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[h2][color=darkorchid][i][b]Victoria Belmont[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=9932cc]Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3[/color][/b][/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 23 / 23	[color=9932cc][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 15	[color=9932cc][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Avonshire Township  
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/tpv4vyV/VicSS.png[/img][/right]
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	It seemed that no one was jumping to take care of the canvas-wrapped bones of sitting in the back of the wine wagon. Victoria assumed that this might have been a priority, but this was not so. Then she gave it a further consideration and realized that she was the one who tended to the remains in the first place and it was likely assumed to be her sole responsibility. Hells, it might actually [i]be[/i] her responsibility, given that she was the only one in the party with any actual experience in funerary practices. Okay, and Necromancy. There was some overlap in practical skills there, like a macabre Venn diagram. So, with a practiced smile and a touch more pep than she truly felt in that second, Victoria sauntered to the back of the wagon to procure the canvas bundle which held (most of) the bones of little Lizbeth's grandfather. There was a decided amount of unvocalized surprise when she saw that Hugh had beaten her to it. Victoria cocked her head to the side with a smirk and made her way to the back of the wagon anyway, as there was another piece of business which required her attention anyway. 

	For the sake of propriety, or some other social concept which shared similar qualities to it, Victoria lay a hand on the now unmoving, burlap-wrapped porcine beast back there as well, cheerfully declaring, [color=9932cc]"Rise and shine, Morty! Our day has yet to be over!"[/color] The mindlessly loyal pig clumsily shuffled to its hooves and followed immediately behind the orchid garbed bard. There were some casual looks of confusion from passersby. So far, no torches or pitchforks. Or any indication that they held anything but guarded curiosity for the seemingly mummified, painfully gaunt creature. 

	Discussion concerning the people and/or establishment to be shorted thanks to the Goblin's thirsts piqued Victoria's interest for about seven minutes, after which time she mentally checked out and began to take in the scenery around them. It wasn't too amazingly cold right then, and people were all milling about in what appeared to be good spirits. Most of them, anyway. She enjoyed trying to figure things out about people in new places, even if she wasn't particularly good at it. Victoria could at least match the energy of the people around her, and for a lot of these people, it was the busied hum of a population just prior to a celebration. This aside, not knowing these clients of the L'Rose family and having no stake in the actual delivery (aside from ingratiating the party to Cecily and Lizbeth), she abstained from the vote.  

	Victoria took great pleasure in the impromptu tour of the Township which came along with the seemingly erratic delivery route, dropping off the huge casks of wine at their respective locations. While not extremely efficient a path, it did serve to get a fairly decent lay of the land. Not the details, mind you, but a good, rough idea of where things might be located. 

	In fact, the only thing that put a strained mark on their delivery service was the inexpert driving of Kosara, which Victoria really could not blame her for. Driving in a populated area with close conditions was more difficult than following someone on an open road, doubly so when one had to deal with a lot of other people and animals on the streets. Victoria gave support and encouragement where she felt it was necessary, and in fact it looked like the cheery Tiefling was getting better at it. Except for one [i]tiiiiny[/i] issue with the mule reacting a little too positively with a cabbage seller. She moved to hop into the wagon and take over, lest more damage was done, but Kosara did well enough to get things back on track. Victoria added her own voice of apology to the man whose vegetables were purloined by the beast of burden, pressing a couple of coins into his hand, [color=9932cc]"For your trouble, of course."[/color] 

	It took Victoria a moment to realize that the novice teamster made a threat against the mule to turn it into something very much what she had done to Morty, her constant, woodsmoked companion and bodyguard. She raised her finger as if to say something, mouth already open with tips and pointers if she indeed had the idea to make her own version of Morty, but held herself back. This was not the time nor the place to divulge secrets of the hedge Necromancer's trade.

	As much fun as this was, it did take Victoria a little bit to fully grasp the unspoken words that might have described what a "Honey Barn" was and why a lady named "Madame Marcie" would have one. Never to be called naive about such things, what threw her off was the use of the word [i]Barn[/i] in all of this. Thematic, somehow? Or were these people more stereotypically rural than one might have been led to believe? Either way, this had been an interesting experience so far, and she was going to find out. Perhaps a little music along the way would add to the occasion.