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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] Coach House
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Skill Check: [i](Arcana)[/i], Research 
[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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	[color=9932cc]"In the sarcophagus..."[/color] mused Victoria. Her eyes widened, reflecting the muted green pallor of the lightly glowing stone in which she was so engrossed. Her eyes darted back to Kathryn with the question about the dreams, but her voice seemed distant, quite preoccupied really, as she answered, [color=9932cc]"No... No, I didn't learn anything useful about the dreams. It's probably symptomatic of something, but I still don't know why..."[/color] The Bard's attention went back to the stairs, and her steps followed said attention back to the taproom. [color=9932cc]"I'll have this back to you, if you still need it. Okay, Kat?"[/color] This last bit was significantly more personable and focused; even delivered with a beaming expression. She was swiftly coming back into her element. At least, the one which didn't involve song. 

	It wasn't long until Victoria had taken up a significant portion of one of the tables in the taproom, books and notations on standby. She had procured for herself an oil lamp and thrown a couple more aromatic logs on the fire, and while the rest of the group took to their searches, the Bard abstained in favor of her research. She had taken a bit of time to brew a pot of tea for herself, flavored with dried pear peel and just a hint of that [i]lovely[/i] brandy, but otherwise continued writing her notes and checking her books. There were even moments when she used her Morty as a footstool. Morty was quite the useful thrall, she reasoned to herself with a light smile. The primary text of her work was her copy of [i]The Lucky Ghost[/i], but many of her own songs and interment etchings provided scraps of useful information. She spent the majority of her time writing down facts of what she knew of this entity who called itself "Prince", and used these to narrow her search down. But it wasn't until Lizbeth and Baronfjord came back with her copy of [i]The White Book[/i] that a pivotal piece clicked together for her. 

	Unfortunately, this happened at the same time that Lizbeth read the letter from her grandfather and had her own breakdown. Victoria was not a particularly wise individual in the ways of Human psychology, but she could read a room. A more morally inclined person might have moved to comfort the young woman in this time, but being honest with herself, this was not a thing which Victoria had been accused of with any regularity. Instead, she penned her final thoughts on her research on a clean bit of paper and put it to the side for the time being. Then she waited for her opportunity. 

	The opportunity came when Lizbeth rose from her chair. She looked quite dead, to put it bluntly, after getting so much emotion out of her slender frame. Curiosity got the better of her when she went into the cellar again, upon which the purple-clad Bard stalked over to Lizbeth's table and skimmed the letter from the late Monsieur L'Rose - the man whose scorched finger bone still lay in a pouch on her belt - and took in the words. Then something else clicked for her. [color=9932cc]"Lizbeth!"[/color] she called, moving to follow the girl to the stairs. If she was openly displaying the arcane things she was capable of doing, then there was no reason for Victoria to keep the secret anymore, either. [color=9932cc]"My dear, sweet Lizbeth, please listen."[/color] Her eyes met the half-alive girl with focused intensity as she asked, [color=9932cc]"When you were first able to do these things, did it come all at once, or was it a trickle? Like, slowly over time, and you had to practice some things before you could do them well? Please tell me."[/color]

	Lizbeth's confirmation that things did indeed take a while for her to grow into - years, actually, seemed to delight Victoria visibly. The darkness around the Bard's eyes deepened and the black tear streaks returned as she spoke, keeping it clear and easy to understand. [color=9932cc]"The green stone, the flavor of your grapes, the reason you needed to get your grandfather off of the land after he died, all of it has a reason. It's the same reason that you are..."[/color] she gestured, as if to conjure up the words, [color=9932cc]"...the way you are, Lizbeth. Your grandfather didn't sell you into anything, dearest child. But I think the Prince was waiting for you to, well, to happen."[/color] The smile returned. [color=9932cc]"This isn't anything to fix, I promise. You have been touched by magic since before your birth, and it has become part of you. With the proper training, you may become a powerful Sorcerer one day. Your power is [i]yours[/i], and it will respond to [i]you[/i] if you embrace it."[/color] 

	Though she was smiling, what she learned of this [i]Farid al Ramil Sabaj al Hazred[/i], Prince of the Southern Sands, had her significantly worried. But she would deal with that after the kid got something akin to momentary closure about her family's horrifying, multi-generational mistakes. Arnaud L'Rose was not a good man, from the look of things, but at least he didn't sell out his only surviving family to some undead abomination calling itself royalty. [color=9932cc]"We can address the Prince in a moment. Right now, let's find Arnaud's second study. It looks like he left you something inside. Okay? We can talk about your magic a little later, promise. In depth."[/color]