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

	[u]Ambience[/u]: 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.         

[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] 
[img][/img]	
	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 [i]his[/i] best option. [color=darkgray]"I shall not be subject to this tomfoolery any longer!"[/color] he declared to Baronfjord with raised voice. [color=darkgray]"I do not answer to [i]you[/i], nor anyone else here. Now I tire of this, and I will be off. [i]Good evening[/i]."[/color] 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. [color=darkgray]"I ...I want to stay close to all of you, but I'm worried about my aunt, too. Maybe we can figure something out?"[/color] 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. [color=darkgray][b]"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?"[/b][/color] 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. [color=darkgray]"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?"[/color] The softer-spoken Halfling shrugged, fully lost in what just happened. 

	Barbal stopped whooping in laughter for a moment, long enough to suggest, [color=darkgray][b]"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?"[/b][/color] 

	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. [color=darkgray][i]"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."[/i][/color] She waved everyone in the direction of the Tasting Room, intoning, [color=darkgray][i]"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?"[/i][/color] 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.