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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 (Roof) -> Coach House (Random) 
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Spellcasting [i](Healing Word, Prestidigitation)[/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] Ow.
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/ZzgLdXRt/Victoria-Alt-8-ss2.png[/img][/right]
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	Victoria felt a curious weightless sensation. It was coupled by the rushing whistle of air past her charmingly pointed ears, and an inexplicable lack of knowledge as to exactly how she found herself in this position; supine, aerial, and traveling downward at an impressive rate of speed. It occurred to Victoria that, logically, the fight-or-flight clarity that come with being put into a life-threatening situation like this was slowing time for her, and this was probably the reason for the confusing dilation of thought which kept her in the present. It also meant that, barring some sort of miraculous intervention, she was going to impact onto the hard packed ground and ice-pressed snow below. If she survived, this was going to hurt. 

	The last, frantic element of her rational thought flung out to her thrall, Morty, who trotted as fast as it might toward the front door of the Coach House. Morty wouldn't make it in time, obviously, nor could the poor dead creature hope to open the door without a relatively generous investment of its time to the task. But maybe the smoky, tusked boar might be able to point people in her direction, were she to lose consciousness - or worse. Past that final mental command, Victoria couldn't help but to let out a scream of self-preservative terror as she descended the last half of her fall, set to impact in the area between the stairs and the front door to the Taproom. 

	This scream was cut short, as one might expect. But Victoria did not hit ice, as expected. Just before the fall terminated, Victoria's world shifted again. Relative warmth and darkness engulfed her as she made solid connection with a horizontal plane of fitted hardwood planks, at the exact velocity which she would have hit the ground outside. The dramatic [i]thud[/i] carried far within the timbers of the Coach House. Pain lanced across Victoria's whole body and her vision registered a bare instant of encompassing white, followed by darkness. It was maybe a second or two that consciousness came flooding back, and with it, the physical effects of the impact could be felt. Deeper red rimmed her lips and flew from her mouth in coughing droplets, forcing a single convulsion from her body. She was alive.

	Victoria's eyes shot wide as she frantically lifted herself onto her side. Priorities shifted, and for the Bard, that meant a desperate scramble to open her violin case. A genuine sigh of relief shakily passed from her lungs, which might or might not have been punctured in her brush with misadventure. [color=9932cc]"It's safe,"[/color] she breathed. [color=9932cc]"It's safe... good. Very good."[/color] The jolt was enough to get her to pay closer attention to her surroundings. Fireplace, down to embers. Chairs. A large bed. [color=9932cc]"...I do hope I didn't get too much blood on Kathryn's floor,"[/color] she mused, trying not to laugh. Victoria steadied herself and dipped into some of her finite magical reserves, whispering melodic notes which drew upon the arcana of life forces, a glance at the other side of the coin from which she drew her more signature abilities. Life and death, the unlife which existed within the innumerable shades of grey between, these were all part of the same symphony, from which Victoria sampled but a small part. Her whisper grew stronger as she continued, bolder even, as the magic took effect. Fractures mended. Punctures closed. Victoria found herself made whole. Whole, and significantly more annoyed than usual. 

	Careful steps brought Victoria out of the upper floor, and onto the stairs which she descended with the utmost of care. Along the way, she straightened out her clothes as best she could with her hands and a liberal helping of [i]Prestidigitation[/i]. When she entered the Taproom, she had the visible effects of her channeling magic upon her face; the darkness which surrounded her eyes like delicate cosmetics and spilled down her cheeks as melancholic tears. A line of blood remained on her face, descending from the corner of her mouth, but otherwise Victoria was just as flawless as ever. 

	It looked like the worst of the effects of the wild magic surge were over, so far as she could tell, and Victoria was anxious to get to business. She saw Lizbeth and Kathryn, and without any mention of the obvious events of the past few minutes, she got straight to it. [color=9932cc]"There was magic in that room,"[/color] she announced, gesturing with the wand she was holding onto for the party. [color=9932cc]"I cannot say whether it was active or bound to items, but there is magic in that room. I saw it for a moment before I blinked away."[/color] Then the Bard regarded the state that Lizbeth was in, and and expression on Kathryn's face. Something else transpired here, maybe as harrowing as her little adventure, maybe more. [color=9932cc]"Take some time if you need to collect yourself. Everything will still be there. When you feel up to it, I can show you where I saw the auras."[/color]

	Morty fell in line behind its mistress, taking to her heel with the loyalty that only a mindless thrall could. Victoria absently reached out and pat her undead porcine companion's head. It was time to get back to work.