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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] Southmoor (Healer's Home) -> Coach House
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Ritual Magic: [i](Phantom Steed)[/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] [color=dimgray][i][b]Familiar[/b][/i][/color] stuff, [color=black][b]Morty[/b][/color]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/ZzgLdXRt/Victoria-Alt-8-ss2.png[/img][/right]
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	It did take a few minutes for Victoria to bring her [i]Phantom Steed[/i], regardless of the sudden burst of inspiration which caused her to exit the Medician's cottage with the resolute determination that she displayed. She paused for long enough to open her Ritual Book to the appropriate pages and fix the image of her preferred beast of personal conveyance: swift, sure, noble, and just intimidating enough to send the right message of thematic awe in those who saw it. A tall, bone white stallion with oil-black socks and matching mane which floated through the air as if underwater, and eyes which reflected light with a spectral, purple hue. A horse in the most outside sense; a spiritform made into something akin to flesh through magic and directed imagination. Victoria possessed a decent amount of both and was only growing stronger in the use of them with time. Thusly, the steed began to manifest in front of Annick's home, by the will of the purple-clad Bard. 

	Her Familiar, the wondrous black corvid, gave a croaking caw from up ahead, giving an indication of its presence. Another spirit made to flesh and feathers, linked to the will and desires of its mistress. It alerted Victoria to the presence of something coming up from behind her. Pausing the spellwork for just a moment, she glanced back to see Annick and her daughter Annabelle emerging from their home, the former carrying two books in a leather reinforced sling bag and the latter staying near to the building. The Medician approached and held out the books to Victoria, mentioning something about [color=darkgray][b]"...homework. You might as well take it with you and finish when you find an opportunity."[/b][/color]. Victoria nodded, not wishing to put too much of a strain on the ritual she was performing but acquiescing to her proposal. 

	[color=darkgray]"Do you have to be still to ritual cast magic?"[/color] inquired Annabelle, from the house's front deck. It greatly annoyed Victoria - for about two seconds. Then she began to ponder the question. Technically, she didn't read anything about needing to go through the whole rigamarole of symbolic, sympathetic, or circle-drawing procedures aside from what the spell itself might need to cast, and so, the Bard stood a bit straighter and began to walk. She could still feel the slower buildup of power that indicated the spell's continued progress, and so took step after step in the vague direction of the Vineyard. With a broad smile, Victoria turned and gave the younger Floquet a wave. She settled the sling bag about her person along with her knapsack, and started to negotiate the last parts of the spell into place. Her pace quickened as the Phantom Steed began to materialize next to her, coalescing from somber threads of arcane energy at a trot. Without breaking pace, Victoria pulled herself into the saddle and took up the great beast's reins, prompting her steed to a pace which no ordinary horse could hope to match. Despite the need for expedience and the serious nature of their situation, the she found this positively exhilarating. Luckily, the streets of the town of Southmoor were mostly clear. 

	Those viewing the rush of motion from a side angle might be greeted by a purple blur with fiery hair atop a creature, potentially of myth, zooming by and leaving a wind wake which twirled paper goods in its passing. 

	Coming through Southmoor proper, Victoria took note of Kosara heading toward whatever piece of investigation has piqued her interest. The shorter silhouette with her was not recognized, and while her curiosity might have led her to stop and ask a few questions about her new "friend", Victoria kept the urgency of her present obsession at the mental fore. She did bring her Steed to a quick stop to relate her position to her teammate, however, before she got to wherever she was going. [color=9932cc]"Kosara! I'm glad I caught you."[/color] She reached into a pocket and dug out the oddly shaped [i]Sending Stone[/i], giving it a quick toss to the Tiefling lady. [color=9932cc]"If you would, please keep hold of this for me. I am returning to the Coach House for..."[/color] Her attention went briefly to Daxos, unsure as to what might or might not be safe to discuss around the stranger. [color=9932cc]"...well, I believe I have figured something out. I may be onto something, at the least. [i]I will see you there later.[/i]"[/color] It was less of a declarative sentence and more a statement showing that she was expected there eventually, as a precursor or gentle warning to the unknown Dwarf fellow at her side. But there was no reason to be overtly rude to the guy; a greeting was the polite thing to do. [color=9932cc]"And good morning to you, Master Dwarf!"[/color] she said with a touch of embellishment, sweeping her hand to one side as she took what amounted to a bow from horseback. [color=9932cc]"Please excuse my abruptness. There is work to be done and haste is an issue."[/color] She smiled as she straightened, taking her reins back up. [color=9932cc]"By your leave, of course. And Kosara? I await whatever you may find out. Keep yourself safe."[/color] 

	Under arcane command and twitch of the reins, Victoria's Phantom Steed took off like a bolt from a ballista, hammering forward momentum from the ground beneath it. The cry of her raven soaring overhead could be heard as it followed, only to fade from existence mid-flight and reappear at a point ahead of the swiftly egressing Bard. 

	It was a very short time later that Victoria found herself dismounting within the courtyard of the Coach House, having sped at breakneck pace up the road from Southmoor and ignoring issues that a flesh and blood horse might have to deal with. She didn't think that she would need the use of a speedy ride within the next few minutes, but opted not to dismiss the animal [i]just in case[/i]. It would naturally come to a cessation after a little while, anyway. So Victoria strode up to the main door into the taproom and carefully made her way inside. She set her knapsack and borrowed sling bag upon a nearby table, and issued a mental command to her preserved porcine beast of burden, Morty, to approach. Unfailing loyalty coming from the gaunt creature (as it had no say in the matter, itself) brought it closer, long enough for its Mistress to note that nothing seemed to have changed about itself or its surroundings. It returned to its place by the wall, and Victoria called out, [color=9932cc]"Hello? Is anyone here?"[/color] If someone had checked in at the same time she did, they might trade notes. Otherwise, she would know that it was clear to check her new suspicions/hypotheses against the her written works with her gear, now that she had a better idea what to look for.