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	Somewhere in the distance, a cry is cut short. The sound itself seems to punctuate the knowledge that a subtle and monstrous force is still using the citizens of Avonshire for its own nefarious ends. But inside of the Bed & Breakfast, the scene was emotional, if subdued. Lizbeth looked wide-eyed at Baronfjord while he attempted to calm her. And to his credit, what he said might very well have been reassuring. All she did was nod her head at the question of whether or not she was scared. The issuance of raw information was more forthcoming, as she did elaborate more on questions asked directly of her. [color=darkgray][i]"They're not my guests,"[/i][/color] she said simply, in response to the idea that they were, and that they might need to be checked on. [color=darkgray][i]"And that isn't Aunt CeeCee's writing."[/i][/color] A sort of numbness seemed to have taken hold of her. Shock, possibly, as trauma had been in the events of the past couple of days. Tears still stained her cheeks, even if her expression became less animated. 

	Her reaction to Marita was a little more interactive. Little feet shuffled closer to the Cleric as she reached out for the dagger. Little hands clasped around the hilt. In her grasp, the weapon looked more like a shortsword. Nevertheless, she accepted it with a quiet, [color=darkgray][i]"Okay. Thank you."[/i][/color] A small amount of hesitance came over her as the moved to accept the amulet. She said nothing, instead nodding her head slowly. 

	Kathryn's words of encouragement did not seem to have the desired effect. While she understood that the very tall woman was trying to relate to her, it did not ping the appropriate pinging place for her. Particularly the last part about [i]being back soon[/i] seemed to disturb her. It was very similar to what was penned upon the letter left in the place of her missing aunt. Lizbeth did move toward the stairs, which would take her up to the room rented for the length of Harvestide. She stopped in front of Victoria, staring from her to Morty, and back again. [color=darkgray][i]"You can magic things. I've seen you. Can you help us again, please?"[/i][/color] The last sentence looked like it was addressed to the whole group as opposed to just the Half-Elf. 

	A tense stillness draped over the room for a long second as the pleading voice of the little girl holding a silver etched blade requested assistance of the brave adventurers. Unfortunately, before a proper answer might be given, a booming, hollow, striking sound reported sharply from the exterior wall next to the front door, seemingly louder within the open space of the first floor's main room.