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[h2][color=darkorchid][i][b]Victoria Belmont[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=9932cc]Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5[/color][/b][/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 33 / 33	[color=9932cc][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 16	[color=9932cc][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Rose River Vineyard (Main Thoroughfare)
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Spellcasting [i](Prestidigitation)[/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] [i][color=dimgray]Familiar Stuff[/color][/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/84xS62pB/Victoria-Alt-7-ss.png[/img][/right]
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	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 [i]the[/i] 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 [i]"now you see me"[/i] to a most decided and deliberate [i]"now you frigging don't."[/i] 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 [i]was[/i] 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. [color=9932cc]"I agree. You should go to your aunt."[/color] 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. [color=9932cc]"Lizbeth, dearest?"[/color] she began contemplatively, [color=9932cc]"Take this with you."[/color] 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. [color=9932cc]"Should you need my help, tell it to come fetch me. Yes? Good."[/color]

	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.