty Ice-cream turned to walk back to the Terrier with feigned carelessness, taking a parting shot as she left.
"You can even bring your monkey here," she called back, gesturing at Zorro.
The Dwarf stiffened at the insult. His bloodshot eyes bulged, and spittle flecked his beard. With a thin scream of rage he started towards the Hobbit, axe arching towards her retreating back, heedless of the crossbows suddenly levelled in his direction. Urg and Ieannia looked at each other in unspoken agreement. Moving with a swiftness and unity that belied their previous bickering they each reached down and seized one arm of the beserker as he roared past them, hefting him off the ground. The Dwarf's legs churned through empty air as he strained to reach after the Hobbit, shrieking imprecations about her ancestry, mental state and choice of bed partner.
Ignoring him now, the ring of Hobbits became two lines, one on either side of the party, watching them as they were escorted across the square to an anonymous whitewashed building. They all passed through its oak gate which slammed ominously shut after their passing. Silence reigned again over the deserted square.