Storming inside the room was a thing of adventure and as soon as Kosara took her first steps into the mystery study room that apparently nobody bar the old mister L’Rose was ever in. Once on the inside there was a first moment of lull in the activity as Kosara halted, listening and waiting for anything to happen. Hey she expected various traps to trigger possibly! Who didn’t trap their secret hideouts! Well this wasn’t exactly ‘secret’ hideout… Hmm maybe she was expecting a bit too much on that front, but it still was possibly a major part of whatever mystery was going on in these lands as of late. If that letter they had received was anything to go by, maybe there was a clue around this chamber.

Now onto the topic of the room proper, it was a curious thing. Kosara noted the equal parts office, the various alcohol stocked up and the seemingly old historic objects placed around. Maybe a possible collection to pass the time. People were known to collect the most various of things that struck their fancy after all. For all she knew, there was somebody somewhere who was collecting weird books about rolling dice… or varied chess pieces! Who could really say what one might decide is worth collecting. Kosara herself didn’t collecting trinkets in, but she did like to write interesting things she would hear in her journals.

Of varied things that were scattered in the room, beckoning for one’s curiosity to compel them to explore, there were a few of greater note that drew Kosara’s attention. First was the big sarcophagus looking box that was giving off extremely suspicious vibes. After that was the black journal with the fine dirt and the trinket that was very likely of ritualistic nature there was even a magic wand looking object next to the earth circle. Finally there was a box next to the desk… So many things to explore.” Decisions, decisions…” Kosara mumbled to herself, eyes darting all around trying to decide where to go in the end in her explorations.

Then out of nowhere she had an idea on what to do first. She reached into her clothing pulling an amulet. An amulet she had nicked of Cavefish...ehhh… whatever his name was! Moving through the motions of it quickly until an adorable little rat was on her hand.” Hey Chauncy!” She greeted the little thing with a huge grin. Nonsense with humanoids rats aside, he was quite adorable and as something summoned via a figurine of wonderous power, he was very intelligent!” Could you keep an eye on the door for me and warn us if somebody’s coming?” She asked him.

In the meantime V had moved ahead to check out the journal. So in the end Kosara decided to poke around the desk. The sarcophagus thing she decided for later just in case it turned out to be an undead monstrocity of some kind. You never knew with how the locale was as of late. The tiefling had barely reached said desk when V stated her observations.” Really? Fascinating!” Kosara marveled at the unorthodox approach to jury-rigging a magical ritual. Before her attention returned to the desk, eyes occasionally moving to the box next to it, first thing’s first though! Investigate the desk and the varied documents upon it! At least something had to be of some note.

Things alas, could be going better. On the plus side, Kathryn was getting a ton of great wine recommendations! "Thank you so much master Rens, you do know how to treat a woman." Kathryn said warmly as she sampled each of the three wines. Two of the three she was pleasantly surprised! The third one out less so, but with a polite request she spoke up. "A glass of each of this one, and this one here would be perfect." She didn't dislike the third, but it wine was already a harder sell for the half giant. But two out of three for an enjoyable drink? That was a masterful skill. She did wish she had more hands, getting drunk at this rate was going to prove difficult. The news Annick brought helped and Kathryn worked down her two drinks much faster than she intended. The main relief being Annick agreeing to the plan. For whatever sort of plan it was.

"Master Rens, you do have a skill in flavors of wine. I was wondering how long you have been at this sort of work? I am not normally a big wine person myself but your recommendations have been on point so far tonight!" Kathryn said enthusiastically, trying to enjoy her time before the work aspect of things came into play. Finally a season of stability she could enjoy, and it was turning into a bigger and bigger mess. For fucks sake. But she had right now to enjoy herself! And if she was fortunate enough, she may not even have to slow down Cecily! She could get herself tipsy beyond reason, and enjoy the night with her date! Then beat BB at this game of horse's shoes the next day. Over bug meat and sweet treats with the moss waters! Things had the potential to turn out really well, especially if Kathryn didn't need to slow down Cecily.

Things couldn't stay on track forever. She heard Cecily's voice coming from the other room and knew the fun was about to end. Hiding her disappointment by downing the two glasses of wine she was carrying, she asked Master Rens another question. "What's you're favorite drink here? Without any pressure from making a sale I would love to know what the master wine maker enjoys the most, or is most proud of." Kathryn asked him enthusiastically, giddy like a small child in a candy store. As Cecily entered the room, Kathryn decided it was time to unwind, and do the best that she could to slow down the lady of the house. Grabbing one of the bottles of wine that she sampled earlier she took a rather large swig from the bottle attempting to drown out the stress of the situation, but pass it off as another silly adventurer moment.

Turning to Annick Kathryn spoke in a drunken and giddy tone that tried its best to sound like a serious noble lady. "My dear, would you be so kind as to grab my date so I can dance with her while I am still standing?" Kathryn spoke in her best noble tone, before giggles started breaking through and a childish smile poked through Kathryn's serious face. She wasn't that drunk yet, but sooner or later the alcohol she downed would kick in. Sooner or later she may have to be to pull off such deception. But it made anything she did here that much more believable if she showed signs of over drinking before she did anything too stupid.

As Cecily entered the room, Kathryn approached her bottle in hand, a silly grin on her face. "The woman of the night! Who we owe are thanks to for hosting such a pleasant event. And who brought all of us together through a rather strange fall, and through a surprisingly eventful winter!" Kathryn said in a tone that sounded like she was attempting to give a cheers, but was a little too out of focus to give it properly. Kathryn figured one way to slow her down was to openly celebrate the night with her! Nothing slowed people down from getting to where they needed to be like celebrating and dancing. Cecily seemed like she was having a decent enough time and wasn't in enough of a rush to turn down a dance. Kathryn, mistress of seduction, had this in the bag. With her free hand out, Kathryn offered it up to Cecily a warm smile on her face, eyes locked in on the woman. "May I have this dance?" This wasn't even attempted flirting. To be fair if Kathryn could simply slow her down by having fun then all the better. Cecily also didn't seem like the type to be into younger woman. But in this mood? Kathryn would dance with about anyone for any reason if they were nice enough.

Alas, Cecily didn't seem as into the idea of dancing at the moment. Citing the lack of music. Offering that maybe Victoria could come in and play some music! "That works out perfectly, I just asked Annick to grab my date. Maybe she can grab Victoria as well! We could all have our own mini ball in here!" Kathryn said excited like she was having the time of her life! "In the mean time, Master Rens? You seem like a great person in social events, any chance you know any songs? I know a couple myself but they're not exactly dancing tunes. Songs of tragedy, sacrifice, and hopes in new lands. All that fun and sad stuff. Sadly not great dance music." Kathryn said with a smile before being interrupted via a violent hiccup. "...ow..." Before she downed another swig of wine from the bottle to drown those evil hiccups in wine.

In that moment, a noise came from Kathryn's pocket. Faint at first, but anyone close enough to hear it could hear words. Spoken words, a call, a plea for assistance. The leader pocket on Kathryn's belt did a poor job at muffling the noises and words coming from the party's monk. Inches from Kathryn's weapon it was well placed to be drawn, and to quickly swap to said weapon and jump to action! The magic warhammer being an ideal tool for dishing out punishment to any poor sucker that happened to cross Kathryn's path while she was in a poor mood. Or worse, in an excited mood for a fight. Had the hammer, and the belt not been nicely set on Kathryn's bed with the bulk of Kathryn's kit. Rarely wearing much outside of her room except her armor, she wasn't sure the best place to keep it and all the spare belts while she was out. So it rested comfortably on her bed while she went out in her dress, sword belt on her hips while she drunkenly tried to slow people down. Should anyone have been in Kathryn's bedroom, they would have heard the magic stone. Had anyone been in the room with Kathryn's full kit, they may have been able to come to BB's aid immediately. Had Kathryn taken better care in being prepared, help would be storming down the road this very moment to flatten any poor bastard that would attempt to harm her sparing buddy. Alas, Kathryn wasn't in her room. She was a ways up the road trying to convince a nice woman into a dance. Ignorant of the plight of her friend.

Weather: Remaining largely the same as previous, the air is still, cold, and only occasionally showing light movement. The snow falls gently, passively, accumulating with a series of patters that resembles very soft white noise. It's kind of nice.

Time: Mere moments have passed since the last update, according to the great timetable of the realm It is still night, about the same time as before with naught but a little more snow upon the ground to serve as pale indicator.

Ambience: This night is an absolute wonder of nocturnal winter escapades. One might see a snowy white fox on out and about, playing deftly with an errant bit of branch like a cat with a ball of string. Gossamer moonlight filtering through wide, lacy snowflakes almost seems to offset the blood staining the ground in the general vicinity of the meeting spot along the thoroughfare.

Within the Winery, it is more or less comfortable of temperature, though it is notably colder in the production areas as opposed to the Tasting Room (and Study). It is reasonably well lit within the production areas thanks to spaced, mundane lighting, though many dim areas remain that might demand a personal source. The Tasting Room and Study are both evenly bright. Production areas are clean and well maintained thanks to the efforts of a well trained staff which is proud of its work, and storage areas keep wine mostly in large casks as opposed to bottles. Insofar as the Study is concerned, things are as described before, but it might be appropriate to say that it is a place full of organized disorganization.



With Kathryn moving toward Cecily and Annick making her way into the Tasting Room (as per agreed upon planning), it looked like the two groups were about to merge a little nearer to the Tasting Room, where as far as the owner was aware, absolutely nothing was happening. The adventurers and the Medician knew better, though they were trying hard to keep that from being common knowledge. This was proving to be harder than initially expected. To begin, Rens was eating up the attention provided, though had little in the way of useful conversation to add to the moment. The most that was gotten out of him, upon asking him directly what his favorite beverage here was, could be summed up as, "Oh, but no, I couldn't possibly pick out just one. I'm a craftmaster, and most of the wine in here was made under my direction. Now, the last Master of Wine had a fine head for this, too. In fact, my favorite of HIS, if any's still around, is likely kept in Master L'Rose's private rooms. I dare say it is no longer held in casks in Storage. Perhaps we might find our way..?"

The interaction with Cecily was, in its own way, successful, though not in the manner originally intended. She smiled and took to the flattery with grace and humor, but did draw the line at having a dance with Kathryn. "Oh, I don't know if that's proper, really. Besides, we were just on our way into the Tasting Room for a refill of the Honigblume. Perhaps you all should join us and we can just make it one big tour? How would that be... Master Rens, are you okay?"

The suggestion for Rens to sing a song was unfortunately taken seriously, if only the older man might have struck up the courage on his own to implement it. The Dwarven maxim of "finding courage at the bottom of a bottle" was put to task, as he took it upon himself to imbibe heavily from the wine receptacle her was using to dispense samples to the others, wipe his face, and walk forward with timid uncertainly, like he had come to a decision about something but needed that extra push for implementation. From his throat issued a baritone which quavered at first, but settled into a slow, steady cadence as he went on.

Without music.

In the middle of Wine Storage.

"Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Black Betty had a child, bam-ba-lam
The damn thing gone wild, bam-ba-lam

She said, "I'm worryin' outta mind, " bam-ba-lam
The damn thing gone blind, bam-ba-lam
I said, "Oh, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam"

Cecily looked on with muted horror as her Master of Wine carried on in the manner which he did, curious as to how long he'd hidden the fact that he sung. Badly. But Rens felt very much alive in the moment and began to belt out the next couple of verses with even less inhibitions, his imprecise tune filling every corner of the underground rooms.

"Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
She really gets me high, bam-ba-lam
You know that's no lie, bam-ba-lam

She's so rock steady, bam-ba-lam
And she's always ready, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam"

Annick had begun to make herself scarce already. The Mosswaters looked upon the spectacle with their own sense of impropriety mounting, except while Tarace was as taken aback as Cecily, Barbal was turning red from holding in what might have been a mighty guffaw. Monsieur Laurent, on the other hand, let out a quieter issuance of, "I've had enough of this. Sober anyhow," and turned to move in the direction of the Tasting Room, none to far away at this point.

MEANWHILE,

In the Study, the diminutive Chauncey appeared before Kosara in the manner of a summoned creature, gave a loooong stretch and flexed its manipulative little paws, then took to its orders presently. He gave a little wave and scurried off, taking point at the still open door to the Study. Chauncey poked his little nose out and kept sharp eyes pointed at the entryways to the Tasting Room, hopefully hidden well enough to avoid detection.

From the somewhere in the Winery, singing could be heard. It was not particularly good singing, and the nature of the song was different from the usual local options for music. What could be heard and understood, in any case. The voice was unfamiliar to anyone within the Study, and Chauncey, if that mattered. Familiarity or not, shortly after the singing began, the summoned Rat made its way back to Kosara's line of sight. It reared onto its back legs and chittered quietly, waving its front paws in the air as to get his Mistress's attention. The criteria of its orders had been met, and the response given.

EVEN MORE MEANWHILE,

Blood left an irregular spattering across the snow near the Meeting Spot, far away from every other living soul that Baronfjord knew in this area. The fight continued as the indomitable Monk squared off against the tireless foe, the latter performing especially well for a lesser Undead creature, generally without the gift of cognitive ability. But this one seemed to be different somehow. As blows continued to be traded, offered, or evaded, the loud cry of a bird could be heard from somewhere overhead - specifically, a croaking caw common to larger black corvids.

Skele-Toombes did not cease its assault against Baronfjord to the best of its ability, but the Voice could be heard issuing in calm, even amused syllables. "Is that one of your pets, come to save you? I didn't think something like you capable of a trick like that. It may wait its turn, like the rest." One could day that the fight continued, but a better description it that it didn't even pause.

The fighters continued trading blows in the snow bitten moonlight. BlackBerry's breath froze into soft clouds in the darkness as he continued his part of the dance. The skeletal figure stepped forward with its right hand down in preparation for an attack, then shot it forward only for BlackBerry defensively swatting away the blow. But his guard had been fooled! The other skeletal hand shot out from the shadows and buried into BlackBerry's chest.

Biting back another cry BlackBerry jumped after the skeletons withdraw and tried to land a kick only for the creature to hop lazily away with a laugh. But he carried the momentum forward and planted his foot deep into the riding snow, snapping out his fist into the creatures chest. The remaining flesh upon its form collapsed under the blow But the remains of Toombes was apparently unperturbed by this damage to it's suit and simply laughed again almost with a bored drawl to its voice when it spoke.

"Oh would you kindly-" BlackBerry spat, rage driving his next attack forward, the astral limb snapping forward into empty air where the skeleton had been just a moment before.

BlackBerry twisted on the ball of his foot following the creatures movements, it empty eyes, its stolen smile, its grotesque dress of the man it had once been now cruelly killed. BlackBerry ground his teeth.

"Do. Be." He stepped forward. An astral limb burned with fury into the physical plane. A yell tore from between clenched teeth. "Quiet!"

The astral limb tore apart the short space between it and it's target. Had the skull still be encased in flesh it would likely have just been a broken nose, a cracked cheekbone and a lot of bruising. Instead however, the skull snapped violently backwards on the hinge of the neck and what little flesh remained gave a token effort before snapping completely, and the skull flew backwards spinning away from the body into the darkness. The body stood for a few seconds, almost as shocked as BlackBerry, before it toppled forward into the snow. Finally at peace.

"Ah." BlackBerry, after a minute to compose himself, grimaced down at the corpse. Still with the Astral arms up he inched closer and then, because you could never be sure, nudged the shoulder with his foot. It didn't move. "Well. one problem solved...I am sorry Master Toombes. I do hope you did not suffer." He tried not to focus too much on the flayed skin of the skeleton.

BlackBerry turned away from the corpse and looked towards the main house, with nearly all its lights dark it looked quiet and picturesque in the falling snow, but to Blackberry it held a worrying question. He stared at it for any sign of something out of the ordinary, anything out of place, anything might reveal trouble was afoot. He couldn't see anything, not at this distance at least.

"Victoria?" He called to the darkness above hoping for a replying 'caw'. "Do say that is you there, and all else is well at least?"

In the flickering torchlight BlackBerry stood flanked by his astral limbs and steam rose quietly in torn rags from his lips, and blood from his wounds froze into red dripples. He inched forwards towards the path fighting the urge to sprinting down it.

"Oh my," began Victoria, her attention diverting from the table's contents in front of her and over to her Tiefling colleague, who had brought out her own summoned companion. Just in that moment, she didn't quite recall seeing Kosara summon up this little guy since ...ever. "Good idea. I had forgotten about that." In the fight which liberated little Chauncey, Victoria had dispatched and temporarily reanimated several rats in a blatant ploy to overwhelm Chauncey's former master and hoped that the little guy didn't bear a grudge. But as it looked, the summoned rat didn't seem to care about her presence in the least. Maybe it wasn't aware. Maybe that was for the best.

Off in the distance, a spirit in the form of a black, generally diurnal bird fought against colder air to rise to a decent gliding height. It had been given a set of instructions and was bound to follow them on behalf of its Mistress. The first thing that it did was, when it had achieved enough elevation, was bank in the direction of the Coach House and, when within shouting distance, let loose with two sets of three short CAWs, and turned in the direction of the Estate House. It dove low, as best a Raven might in the darkness, its purpose only to get within communication distance with Victoria.

Inspecting what she could about the setup on the table, Victoria was curious to see that Kosara's summon had returned, and rather quickly. She froze for a moment, aware of what command her associate had given it. Someone was coming. They had to wrap up quickly. Still, she hesitated, getting a flood of sensory information to her mind without having bid for it. It was unexpected, yet ironically familiar all at once. But the information that she was able to translate from the mental connection was unclear at first, focusing in the direction of the main road leading off of the Vineyard, and the agreed upon signal of urgency she had communicated to it before she sent it off into the night. "Baronfjord needs help," she said rather directly.

It was at this exact moment that Annick found her way into the doorway, which gave Victoria a startle. At least it wasn't Cecily who walked in on them while they were being ever-so-slightly dishonest, but her message was clear enough: "Cecily and her group are coming this way now. Kathryn is trying to stall. It's embarrassing, but it's working. She sent me in here to fetch the both of you." The older woman made a gesture as it say WRAP IT UP, and moved to keep her own vigil at the door with it pulled nearly closed.

In her haste, and without the best of ethic or consideration, Victoria opened the journal to a spot somewhere in the middle and lay the grape bunch pendant, fancy stick, and as yet unread paper inside. The dirt, she left there. Graveyard soil was useful in many circumstances, but this was not a time to give this specific dirt a harder look. With Annick present, Victoria reiterated her point from just a moment ago. "Baronfjord is in some kind of trouble." She then elaborated, "I don't know what kind. My Familiar will have already given Morty a signal and he should be on the way now." She intended to leave the building outright, and in fact probably needed to in order to prevent her thrall from wandering off or getting its control usurped by whatever power had this place. At least so that it could find her readily. She looked to Kosara, not knowing whether she wished to come with or continue the investigation quietly here, either one of which would have made tactical sense to the Bard. "How do you wish to proceed?" Either way, Victoria was off.

Back in the Coach House, Morty's nonexistent senses of reason and initiative failed to spark. It was capable of understanding and fulfilling the standing orders given to it, and while it did not have the desire to, persay, its unflinching loyalty birthed of a lack of sapience and animation by necromentic energies did well to compel it to action. Its mistress had handed off Ritual books and some arcane supplies to it, and the walking foodstuff clutched her slim, silvered sword within its sheath with its mouth. It was to move as directly as it could while avoiding obstacles with these belongings to Victoria, where she might be as best equipped for trouble as she might, regardless of what it might be. In truth, though, Morty was stymied by simple, enraging physics. Being as it was a solid creature, it was unable to move through solid objects, itself. The doors were closed. If Morty had the capacity to feel stupid, it might have happened just then. If Morty was skeletal and had opposable thumbs, this might not have been an issue. But there it stood, in front of a closed door, held back from fulfilling its standing orders because of a lack of foresight.

Kosara’s curious conundrums and carefully carousal of curated curios weren’t as conclusive as she could have hoped for, but as a whole there were a few good points of information to be collected from the desk affair investigation. For one, the tiefling quite quickly realized that the entire desk was extremely well organized… one might say almost overly so. There was nary a thing out of place which in itself was a thing that was probably out of place. The tiefling dancer was quite convinced that something was off with the desk state of affairs, this organization was a bit too much to be entirely natural… except unless the old man was very obsessive about it, but if that was the case, the rest of the room and perhaps the entire Vineyard would have been perfectly organized. So no, in the end Kosara decided that the desk state of affairs was indeed unnatural and probably a clue to something grander in some form or capacity, but sadly she didn’t have an idea what it might be right now… except maybe the box. Her eyes also glanced over to where Chauncey was every now and then, making sure to keep an eye for potential dangers who might catch their snooping.

A quick superficial examination of the box that included a look over, a poke with the poke with the tip of her right shoe and an attempt to open it had led to a conclusive conclusion that the box was pretty locked.” Drat. Foiled by a lock.” She exclaimed, pouting at the realization that she couldn’t open it. Being locked, meant that it was probably holding something important and she had a feeling it was probably important, what with the desk’s unnatural state of organization. She for the briefest of moments really considered if getting the thing opened with force would be worth the hassle and was feeling the muscles tense underneath her skin.

Suddenly she caught the movement at the edge where she had seen the little rat. It was energetically moving it’s little paws to catch her attention! Somebody was approaching! The tiefling REALLY felt the desire to smash the box now mostly cause she had been so focused on the thing that she hadn’t paid attention enough! Did they have enough time to close the door to prevent people from realizing they were inside?! Kosara practically ran around the desk, ready to close the doors shut when she spotted V and froze when the woman spoke.” What?! What happened?” She asked, eyes going wide in shock! Berry was in trouble!? Why? How!?

As if the planes were conspiring against them, Annick turned out to be the one who was approaching and delivered even more bad news. Kosara just blinked at first, Kathryn was trying to stall? How did her REALLY good friend do it? The warrior wasn’t exactly the subtle type… maybe that’s why it was working? Hard to ignore a hammer to the face after all? The tiefling just took a breath, blinked and decided.” We go for Berry right away.” She stated and looked at V, nodding.” Chauncey, come here and let’s make sure you are secured.” She told the little critter as she picked him up and trying to secure him safely in her clothing since they were probably going to move fast and she didn’t want anything happening to it.

“Hopefully nothing happens to whatever clues are hidden here, but it can’t be helped. Berry’s important friend to us!” Kosara proclaimed with conviction.” Let’s go and help him before something even worse happens! He’s too shiny to be allowed to die!” And she was back to being Kosara.” The door can be locked again, yes? Hopefully that would be enough to preserve it for us to investigate at a later time again. Let’s go, V you can lead the way, yes?” She asked hopefully!

Things could be going a little easier. However, some things were going Kathryn's way! Kathryn had slowed down the other tour group despite her failed effort to dance with Cecily. Buying time, that is what she could do for now. Annick was on her way to get the others, and Kathryn was hoping it would be enough time. She also hoped she wouldn't make too much of a fool of herself in the process. SO far, she seemed to just be making a light fool of herself. Very manageable for a festive drinking night. Her true savoir? Craft Master Rens!

He was an expert at helping Kathryn get shit faced. Really helped buy into the too shit faced to limit her own impulsiveness! Fuck yeah. "Well if you think of a favorite of yours I'd love to hear it. As for the former master of wine... Keep a tab on that thought, I'd like to stay local for a moment so we can sample some of the stock here." She didn't want to accidentally bring her own group through and create problems with her party while they snooped. So, she'd keep them here for just a tad bit more. The man even came through when Kathryn's attempt to slow Cecily stalled out. That Champion of a man had come through, and offered up some music! "My Dude!" Kathryn exclaimed as Master Rens began singing. Kathryn's face was smiling so wide while she had the time of her life stalling. Despite not dancing with Cecily Kathryn was overall winning. Helping her people, drinking, and having fun while doing so! Not only could he sing, he could sing music that Kathryn wanted to stomp her foot too and throw people around in. Shame the lack of a dance partner would limit her options.

Monsieur Laurent was complicating things again. So again, Kathryn would have to attempt to woo her magic and Feminine charm. As he moved to circumvent the fun, Kathryn moved to intercept. Height alone when she moved she presented an obstical that was worth trying to avoid collision. She had a natural skill at herding people who didn't want to get crushed under her boots, and Monsieur Laurent was no exception as Kathryn spun herself in front of him. "You're leaving so soon? Such a party pooper!" Kathryn said trying to suppress a giggle. Taking a sip of the bottle that she had sampled earlier, she set it down wide toothy grin on her face. "We have wine and music here, so have a drink, and dance with me Monsieur Laurent." She spoke with the booze finally beginning to hit her, a soft hint of an elvish accent sweetly blending into her words as she spoke. Her normally sweet and reserved tone dropping an octave as drunken confidence took over.

When he agreed (More or less) Kathryn took both hands with a cheerful grin. "That's not a nooo!" Kathryn exclaimed as she sing songed taking both of Monsieur Laurent's hands in her own. The calicious doing wonders for the woman's death grip on the man's hands as she began dancing rather aggressively to Master Rens tune! "I have no idea the words to this song!" Kathryn cheered as she began to spin in circles in the storage room, her hostage forced to dance along as letting go could mean being sent off to gods knew where, and required the willing release from the half giant who just found herself a new play thing. Escape would prove difficult for even the most determined and skilled foe.

Weather: It is still a nice, soft evening, so long as one does not mind the cold. Breath condenses in the air readily before it cools and dissipates into the atmosphere, rising against the fall of slow, fat flakes of snow. Cloud cover is heavy but spotted enough that it deprives one of viewing the lovely winter moon every now and again.

Time: Seeing as it's only been a few minutes since the last tome we addressed the situation, it is safe to say that it is still night, and still moderately early into that night. Maybe an hour, hour and a half past dark.

Ambience: The afore mentioned fox paused in its nighttime merriment, abandoning its newly found stick which was deftly dug from the snow. It looked down upon an odd sight with growing interest, not quite decided as to whether it should run to be safe, or continue with its own plans for the night. It caught the scent of blood on the frosty air and gave it additional consideration.

The Winery's interior maintains its more or less stable temperature, more comfortable by leaps and bounds than the cold from the outside. The area is mostly well lit, though the occasional spot exists where a personal form of illumination would be useful. No appreciable changes have occurred in these rooms within recent moments, except for the barest incremental decrease in volume for a few selected wines therein. Except for the wailings of Rens and the heavy footfalls of Kathryn (and maybe the almost protestations of Laurent), it is quite muted. The surroundings are not conducive to the rebound of noise, echo nor ambient. Huge casks surround all here, in ordered sections and a decent amount of space between them.



As the differing tour groups have converged in Storage outside of the Tasting Room, it is safe to assume that there is clear and even view of all parties between each other. This ease and clarity of view extends to the door leading into the Tasting Room, and vice versa. At that exact moment, however, attention is aptly being diverted to the spectacle of a very large and imposing woman, merrily leading a middle-aged landowner in an impromptu dance to the a cappella rendering of a song unfamiliar to these parts, and might I add very badly. Master Rens was one with extraordinary gifts for wine, not the entertainment arts. It showed.

Tarace Mosswater clutched a handkerchief to his mouth in a fit of manners, now that said orifice was agape in a manner most ungentlemanly. His lifemate Barbal, on the other hand (quite literally, as it turned out) had shoved the side of his outstretched right hand into his mouth, like he was giving the world's least accurate military salute. He bit down hard - hard enough for his eyes to water - as he tried not to lose himself in gales of whooping laughter. Tarace pulled absently at Barbal's sleeve, seemingly unaware that the gruff Halfling was fighting for his life to stay upright, whispering words that no one, not even Barbal, heard. "Is this..? Was this..? Humans do this? On purpose?"

Ever the proper lady of business and extended means, Cecily had more of a shocked expression on her face, marveling over the novelty of it all. She regarded the pair of them, Kathryn and Monsieur Laurent, engaged in the most awkward dance that the Mistress of the Estate had ever personally witnessed. Cecily occasionally was able to tear her eyes away from them to slap immediately in Rens's direction, as the man just kept singing. There had to be something in the wine. Or the air. Or some enchantment from one of the spellcasting types, wherever they were right then. If there was a saving grace to this carefully collapsing social situation, it was that no one was paying attention to the door, which was otherwise in plain sight.

MEANWHILE:

Chauncey readily found the out of the way spot upon Kosara's person whereupon he might remain, though in a sort of unvocalized suggestion, the diminutive rodent pawed at the pendant around his Tiefling handler's neck. Otherwise, the little guy was fine with attaching wherever there was a good spot of cloth and hanging on with its wonderfully articulate grasping paws, resting in a pocket with a fizzy head poking out, or just keeping low. Very amenable creature, that Chauncey.

Lizbeth had busied herself looking into one of the displays along the wall, this one being a now open cabinet full of curio. She carefully lifted out what looked like a sheathed, lightly curved blade in dire need of work and polish, next to a series of oddly shaped coins. There was a slightly conical helmet present as well, with a veil of extremely rust-damaged mail attached. Her studious regard of these artifacts was brought to a close by Annick's appearance, startling her into dropping the helmet back onto the shelf. It made more noise than might have been preferred. A shot of fear was seen in Lizbeth's eyes, not just because of the sudden break of quiet, but also held in the glance made in the general direction of the huge, looking box atop the slightly raised area. She noted that no one seemed to want to look inside, and this gave her a note of relief to add into her swirling anxiety.

The young lady did take in the fact that they were leaving quickly, and heard Baronfjord's name mentioned. She held onto the tarnished weapon in one hand and said in a shaky voice, "I'm coming, too." It seemed like she felt a need to convince herself.

ALSO MEANWHILE:

From the top of a rise, Baronfjord might make out the scrutiny of two front-facing eyes reflecting the lamplight as he makes his slow walk back in the direction of the Estate House. Blood drip, drip, drips from his wounds, marking a path back to the scattered snow of his fight like a crimson trail marker. The call into the air after the departing bird, made known only because of its earlier cry, goes unanswered. It's cold, but it's quiet. At least, it was for a good long number of seconds, until a voice could be audibly heard from the defiled remains of Toombes, "Thank you for a lovely party. You have been an excellent dancing partner. I have learned enough from you tonight. Please tell your friends I also look forward to learning from them. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Subdued chuckles fade quickly into the night.

Adrenaline quickly shot back through Blackberry's body when the voice came once again. He spun to face the corpse, the wound in his side screamed at him, reading himself for another fight.

But no fight came. The corpse remained still and silent once more. Hopefully it would stay that way.

He let out a deep sigh which turned to fog in the freezing night air. All at once his strength seemed to leave him and even the astral arms still floating at his shoulders appeared to droop, even dimming slightly.

"Well you simply cannot be left unsupervised." He muttered more to himself than to the headless corpse. He tried hard to suppress a shiver without much luck.

The astral limbs came back into focus upon the physical plane and fingers took shape at the ends, gripping and then pulling the fabric of Blackberry's robes which had come slightly loose sluggishly back into place. He gave a little yelp of pain when he tried to touch the first wound he had been given, and with a hiss BlackBerry decided to leave investigating it to later. He hoped it would be somewhere warm. Speaking of hopes, he turned his head back up to the sky in the hopes of seeing what had made the earlier 'caws' of reply but was met simply by snowflakes upon a backdrop of darkness. BlackBerry looked again to the silent Winery in the distance and then back to the corpse, now slowly gathering a thin blanket of snow. He couldn't stay there standing around freezing his bits off, but he didn't trust leaving the corpse on it's own either, but also what if somewhere was happening back at the winery?

The corpses last words hung heavy in the air and BlackBerry took the moment to wondered if anything he may have given the creature. He was certain he hadn't said anything particular, but perhaps its 'experiment' was more to do with it than him? No...it said it had learned from him...but what?

BlackBerry shook the worries from his mind; he didn't have the time right now to wonder, he had to find out if the others were okay, and then (Cecily's words concerning the dead being on the property from days ago came to mind) get Toombes' body out of here. With the reassuring thought that the corpse probably couldn't do much without a skull (he made a mental note to find the skull, having a vague idea of where it had been sent flying to) he took off down the path back towards the winery at a pained, limping run.

And the evening had started off so well too!

---
Jon meanwhile nearly tripped his way out of the Study upon the heels of the adventurers with his head spinning like a top, right into the sight of Monsieur Laurent being damn near manhandled by Lady Kathryn in what very generously be called a dance. Currently he felt as if held together equal parts in spite of and because of the glass of wine he still held like a life line to anything sane in the world. Earlier, he had wisely kept his mouth shut after Victoria's thorough if blunt explanation of the situation which he couldn't really argue against.

Now however the man looked slightly ill and kept opening, the closing his mouth and worrying the words he didn't quite have the gall to say. Horse, livestock, how to run a stable those were all things he knew and had very strong, and loud, opinions on. Graveyard soil? Rituals? Magic? This was all far above his station and anything else he had ever wanted in life. Waddling to the table he made sure not to meet either Annicks gaze or her supposed wrath.

"Baronfjørd is in trouble?" Jon echoed as he put down the now empty glass, with the worry barely contained in his voice. "Well we best go get the man before he half freezes out there dressed as he was and how he is." He was already pulling his coat close tight and steeling himself for the cold. "What sort of trouble are we looking at Miss Victoria? Now, now hold on lets not all go rushing out there like headless chickens."

The scant amount of time prior to exiting the Study gave enough wiggle room to hastily give explanation as to her assertion that Baronfjord was, indeed, in trouble. While gathering what she needed to for the purposed of readily exiting the area in as least obtrusive a manner as possible, she reverted to her usual manner of speaking when engaging in professional activities; that is to say, when acting within her nature as a Bard. She was colorful, engaging, and informative while keeping to business. "Jons, I am relieved that you're showing concern for your ..hmm... would you call him a pupil? Well, Baronfjord. But as I mentioned, I do not know what kind of trouble he's in. I'll be more transparent, if it helps: I have a Familiar - like a Wizard's pet - and an animated Thrall. They're just as adorable as they can be, and more importantly, they are incredibly useful for a great many things. Just this evening, my Raven has been scouting the area, when our friend left to find Monsieur Toombes. If it is close enough, we can communicate. It wasn't close enough to let me see exactly what the trouble is, but I am getting the mental image of the raven staring down the main road. If all goes well, my Morty will be joining me in that area, with ...with the things I use in the event of emergencies. You understand?"

Having packed the things she collected from the ritual area up and tucked them into the back of her belt, Victoria took the occasion to traipse out as boldly as she might. She found Annick already at the door leading into the Winery's Storage area. It was cracked open slightly and the older lady had a curious expression on her face. She shrugged, apparently using whatever she witnessed firsthand as distraction enough to slip out with surprising agility and grace. Ghostlike, the Medician glided across the floor with swift, soft footfalls. It was like she was never there.

Victoria glanced back to the Study door. "I can't lock it without a key. Maybe pull it closed and hope nobody checks?" Whichever way this went, she needed to move immediately, while they still had the opportunity presented to them by the gods-awful singing and, now that she was near the exit door, the fully unexpected disruption of Kathryn (maybe forcibly) dancing that Laurent. She could see why Annick paused before exiting. It was equal parts horrifying, funny, and transfixing. But she cleared her head enough to take the plunge and cross the open area, following her mentor's path.

It was rare that Victoria took to actions which lessened attention to herself, but she performed the task like a seasoned professional. Step by step, fluidly placed in succession with minimal physical profile, soft clothing giving nary a rustle as she crossed the distance in the open and to places outside of the line of sight. Even then, she slipped with curiously nuanced ability behind rows of barrels and bottles, ever moving for the exit. Victoria hoped that Lizbeth, Kosara, and Jon were able to make it undetected as well, but from the second that they were in open spaces, there wasn't a thing she could do even if she wanted to.

Victoria joined Annick in the cold air of the Avonshire night. Her Raven fluttered down to her, making small, urgent noises as it perched on her arm. As if speaking to a colleague, the Bard spoke to her Familiar, "Truly? Do show me." The great, black bird took off once again, flying in the direction of the main thoroughfare. "We're close enough now that I can use its senses. Nothing like a bird's eye view, but I can only see where the lights are very well." Almost ominously, she added, "Something is moving up the road." She could tell that it wasn't Morty, like she hoped it might be. For defense, spellwork and a really nice dagger notwithstanding, she really would have felt better with her sword, and her porcine bodyguard.

“Don’t worry Chauncey. You can go back home in a bit then.” Kosara said in reassuring voice to the little rat as it began pawing the amulet that summoned it.” There’s some cheese in the other room! I will give you some before you go back first!” She told it with a smile. Hey they nonsense adventures in Avonshire with the ratmen wasn’t a reason to be angry at Chauncey now, was it? He was adorable and well behaved.

“Alright then, we’ve got a plan. Let’s go!” The pale white tiefling declared with a huge grin as she stormed out of the Study and to the tasting room. She kept at attention to make sure the door to the study was properly closed when they left it then she headed to the plates in the tasting room that held all the cheese and proceeded to find some good nice pieces of cheese and offered Chauncey the cheese.” Here, you can eat them while we are heading out, I will unsummon you once we are outside the celler. Not sure if the cheese I give you will go with you if I just unsummon you now.” She said with a smile as she kept one of her hands that had the cheese near the place she had squared Chauncey safely on her garments.

After making sure she was ready, she spotted the fact that V was already out the door and hurried after. She was the second to leave the room and had she been anyone else, she probably would have had to do a double take at the scene that had greeted her. As the situation stood, there was Kosara at the doorway gazing at the unknowable scene before her with barely a raised eyebrow as one of her hands held cheese to the rat she carried as she attempted to sneak out… badly, but when stealth was concerned, it was all a matter of perspective.

Kosara snuck/walked through the open area with the grace of a dancer and the sneaking ability of a white thiefing trying to hide on a dark background. Whichever the case, whomever saw her, wasn’t much of importance as she hurried after the bard until they were outside. She listened to V and nodded before looking down at Chauncey.” Alright, I’m going to unsummon you now, hold onto the cheese, but if it doesn’t come with you, I will summon you tomorrow if the danger has passed.” She told the rat and proceeded to unsummon it.

With Chauncey away, Kosara focused briefling, a spark of magic flickering.” Light!” She ordered her spell, pulling on the components pouch that never left her person. Moments later her top began shining in a bright sun-like light as she knew they had humans with them and seeing in the dark was always good thing. Even darkside had disadvantages after all.

Kathryn had to put on the illusion that she was shitface passed most of her reasoning. Which thankfully wasn't true. She just happened to be drunk enough to let loose, and was motivated enough to keep things going! Though if she wasn't careful with her drinking she may soon end up in a position of losing most of her reasoning skills. So far though? She still had a working thinker. So far! She had not busted her own ability to think and reason. Totally. Was she getting a little dizzy? Yes. Yes she was. But that could be expected with the alcohol in her system and the number of spins she had performed.

As Kathryn continued spinning around she spoke up to Monsieur Laurent as every wall got to share a frame for a split second. "Come on, admit it, you're having a great time!" Kathryn spoke gleefully as her voice raised 2 octaves as the excited woman attempted to keep her prisoner close. At this point Kathryn couldn't even be sure how long things had gone on, or how close or far she was from the door way. Or even for sure that everyone was still here in the room! Though she was mostly sure. Otherwise, she would need to learn to dance with multiple people at once. And that seemed rather tricky.

Kathryn did however notice Kosara passing by. She was mostly almost sure that the woman was trying to be sneaky, but overall couldn't be too sure. deciding to lean on the safe side, she kept to her self, and made sure that Monsieur Laurent wasn't facing Kosara's direction while the woman moved. She wondered if something important was going on if they were passing through the room rather than just exiting the tasting room? Did they need her help? She couldn't be too sure overall.

Once she was pretty sure the coast was clear, Kathryn spun Monsieur Laurent and lifted him high in the air hands under both of his arms and set him down, spinning him outwards holding tight onto one hand as she set up the man to be parralell to herself. Only once the two of them were facing the other wine tasters did Kathryn offer a bow. "Thank you, thank you, We'll be here all night." Kathryn spoke up with her overall tone much calmer and softer now that she had burnt off some of that energy. "Master Rens, Thank you so much for the music. It really lightened the mood! Now, where did we leave off again?" Kathryn said before a hiccup finished her sentence for her, and she began to let out a few drunken giggles.

Weather: The winds have picked up a little, giving fat snowflakes a slightly more horizontal path downward. It is still quite cold; certainly cold enough to maintain the snowfall and cold enough to keep the white, fluffy stuff accumulating on the ground. Nevertheless, it is quite tolerable to those acclimated to the weather or properly attired for the occasion. The increase in wind does allow for a little more of a visit from a particularly luminescent moon through openings in the clouds. It's kind of nice to anyone who isn't suffering from a gaping torso wound (or three).

Time: The nighttime, of course, is the right time.

Ambience: The increased presence of people outside in the dead of night has convinced the fox that discretion is the better part of valor, and has beat a hasty retreat to more secluded areas. The scent of blood upon the air, while tempting the interest and curiosity of the little predator, is not suitable to overpower its instincts of self-preservation. Soft paws scurry across the snow in retreat.

The Winery is decorated mostly in varying lighting and looks of confusion from the vast majority of the persons present. One exception to the ongoing shock (with just a skosh of dismay) is the Halfling farm owner, Barbal. He looks to be overjoyed in ways that he likely hadn't experienced in many years. And Laurent, busy being manhandled, was harder to read than his agricultural colleagues. Aside from this, it is comfortable within this mostly underground facility of fine wine production - designed to keep a more or less stable temperature. This sits in opposition to the stairs and foyer leading to the outdoors, whereupon the transition from stable to frigid is too fast to be incremental.



Within Winery Storage, it appeared that things were coming to a close. Or at least a slowdown of sorts, as Rens trailed his song off to its logical conclusion point. One could easily recognize it as the stretched series of syllables which sounded roughly as, "BAM-BA-LAAAAAAAAAAAM!" and ended with a particularly smug expression across his round, outgoing features. Lizbeth used this truly cringeworthy opportunity to gather herself and the shortish, curved sword she had liberated from her grandfather's study and hurried along, taking the same path as the Medician from just earlier. It was the tiniest stroke of luck that she was able to remove herself from the rooms without notice.

With no immediate encore from Rens, Laurent backed away from Kathryn and straightened his high-collared waistcoat with a sense of outrage, muted for the sake of some sort of sense of propriety. Nevertheless, the haughty Human, having been conscripted into a dance and spun about like a middle-aged ragdoll then set down like a sack of root vegetables, could feel the redness seeping into his face just as much as everyone else could plainly see it. "Well, I never have been as disrespectfully maltreated as this! Lady Kathryn, I shall not suffer this behavior a moment further!" He turned his attention to Cecily, growling, "Thank you for your hospitality, Madame L'Rose. Good evening." Laurent turned upon his heel and began to make his way back out of the building. But this was not enough to sate the petulant anger from the man. Briskly walking toward the exit, he curtly snipped, "And someone should put a leash on your pet Tiefling. She's wandering around unchaperoned."

Cecily opted not to say anything in this moment, truly stunned by the ever-complicating drama that Kathryn just added to her wine tasting party. Tarace Mosswater seemed to be in the same boat with panicked mutism, but ever the peacemaker, he ran along to get to Laurent before he could fully leave. When the two of them hit the next room, there was an exchange of muffled words as one might assume the smoothing over of events was taking place through the careful use of deescalating dialogue. Tarace returned way too soon to have accomplished much in the way of diplomacy, instead bearing a face as red as Laurent's had been moments ago. Dutifully, he looked to Kathryn. An expression of pure embarrassment, he was finally able to stammer out words which came together to form this sentiment: "Monsieur Laurent would like to have you for Tea next Midweek."

Barbal, unable to contain himself any longer, fell to the floor amid gales of whooping laughter.

Still in the Tasting Room, Jon just stood there amid the abandoned glasses and evidence of festivities. He chewed thoughtfully upon a piece of cheese, content to keep himself removed from anything else this night.

Outside, there gathered a motley assortment of Adventuring types and those who found themselves within their orbit. Veteran Medician Annick Floquet, Grey Requiem Bard Victoria Belmont, Celestial Warlock Kosara of the Southern Deserts, and finally the young Vineyard Heiress Lizbeth L'Rose.

Kosara's light spell went off without hitch nor stumble, greatly illuminating the area around them in ways that the lamps simply did not. Such light would be open and obvious to anyone once they reached the top half of the main thoroughfare, including (but not limited to) Baronfjord Chedgusah, still making his way back to his group. The unsummoning of Chauncey likewise went smoothly, however it might be noted that, upon being told that he was about to revert to whatever state awaited him involving the pendant, the little guy stuffed as much cheese into his face as possible. What remained otherwise fell to the ground.

The sound of steps coming up from stairs behind them could be heard, accompanied by quiet muttering of dissatisfaction in a very local accent which could only be from Monsieur Laurent. Regardless of a spectator about to arrive in their immediate vicinity, or the sudden use of magic from the Warlock, Lizbeth took the occasion to slide her newly acquired weapon from its aged and damaged scabbard. It had a straight spine yet curved edge which got a little wider toward the end, like a light, wide machete which came to a wicked point. She stared at it for a moment. Curiously, the worst of the pitting and discoloration to the blade fell from it and she immediately resheathed it into antiqued but well kept leather and burnished metal. In a determined but young voice, Lizbeth "You said Baron was in trouble. Can you see him now?" She sounded scared, but chose not to seek safety.

Annick knelt in the snow and pulled a small kit bag from underneath her cloak. She checked its contents and replaced it, though now within easy reach. "Best to be prepared," she spoke in simple syllables. One wasn't sure when it might have happened, but while no one was looking, two particularly wicked looking knives had found their way into her hands. They looked very comfortable in the older woman's grasp.

The snows drifted down diagonally now, a sign that the weather might seek to deepen as the colder night air built up. Nevertheless, the area around the Adventurers was bright enough to be easily spotted, even if this renewed light source limited their own vision past a certain point. It was genuinely a glorious night, provided that one liked snow - and provided that one wasn't aware of the blood.

Light! BlackBerry could see another spot of light flare into life outside the Winery, and revealed the dull shadows of others waiting outside. Moonlight finally broke through the clouds and snow, filling in the sea of darkness of the path between the torches along the path. Encouraged by his luck apparently, finally, turning for the better he picked up the paced down towards the winery. With his path revealed he put on more speed, running full pelt down the path and ignoring the stabbing, twisting shards of pain now screaming from his side. He told himself he'd deal with the consequences later, right now he had to get to the others.

"Kosara! Victoria!" BlackBerry cried in delight and relief when he had bound up the last star to the upper thoroughfare. He should have known really; that light of Kasara's was fairly unique. "Oh thank the Gods. Please do tell me that all is well here at least."

He came to a stumbling halt in front of everyone who had gathered and then bent double with a small hiss after something in one of his wounds shifted. Despite his efforts applying what little pressure he could stand to them the wounds in his sides had reopened, and warm blood trickled over his fingers, staining his robes and the snow dusted path with crimson. BlackBerry could only stand to take a shallow breath to fortify himself. His eyes flickered between Annick, surprised by the old woman wielding knives, and then to Lizbeth who had managed to find yet another weapon to add to her arsenal. How? He hadn't been gone that long.

Through chattering teeth and shallow breaths he explained, "There was a...an unexpected Guest. Worry not though I dealt with them but I shall need some assistance." He made sure to keep eyes with Kosara and Victoria as he continued, hoping that they would understand his meaning. There were matters to discuss but it didn't seem wise to mention them with Madame L'Rose's guests present. "It may also be prudent to check for any othe-Master Laurant, I ask you go back inside. If you would please. Just until we can settle any lingering matters at least. It should not take too long I do assure you."

When Victoria joined Annick in the cold outside, pulling her fine garb about her a little closer as something of an afterthought. Already she focused her senses back into the perspective of her Raven, trying once again to gather detail on the shape approaching even if it left her more vulnerable back in her own body. When the figure revealed itself nearer to a lamp as their missing comrade, Baronfjord, the Bard allowed herself a sigh of relief. She relaxed the grip on her dagger, an action that she wasn't fully aware she had done until just that moment.

By this time, Kosara had arrived and provided her own magical illumination which contrasted sharply with Victoria's senses, having just occupied them behind a metaphorical feathered mask. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, revealing a now closer blue Dragonborn and his obvious wounds. The change in light also prevented her from appreciating the actions taken be the newest outside arrival, Lizbeth. Her head turned slightly to see that the girl had liberated a weapon that was a little more lethal than her whip from her grandfather's study. In that moment, Victoria was curious as to what else might be in there - but there were more pressing matters.

"You're injured," she said, voicing the obvious. "Madame Floquet, might you?"

Her question might have gone longer, but for the brisk intonation from the Medician, "Your group. Your task. You know how to do this." She nudged the kit in front of her with her foot, causing it to slide in Victoria's direction. "I'll let you know when you start to screw up."

Victoria eyed the older lady with mild annoyance, but knelt to pick up the kit. "Come on, BB. Let's get you down in the gazebo and take care of that." Whether or not they used magic to seal the damage, the atypical Necromancer thought it best to remove the glass and assess the damage for other threats beforehand. The process was actually incredibly fast, considering Victoria's only quite recent apprenticeship, but the older Medician had imparted a great deal of wisdom upon her, and she already had more than adequately dexterous hands. At first, she might have thought that him being a Dragonborn might alter the steps that needed to be taken somehow, but wounds were wounds, apparently. Deft movements removed glass and debris, quick packs of clean, fallen snow helped to numb the area and constrict bleeding. Victoria began to smile despite the situation. The satisfying feeling of being useful for things one would not expect of her. The goal in training with Annick (who was watching with approval, giving the occasional nod or monosyllabic sound of approval as her pupil went along to help guide) was to become better versed with anatomy, the purpose being to make her a more effective practitioner of the Necromantic Arts. But this? This was genuinely a good feeling in helping her adventuring associate. "Alright, you look good. Everything has been cleared out and it doesn't look like you damaged an important artery. But this... I recognize a couple of those injuries. Whatever's out there is getting more aggressive."

As it was, Victoria had a ace up her sleeve as it came to healing. Just one simple incantation that could keep the worst of an injury down; certainly enough to stop Baronfjord from getting any worse. And her mundane healing skills she had been studying. "I have some healing magic, Baronfjord, if you would prefer it to stitching. Though I believe that Kosara has far superior magic for knitting wounds than I."

The arrival of Laurent, nor Baronfjord's words of concern for his safety moved Victoria much. Maybe it should have, as honestly, he had no overt way of knowing that there was something dangerous going on this night, but this didn't seem to register in her thoughts, and certainly not in her actions. Instead, she chose to ignore his presence unless he decided to become a threat. Lizbeth, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to go to war. Nervous maybe, but weapons ready and without hint of retreat. Like herself, Lizbeth was a student. Unlike herself, practicing her craft in the middle of her training could very well get her killed. "Lizbeth, respectfully? You should stick close to us for a while, else keep to the main house. Whatever is happening here - it has escalated."

This was Annick's cue to gather herself together and make a solo exit. "Yeah. It has. I have a daughter to get back to. Keep the kit; you might need it. Oh, Miss Belmont?" She paused for a moment, making sure that she held her pupil's attention, "I will not accept an undead uprising as an excuse for your absence. Training continues as planned." She turned and began to stalk off into the darkness. It was step for step at first, but soon the older woman began moving at a slight crouch, faster and more smoothly than a woman of her years might have comfortably, until she fully faded into the night.

“Huh, the more you know.” Kosara mused to herself after unsummoning the little rat. The adorable critter that for whatever reason was way more adorable than his more common cousins, stuffed himself with as much cheese as it could and when the magic took effect, whisking him away back to wherever he came from, whatever was rest simply fell on the ground. This meant that for whatever reason the magic that would move Chauncey across the world… or worlds, Kosara had no idea where the rat actually comes from, was arbitrary deciding that the cheese the rat stuffed in it’s mouth was alright to bring along, but the one it held in it’s lil paws wasn’t. A truly marvelous revelation that for lesser individual would crush their hopes for certain schenanigans. For Kosara it just meant she had to feed it well and perform more experiments later. What if she tied a tiny little ribbon on one of the paws? Would it teleport with Chauncey as if it’s considered part of him or would it be left behind like the cheese? Truly questions for the ages, one that must be extrapolated and experimented on.

Lizbeth’s question about Berry’s location was well timed and on point as she had barely uttered the sentence when the blue dragonborn’s voice filled the nightly air and he stumbled towards from the darkness. He was beat up! Who dared! Sneaky winter goblins?! Wait no… maybe it was the weird undead that for whatever reason seemed to be prowling the area. There was something seriously strange going.” There he is!” Kosara happily exclaimed as she got closer and studied the injuries on the Berry.” As well as things could be I guess...” She added, making a hard thinking face. In any case, her eyes drew back on Berry when he spoke of the guest. So there was indeed dangers abound, that wasn’t good.

While V was busy cleaning the wound on the dragonborn with honestly impressive elegance, Kosara was busy starring out into the darkness beyond her Light. The ability to throw light around and push back the darkness was a bit of a two edged sword in some ways. For example while you were in light darksight was hindered, but she liked light. She did grow up in a desert after all, one would be hard to survive in such an enviroment if you didn’t like the sun and while you had to seek shelter from it in the sands, she did like it. It made the sea of sand shine like gold sometimes.

Once the bard was done with the wound, Kosara was quickly next in line to practically slam into the Berry. Alright she didn’t slam at him, but she did bolt next to him with her unusual eagerness as her arm shot forward, golden motes of light gathering as she began applying the Celestial energies she channeled from her Grandpa into his injuries to heal them. When she took a deep breath and the golden motes vanished, she looked at his form and blinked.” Wow… those are some grave injuries if they still persist!”

Kathryn had won the game. What game it was she couldn't be totally sure. But she had won! She got to drink, to dance, had turned foes into friends, and gotten to show off just how strong and fun she was. So yes, a win. "Monsieur Laurent I meant no ill intent, my apologies for the treatment. I thought we were having a jolly good time!" Kathryn exclaimed, but did try to pass on her apologies as best she could. Monsieur Laurent was a victim of chance and determination. Kathryn needed to slow down anyone going into the tasting room, and he was most persistent on going. He must be danced with. There was no choice! Kathryn did briefly tense, her smile erked hearing Monsieur Laurent call Kosara a pet. For a lot of people, that would end with getting knocked out. But that could be all the wine talking. And she had to remind herself that his words didn't mean that much to her anyways. She was pretty sure all those bridges got burnt anyways. Shame really... She would have really loved to establish herself with lands and power.

To her surprise, the bridges may have been burnt, but somehow at least one bridge still stood. Just one. A final chance to make things work. "Tarace Mosswater, You are a miracle worker with skills I could never hope to replicate. Thank you so much for your intervention." Kathryn spoke warmly to the halfling. She had no idea how he pulled off such a feat, but she was very impressed none the less. Tea, next week. She would need to prepare and study up. He was a traditionalist, so she may not be able to go in her armor. Should she bring Lizbeth? She was the closest to a squire she had. Maybe a page. But she was mainly learning to fight, not other noble duties. She'd ask Lizbeth how she felt about it. But it would also be a learning experience for Kathryn too.

Turning to Cecily Kathryn spoke up with a soft tone and a humbling curtsy. "My apologies for the night Madam L'Rose. I got carried away with my drink and had falsely assumed a pleasant time for all involved. I shall taper my actions from here. Do let me know if I can make up for these transgressions." Kathryn offered up her apologies in the most humbling tone she could muster. Though she turned a little indifferent to Laurent's night, she still wanted everyone else present to enjoy themselves.

Weather: The increasing winds drag falling snow in a slightly more irregular, diagonal path. The temperature is appears to have dropped some in the intervening minutes noticeably, but not to an extreme amount. This might be a precursor to a chillier time as the evening deepens. Burt for now, the night is tolerable, provided you have all of the blood in your body. Another spot of positive news; in the places where mortal combat had not been practiced and signs of it break up the continuity and/or color of the gentle snowdrifts, it's still quite picturesque.

Time: The sky is dark, the moon looms above. If this is daytime, then we have some problems.

Ambience: The exterior of the Winery bore witness to the aftermath of the duel between something unnatural and one of the party. There is a depth of unease surrounding this event, as the implications which may be taken from this event are troubling. In any case, the environment seems to have reasserted itself with the wintry wonderland of hills and snow, quiet except for the wind, apparently untroubled by the rest of the world.

The interior is going through a bit of a wind-down, as just over half of the guests have left the Winery proper. Remaining now are Cecily, Barbal, Tarace, Rens, and Kathryn, with Jon having kept to himself in the Tasting Room, sipping wine and nibbling on fancy bread with little idea as to what is transpiring in the greater setting. Throughout the Winery, and more specifically Storage, nothing of note has changed, except for the people within. It's rather comfortable in here, with nary a hint of echo.



The Medician continued about her way, out of sight of prying eyes as far as she might tell. Having arrived on foot, she removed herself from the drama the same way, utilizing decades-practiced stealth to minimize her interaction with ...well, anything. There was a brief pause and a shake of the head as she came across something not too unexpected, given the circumstances, but still alarming to witness. She observed, and silently made her way back toward Southmoor with a disgusted expression.

Laurent, on the other hand, decided that leaving loudly was his best option. "I shall not be subject to this tomfoolery any longer!" he declared to Baronfjord with raised voice. "I do not answer to you, nor anyone else here. Now I tire of this, and I will be off. Good evening." The last two words were presented with as much bile as one might when wishing a good evening, and Monsieur Laurent stomped off in the direction of the stables. It might be said that he was ever-so-slightly shaky in the application of his footsteps on his way to the outbuilding, but his horse was surer footed than he upon his egress. Even this was short-lived as, when passing by something which might have upset him greatly, a talented listener might have heard a shouted bit of unseemly profanity in an undignified, higher pitch, and retching noises coming from up the road.

Lizbeth, apparently ready for battle despite having had no experience with it whatsoever, did not hesitate to look relieved when the immediate possibility of it relented. She nestled the whole of her newly acquired weapon into its sheath, but kept a hand near to its hilt. Lizbeth looked nervous. Her response was noncommittal yet concerned. "I ...I want to stay close to all of you, but I'm worried about my aunt, too. Maybe we can figure something out?" Unlike the others, she made no move to leave.

Back indoors, Barbal laughed heartily and shook his head. Halflings were known to be people who appreciated creature comforts as well as outsmarting particularly annoying Big Folk, and the most recent events appeared to check off all of the boxes in these regards. "Ah, I've been waiting for someone to show up that blowhard - the Human thinks that because he inherited some land, he's better than the common folk. Fellow like that needs to taken out for a spin once in a while, eh?" He nudged Tarace with his elbow and exploded into more gales of laughter.

Tarace, on the other hand, held a perplexed look. When Kathryn mentioned miracles, he was set on shaking his head to the negative. "I didn't do anything. Really. He, um... he started talking before I did. I think, ah, and don't quote me on this, but... I think he didn't mind the manhandling. I don't know. He asked me to pass along the message and I said yes. Maybe he has an angle?" The softer-spoken Halfling shrugged, fully lost in what just happened.

Barbal stopped whooping in laughter for a moment, long enough to suggest, "I don't know if we can top this one tonight. How about we have one more drink and call it for the night, Madame Cecily? Unless you have another surprise for us? How 'bout you, Master Rens?"

The Master of Wine kept quiet, merely shaking his head and wetting his whistle with a long sip of fine grape fermentation. Cecily, on the other hand, managed to shake herself out of her situationally induced shock and respond to everyone in one burst. "Oh, Kathryn, think nothing of it. We will be talking about this Honigblume Tasting for a long time yet. Very long time. And no one got hurt, right? Yet still, I think that I agree with Monsieur Mosswater. Let us toast our evening and good fortune, and I shall have domestic staff handle everything else in the morning. Oh, be feel free to take whatever you need from the Tasting Room; there is nothing wrong with a bite in the small hours." She waved everyone in the direction of the Tasting Room, intoning, "But it is a shame that Toombes couldn't make it tonight. He loves these events. Hmm. Oh, might someone please fetch our remaining guests?" Her words and actions pointed toward the obvious conclusion that she was completely unaware of the actions just occurring outside.

Meanwhile, outside, the only sounds across the snow covered hills of the Rose River Vineyard are those of gusting wind, and the creak of swinging lanterns.

With only some minor protest, Blackberry let himself be lead to the Gazebo. His anxiety was still running high and he kept looking around frantically for any sign of struggle. The others looked more concerned for his well being than his own, and he was relieved to see that none of them looked harmed, but still somewhat on edge understandably.

"Please. But do be quick about it Victoria. I worry things may continue to escalate if we do not act soon. But what of the rest of you?" He asked as he sat down, and untied some of his robes so Victoria could work. "Have all things bee-ah! Gods! Warn a fellow before you start prodding about his person! Sorry, yes, do continue. But please do tell me that all is well here? And what of Lady Kathryn? Jon, and the others? Has anything befallen them?"

As he spoke, his eyes kept drifting down to where Victoria deftly worked to remove various debris from the wounds. Upon seeing the long, vicious stem of the wine glass glistening he almost turned an impressive shade of turquoise. The application of snow to the wound of course drew the expected noises 'oh good lord that is cold' while he barely managed to control his shivering.

"Magic, if you must but please be quick." He was already up and moving back towards the path while hurriedly retying his robes as best he could. "Where did Madame Floquet go? Oh blast! She already went. We simply do not have time to waste any further. Ah, thank you Kosara. Lizbeth I insist you stay here until we send word back. Please go and fetch Lady Kathryn and your Aunt immediately, tell them we shall meet up the road and that..." He paused and he turned his head back towards the darkness.

BlackBerry swore.

"Kosara, Victoria, follow me please."

He took off again without even waiting for the others to respond. Once again he ran along the path, through the pools of lantern light, now faster and with surer footing without pain impeding him. He could see the a horse standing within the light by the Meeting Spots lantern and its rider bent almost double in the saddle, BlackBerry's heart jumped at the sight, a . Sounds of retching now carried to him through the falling snow.

"Monsieur Laurant! Monsieur Laurant!" BlackBerry put on another burst of speed over the last several meters to the hunched figure. He came to a skidding stop, putting himself between the rider and the dispatched skeletal corpse in the snow. "Monsieur Laurant. Are you hurt?"

The monk held his attention squarely on the skeletal corpse, watching and waiting for it to move, to get up from the gathering blanket of snow slowly consuming it. But it didn't. The headless skeletal corpse remained comfortably inert in the snow. Another retch and sound of something wet hitting the ground drew BlackBerry's attention away, and to Monsieur Laurant losing the last of his wine and cheese over his horses saddle.

"Monsieur Laurant?" BlackBerry began quietly and carefully, but the next comment would not stay put without an annoyed sigh. "I had requested that you stay put." He paused and took a breath which shook from the cold. A momentary glance back down towards the Winery in the hopes of seeing either Victoria and Kosara on his heels only confirmed that for now he would have to deal with the situation on his own. Reaching up to Monsieur Laurant, BlackBerry then gently patted the mans leg while avoiding the dripping vomit. He then loosely took hold of the reins so that Laurant could easily pull them back of he wished, hoping this wouldn't scare or frightened the man.

"Come now. Let us move from this place. Are you well enough to ride or shall I guide you? I am sorry you had to see this."

Victoria did try her best not to get blood on her nice, new finery. Some of the pieces she was wearing were scavenged from the envoy of dead people and were incalculable of age, yes, but it was excellent material and she had just acquired it. Plus, the vain-conscious Bard looked damned good in liberated silks and cashmere. In fact, Victoria might even go so far as to say that the black and gold pashmina shawl was her favorite article of clothing, surprisingly containing absolutely no purple coloring whatsoever. It would be a shame and a pity for her to damage such lovely fabrics in the mundane but necessary pursuit of healing her adventuring associate. But she would, as one does, were it necessary.

Luckily, it was only a bit of sanguine liquid make its way to her clothing, which was easily cleared away (even in the midst of an emergency) by a quick casting of Prestidigitation; the spell taught to apprentices and novices of the magical world as the basic dweomercraft to harness the least powerful but ultimately most versatile expressions of magic - and the one she wound up using vastly more than any other in her repertoire. It made the inconvenience of bloodstains trivial.

Her appearance righted to her satisfaction, Victoria took to heart the words stated by her wintertime mentor, Annick, with a sense of sarcastic derision. Then again, if anyone did have an inclination to not accept a full uprising of the living dead as an excuse to miss training, it would be her. The older woman's sudden disappearance directly thereafter surprised even the magic-using Half-Elf with her fluid transition from "now you see me" to a most decided and deliberate "now you frigging don't." As far as she knew, Medician Floquet was completely mundane - that is to say, not a drop of realized magic within her ability to manipulate. Still, impressive.

The exit of Monsieur Laurent was far less impressive. If he wanted to go out there and get himself chewed to pieces by ravenous, bloodthirsty powers which lurked in the darkness, that was his problem and his responsibility. Victoria was not his keeper. And he was very rude to her fellow adventurers, even after they cleared his fields of Ankhegs. His wobbly gait was no concern of hers, though she did feel a little better that his horse was sure-footed. All in all, good riddance.

Speaking to one being steady on their feet, Victoria was glad to see that Baronfjord was up and moving with his former grace and fluidity. She was not expecting for him to want to go back to the spot where his injuries took place quite so quickly. If the threat remained, which she doubted because of Baronfjord's uncontested presence here, at least he would return with some magical backup. Before she followed him, Victoria turned back to Lizbeth. "I agree. You should go to your aunt." Then she had to readdress what she just heard Baronfjord say. He wanted Lizbeth to bring them up to the road? Much as she didn't want to rick the girl's safety, Victoria hoped that he had a profound, useful purpose in bringing them out in a potentially dangerous night. "Lizbeth, dearest?" she began contemplatively, "Take this with you." The Bard's ebon feathered agent swooped down from its elevated position to meet up with its mistress. It landed on her outstretched arm and, by mental command, went to Lizbeth. "Should you need my help, tell it to come fetch me. Yes? Good."

And so, Victoria took off, following Baronfjord back up the way he had come. No Morty, which puzzled her. No Raven, who she still hadn't come up with a suitable name for just yet, and no sword. To add upon the situation, Victoria cursed lightly under her breath as the much speedier Monk seemed like he was already halfway there by the time she took off, running across snow. When she finally caught up at the scene, she was a little winded but intensely curious as to what precisely she was looking at. Aside from the vomit, and the haughty Human on horseback.