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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] Rear Exterior, Silversmith's Shop -> Neil & Bob's Public House
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] [color=black][i]Morty[/i][/color]
[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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	Victoria's optimistic demeanor continued unabated during their short trek back to the Public House. It was a little disproportionate to the serious nature of their of their tasks, if one looked purely at her overt actions. She buddied up to Kosara after openly and slightly sarcastically disagreeing with her proposed actions just a couple of minutes before, smiled on as Kathryn stuffed the guard into a barrel, and even gave a supportive look in Marita's direction during her times of irritation. She looked downright cheerful, as if anticipating a public performance or personal rendezvous of note. But below the surface, was it really positive anticipation, or the light veneer of mild social deception necessary to further the events unfolding with as little friction as possible? People who truly knew the Bard - people who were not present in Avonshire - might lean to the latter explanation. 

	The open nature of her attitude belied a certain specificity of action. Each footfall was placed to cause as little noise or notice as possible, her cadence in this way occurring with the same frequency of another around her. It was subtle, and one had to look for it. Further, despite her garish dress, she was covered by a charcoal colored cloak (though her hat was marginally distinct, being fair) and kept toward the center of the group when possible. Her party did thing that would surely bring attention to themselves if casual eyes observed. This said, she strove to be the least worthy of remark amongst them. 

	Then she remembered that there was a walking feast centerpiece wrapped in burlap following her which probably didn't help matters any. Scoffing lightly at herself, Victoria quickened pace and contented herself with the outcome of merely getting to where they needed to go without incident, if at all possible. It was best to leave being sneaky for an occasion when her company was capable of, and had desire to, act with subtlety. The irony of this situation as not lost on her, being the flashy, performing type and under more standard circumstances would try to draw attention to herself.

	There was a quiet sigh of relief when she finally entered Bob's place, doubly so when he gave his few patrons the boot and closed up behind them. After the simple, two word inquiry from the proprietor himself and Marita's summary to answer, Victoria spoke up in support of her overall concerns. [color=9932cc]"Oh quite, yes!"[/color] she began, removing her hat and knocking off the vanguard of precipitation from its treated felt brim. It was an excellent hat in very good condition, kept that way by regular care and several applications of [i]Prestidigitation[/i]. Continuing, [color=9932cc]"Blood was spilled in the main thoroughfare and an enemy solidified, of this there is no doubt. Cavendish is more than a mere Constable, we have discovered painfully. Did you know, he used magic to slip away at the end, there?"[/color]

	This reminded her of something she could not address before due to circumstance, and so she took the opportunity to turn her attention temporarily to Baronfjord, before she forgot to bring it up again, [color=9932cc]"That ...[i]thing[/i]... with your arms? I admit fascinating curiosity. Is this a spell? A trait common to your people, perchance? I should be joyed to speak with you about it later."[/color] 

	She flashed a smile and returned to the more pressing topic at hand. [color=9932cc]"I agree with Marita. Some of us are rent about the edges and I have a venomous suspicion that we will want badly for any spellwork which would otherwise be dedicated to knitting flesh. A safe place of rest, if for a short time, would be delightful."[/color] Her cloak was already removed and shaken out, hanging over the back of a nearby chair. It seemed that she was hoping the answer was already decided, and to the positive.