[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/WvZTwJ26/winter-vineyard.jpg[/img][/center]
[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/vXD6Q0t/Update-Text.png[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center]
[center][hider=Coach House][img]https://i.ibb.co/5jfBrYW/Coach-House-Opener.jpg[/img][/hider][/center]
[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center]


	[u]Weather[/u]: Little has changed with the weather in the last span of time. The sky is still skying, still maintaining that more-or-less equal coverage of puffy white and clear blue, the sun making its occasional appearance with the shifting cloud cover. While there is no additional snow falling, there is still a considerable amount of the scenic, frozen stuff; the ground is still covered except for extremely high traffic areas, and even then it is in slender wheel ruts and packed footsteps. The wind is still a force to be reckoned with, by its damp chill far more than the strength of its gusts. If one bundles against this wind and doesn't mind the cold, it's actually quite nice out.   

   	[u]Time[/u]: It is past noon, but not quite meandering into what one may call a proper "afternoon," in the nomenclature of the area. The sun is still high and the day is bright.     

	[u]Ambience[/u]: The built up hearths and benefits of time, plus movement of its occupants have given the Coach House a genuinely comforting feel. No longer subject to the whims of whomever opens the door (so long as they don't hold the damned thing open), the main rooms of the building provide ample respite from the elements. While the light from the main fire does well to provide flickering, dim light overall, supplemented by a lamp with burning grapeseed oil on a nearby table, which was stacked with a small array of papers and a trio of books. 

	Overall, the taproom is the very image of a smallish but respectable Inn. It is furnished with Its stock of potables is primarily local wine, albeit with a few notable exceptions, including a mostly full cask of quite-probably-not-cursed brandy and a somewhat less full cask of ale, side by side on the bar. 

	The cellar remains as cellars do, surrounded by stone-layered earth and structural supports, colder than the areas of the building intended for regular habitation. This is doubly so in the winter, which in a stunning bit of coincidence, it happens to be. Breath condenses into short-lived mist, for those capable of seeing it in the relative darkness. The room is well stocked with edible goods, separate from one another and lifted off of the ground, all neatly shelved. Or hanging. Or crated, bagged, jarred, in whatever method best preserved the items within. Barrels, clearly marked with the Rose River Vineyard brand, also rest here untapped. 	
  
[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] 
[img][/img]	
	The shelving in the Cellar which contained the various prybars (forked and otherwise), opening tools, things for tapping, and more elaborate methods of food and product preparation has borne fruit, resembling a stationary puzzle box with presently unrecognized runes around the woodcut images of a mushroom on each of its faces. It presently stands open, empty but with with two in-line vertical slots recessed in the back, as if they held specific purpose.   

	[color=darkgray]"But,"[/color] started Lizbeth, [color=darkgray]"what if I don't like necromancy?"[/color] Her voice had an amount of relief from Victoria's assurances but just enough petulance to remind one that she was technically still a child, by the standards of her culture. The idea that she might get a little in the way of magical training - or at least a better understanding of who and what she was from someone better learned than herself - seemed to brighten her spirits. A little. Even if the idea that she could become something potentially monstrous, and occasionally did, hung heavily in her mind. [color=darkgray]"That sounds delightful. When can we start? Oh, might I keep training with Lady Kathryn and Master Urmdrus? Will getting better with ...with magic... make me safer from, well, you know?"[/color] But she did remember the question at hand from Victoria. [color=darkgray]"I don't know exactly, but some things have happened that I can't always explain. I can fix things, like the coat you were wearing when you got shot by that Goblin."[/color] 

	At about this time, Kosara and Daxos entered the building, temporarily bringing the temperature down a little with the outside air. [color=darkgray]"Hi, Mademoiselle Kosara! Yes, Kosara is right. When the Ankheg came for the wagon that Aunt CeeCee and I were on, I made it afraid. I didn't know what else to do. And when we had to keep the grape vines alive overnight, I um, I changed. I don't get tired that way and I feel the cold a [i]lot[/i] less. But I [i]never[/i] did that while I was training with Lady Kathryn, I promise! That would be cheating. Oh! Once, a whole coop of chickens I was visiting fell asleep. All at the same time! I'm not sure what that means."[/color] Lizbeth nodded gravely. Her features were still that of the freshly deceased. 

	She noted Daxos and spoke with almost cheerful but ever polite notes, [color=darkgray]"You must be Master Urmdrus's new helper! It's nice to meet you, monsieur. I am Lizbeth L'Rose - Cecily L'Rose is my aunt and guardian. Have you spoken with her yet?"[/color] Cecily, of course, being the lady presently in charge of the Rose River Vineyard. 

	Seamlessly, she went back to Victoria's question, intoning quietly, [color=darkgray]"One time I got really scared one night - and then no one could see me. It only happened that once and I haven't been able to do it again since."[/color]