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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] F13 -> [b]F12[/b]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] [i]Casting Spell[/i] (Shatter)
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] [i]Bardic Inspiration[/i] (Marita)
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A 
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/Fw0Ldxw/Victoria-Alt-ss.png[/img][/right]
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	Victoria took some stock of her surroundings, as best she could from her spot crouching behind a barrel. The cover was extremely useful and gave her an okay vantage point for her odds and ends of Necromancy, but it held another interesting quality - it allowed her almost unrestricted views of her teammates at first. Form there, the Bard could hear their efforts to hack apart the wooden enclosures which held the captured townsfolk. This was punctuated every so often by the discharge of crackling black energy with which Cavendish peppered those he could see. Worse than this, he seemed to have approximated her trick of commanding a swarm of rats from the greater massing of the furry beasties to roll over Kathryn, nipping at her as she still tried to free the prisoners. To his credit, Cavendish's rats were still living. That wasn't a trick that she could accomplish. 

	But despite this relentless attack, the only one continuing to combat the Constable was Marita. Even Victoria herself was merely attempting to distract and provide him nagging difficulty. Then it dawned on the Bard - Only one person was fighting back. [i]One.[/i] There was no point in playing a support role with her limited (and fast dwindling) arcane resources if there was no one to support, except for the [i]other[/i] party member who was suited to a supporting role, herself.  

	Thinking back, Victoria's mind flashed to the smug and condescending Shadow Monk who berated her for getting into the thick of things in the Goblin fight a couple of days prior. There was a reason that she did what she did, and that reason was showing itself again. She gave a quick and quiet supplication to the gods with which she was most familiar; Wee Jas, Jergal, Libitina, the Elven god Naralis Alanor, and even stern, judgemental Kelemvor (though they had some fundamental differences in philosophy). The Lady of Ravens was given a nod in her thoughts as well. [color=9932cc]"I've often wondered which of you would claim me,"[/color] she whispered. [color=9932cc]"Whomever does, please take me quickly and let me die well."[/color] 

	Victoria took up her sword and rose, stepping to her left to fully interpose the two upright barrels between herself and Cavendish. The presence of her preferred magic had already began to show on her face; the grey-black color of ancient bone pooling around her crystal blue eyes and spilling downward, as if darkened tears of one in profound mourning. She had accomplished this with cosmetics the night before. It came naturally now as her soul reached into the Weave to pluck and rearrange the flow of magic to assist her needs, and she dipped into the teachings of the Grey Requiem. What power Victoria had left, she intended to hurl at the wicked Constable. 

	Perhaps it was her sense of Neutral detachment that brought her to this decision. She didn't have any hard feelings for the prisoners, and in fact had bonded with little Lizbeth enough that she would do whatever she might to bring her aunt back to her. But the prisoners were absolutely not her priority right then. They could be saved at leisure (for the most part) after the factor which threatened them was eliminated. If the others were unwilling to to this, then the Bard would stand with Marita and pour her outrage upon Cavendish until nothing remained. 

	The first action the took was to address the Cleric. her voice cut across the battlefield with presence and clarity, demonstrating the force of her personality. [color=9932cc]"This [i]thing[/i] is not a Constable any longer, Marita. It isn't even a Human anymore. Cavendish surrendered his humanity for power and contradicted every promise he made to this town to aid and defend its people. He betrayed the Law he swore to uphold and [i]you[/i] are in exactly the right place, at the right time, to make him answer for this betrayal. Drop the hammer on this monster. [i]We can beat him.[/i] I will help you."[/color]

	Her second action was to sing. Vocalizations of scales at first, quickly becoming a more complex tune as it penetrated the ears of everyone around her. It seemed to echo for a moment, coming from the air around Cavendish, yet the echo sustained and grew louder as Victoria's voice became quiet. All at once, a splintering, cracking sound punctured the air, like a great glass bowl shattering upon a stone floor. Splits in Cavendish's skin opened in jagged formations and several (but not all) of the undead swarm of rats fell from him; a tradeoff made for the sake of hurting him. 

	Victoria was now exposed, and as such was a viable target who had just damaged this vindictive, magic-weilding Wererat. But even in this potentially foolish move, there was a glimmer of hope. For the first time in this fight, Cavendish stooped and took heaving breaths. He was hurt, and was finally showing clear signs of it. 
 
 
 
[color=red][b]Marita now has Bardic Inspiration (1d6).[/b][/color]

[@Remipa Awesome] [color=598527][b]Kathryn[/b][/color] is free to do stuff.