[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/vXD6Q0t/Update-Text.png[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/VpHzK5s/Avonshire-Township.jpg[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [u]Weather[/u]: It is cold. Not freezing yet, but cold in an unseasonable fashion, as was the previous evening. The fog had a constant presence, thick and lingering, but at least it wasn't raining. Wind is low, calm even after the earlier downpour. [u]Time[/u]: Dusk is upon you. Cue the music. [u]Ambience[/u]: A full and heavy moon hangs in a sky that has now officially darkened. It is the not only the brightest, but the only light that one can readily make out thanks to the oppressive, ground-based cloud cover. The tension in the air around one thickens in ways that even the dense fog cannot fathom. The sounds of water dripping from places on high to the ground were no longer present, but if one were to listen carefully one might catch the faint sounds of water being whisked away by the thoroughfare's drainage system. If one were to listen even more carefully, they might just pick out the random sloshings of rodents within what standing puddles remained, desire to avoid the frigid water making their movements more frantic. These pieces of proximal ambience aside, a sense of painful stillness permeated the Township. Considering the bustle of the festival from just a matter or hours ago, one knows full well that the settlement is populated. Everyone seemed to be instinctively hiding from the unknown, or at least uncertain danger among them. The scent of porkfat and tangy wood was still carried upon the air. [center][h2][color=darkgray]*******[/color][/h2][/center] [center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [center][img]https://i.ibb.co/K2TYjH1/Bed-Breakfast.jpg[/img][/center] [center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] The steps in the direction of the Bed & Breakfast, be they taken lightly and with care or the stomping recklessness of a drunken neckbeard, were fully unimpeded. No force moved to stop, nor even delay, as the group moved steadily along the road; a very short walk from the Silversmith's place to where their first allies in Avonshire was quartered for the Harvestide Festival, within a stone's throw of the centermost river bridge if the fog would have allowed. Visions of massing rodents remained unseen, but not fully undetected. Their original gambit of staying just out of sight at all times (unless set upon by a flung source of light) was reestablished, but one could still hear the same shuffling noises if they knew what to listen for. Coming up to the door of the B&B, the sound of rats lessens into the distance. A truer quiet settles upon the area, as it did when the party neared Jacques Mallard's place of business. The building itself boasted a green roof and door, with a sign indicating its purpose. A detachable addition also proclaimed a lack of vacancy. Yes, this was the place. Not much of a surprise, but there was a lack of bright light coming from within. Windows were closed and curtains drawn, shutters latched as applicable. From this close proximity, one could see a small source of light from behind a curtain, possibly a lit candle or something similar, judging only by its illumination through a thicker cloth. At that moment, a scream cut through the night air. It was feminine and blood-curdling, ending with a choked, reflexive sob. While difficult to say precisely from where it issued, one can tell that it likely came from farther up the roadway, possibly even on the other side of the river. In the stunned seconds after the scream, the door to the Bed & Breakfast creaked open. [color=darkgray][i]"Can you help me, please?"[/i][/color] came a voice, its source still obscured by the fine, wooden portal, though light did spill from behind it. The voice was familiar to most of the party, if colored, likely by emotion. It was [url=https://i.ibb.co/r6gpLzw/Lizbeth-L-Rose.jpg]Lizbeth L'Rose[/url], though her face was only partially visible from behind the door. [color=darkgray][i]"Aunt Cecily isn't here. She left a note, but I think something is wrong."[/i][/color] Her voice trembled as she spoke. Another scream split the foggy night, this one joined quickly by a second - both from a different direction than the initial outburst. These two sounded like they came from somewhere north of their location. The cracked door of the Bed & Breakfast pulled shut for a moment, before opening just a little bit once more. [color=darkgray][i]"Won't you please help?"[/i][/color]