Despite himself, Blackberry allowed himself to feel vindicated by Victoria's admission of her...earlier inaccuracies but stopped short of actually saying, 'I told you so!', in favour of as infuriating a smile as he could muster with a blocked nose.

"Worry not Lady Kathryn, it is just my cold again from this morning." For emphasis, he blew again into his handkerchief. "I shall be quite well after a hot bath and a very early evening, I should hope anyway."

He trudged back down the stairs after the other three and then hesitantly into the small room beyond. With so many of them now in there it was getting hard to move around one another, let alone the strange glyphs and symbols etched into the floor which Kosara had warned them all against.

"Three cells and yet only one Guest." Blackberry noted aloud with some grim disgust. "Currently, anyway." He grimaced when the thought slipped out.

While the others were discussing the magical nature of the study's contents, Blackberry was more drawn to the more mundane looking books sitting on the shelf, on the wall opposite. After stepping around the suspicious symbol to reach them he cast an investigative eye over each of the worn and weathered spines hoping for one of the to jump out at him in the dim light. When none did he plucked the nearest one, turned it over, and gave it a shake, and then opened it roughly midway to skim the pages. Nothing of what little he could actually read in such dim light came to him as suspicious or of any interest, and he moved onto the next book.

Blackberry was hoping for two things; 1, the 'final gift' to Lizbeth Master Arnaurd had mentioned in his letter, and 2, some note of what exactly Arnaurd had offered and been offered in his deal with the Prince. what BlackBerry saw while flickering through pages were diagrams, numbers, and writings varying from well thought out and organised paragraphs, to the frantic scribbles and thoughts scurrying over one another. Frustratingly though there was little to be gleamed from the books, not even a sentence of That Language appeared to be lurking within the shadows of pages.

The sound of metal striking stone made him jump, he turned to see Lady Kathryn picking a hand axe out of the magic circle though thankfully without any apparent harm.

"Daxos is right." BlackBerry snapped the book closed but kept a hold of it "Let us take stock of the immediate situation before we go any further. Master Arnaurd L'Rose was fearful of The Prince and unfortunately with good reason as we have seen. I do wonder though if The Prince had in fact been teaching Master L'Rose some magic or if the man had been trying of his own initiative. Possibly a combination of the two now that I give it some thought." BlackBerry opened the book in hand again but it still withheld any secrets it might have had. His gaze settled again on the shelf and the many books still covered in dirt and dust from years of forgotten neglect. "I wonder if it is of any use searching these books for any hidden meaning or cipher."

"Three cells, one Guest, several books of notes, a desk with restraints, some crates, and finally a strange arcane circle." Blackberry listed off everything he could see at that moment hoping for some idea to break through the headache that wound around his skull. Aside from all they could see the room appeared empty little storage to speak of. "Perhaps the gift, Master L'Rose wrote of is not a particular item?" He indicated with his chin toward the Guest locked in its cell.

Weather: All of that interesting "weather" stuff is happening outside, while everyone is in the cool underground of the cellar and/or the hidden study, but were one to be milling about out-of-doors, they would see a partly sunny but still quite brisk winter day. Whiteness is everywhere, even if icicles drip and trod upon areas begin to slush a bit. The new, fresh look of the snow is fading to the more common appearance of a landscape under seige of the last rays of a weakened sun.

Time: Still but the afternoon. Not early afternoon anymore, but passing no further in the day. The sun is still high.

Ambience: Still cool, but not painfully so (as one might expect from the wind outside) temperatures reign within the cellar and attached, quite secret room which probably had no right to be referred to as a "Study," though it had, unfortunately, picked up that particular nom de guerre. The center of this study floor bore the slightly glowing, red marks of what appeared to be a magic circle, not quite enough illumination to cast a shadow but enough to be noticeable. Otherwise, the only light in this place is that which one brings in with them.

The only obvious entrance and/or egress to the room stands fully open, its door removed from its very moorings into the stone, revealing the short hallway beyond and the open secret shelf door leading to the cellar proper.

The furnishings of the room are simple, aside from the odd magical circle; desk, table, cells, crates. The implications of these furnishings are slightly more complicated, however, as one of the cells contained what appeared to be a corpse in a sitting fetal position, the table bore restraints that probably weren't recreational, the crates poorly hid a secret cache within a secret room, and the desk... well, we'll see. A short bookshelf to one side carried probably the more interesting, or at least potentially revealing, of items, unless one counts the dead fellow in the cell.




Lizbeth followed the Bard, or more specifically, the Bard's thrall, back down into the cellar and the secret room beyond. There seemed to be a flurry of activity now, with people checking here and there, a brief flash of light and crackle preceding a mild curse by Baronfjord. This did give her a startle, despite her determination to be as rugged and serious as possible in this trying moment, likely to offset her emotional outburst from earlier. She might not have admitted it, though. In the same way, Lizbeth refused to make any mention of the strange magic that crackled from Kathryn to herself, past the initial vocalization of shock and concern. No ma'am, the wine heiress was a stoic bastion of strength - she hoped. Regardless, Lizbeth's features maintained their vital luster, making it easier to tell her true depth of emotion. She had not slipped back into the pallor of the unliving.

Entering the secret room, proper, left her with more questions. This was expected. This was never supposed to be a dilemma that she would be led through with held hand and a blankie. But she did have a group of professional adventurers to do the metaphorical heavy lifting. This was a bigger comfort than she had in a long time. It was a lonely road at first, leaning slowly into power that she didn't understand, and a solid relief that, while this was something she never wanted, it was a thing she had some control over. Knowing she wasn't a monster helped.

While she had no clue that Daxos was doing, as he stood in the room with singular alertness, she was certain that the Dwarf knew what he was doing and resolved not to disturb his efforts. The young lady gave him a sheepish nod and tried to stay out of his way.

Kathryn likewise seemed to busy herself, and far be it for Lizbeth to meddle in her work either, but she did pose a question that manners indicated needed an answer. "No, I don't think it's that, Ser Kathryn. The, um, the 'form' comes sometimes when I'm feeling scared, like I can't control it. But sometimes I make it happen because it's useful. And it's like, everything feels less, you know? I don't get tired, I barely feel the cold. I don't get hungry. I'm not... well, most of my feelings are caught on the inside. The magic thing didn't change anything, not that I can tell." Lizbeth really hoped that the magic zap that Kathryn involuntarily gave her was nothing more than mildly unpleasant, over and done with.

Lizbeth gave rapt notice when Victoria began pulling a flat piece of stone off of the wall. While she wasn't fond of the Half-Elf referring to her grandfather with anything less than the utmost of respect, she did realize that her new friend was the closest thing to an Arcana scholar that they had, and was able to find the hiding space of the small cache readily enough. When Victoria said that the thing she found were probably intended for her, the younger girl reached out an unsteady hand to accept the hollow, crystal-shard pendant.

As soon as she touched it, the bright red liquid within powdered to grey ash, and disappeared from the hollow space entirely. Far from looking used up or depleted, the facets or the crystal seemed to sharpen with hard edges and intense clarity, like it was fresh and new, waiting for something to happen. She marveled over it for a moment before looking back to the wrapped package and long scroll case in Victoria's hands, giving a nod of some understanding before addressing everyone around her. "I'm my grandfather L'Rose's only living heir. Whatever was his is now mine, which includes everything in this room. I mean, it will be, when I turn sixteen." She spoke with a small voice. Trembling, slightly. But Lizbeth maintained an element of bravery with her, seeing as she was a magical neophyte and surrounded by experienced warriors, and insisted on setting terms. "But I am willing to make the same bargain I made with the people in the Estate House study: I'm hiring you to handle whatever is going on here. I don't have money to give right now, but if you find something that can help you, I give permission to use it. We can talk about permanent after. I only ask that you find out what it is and tell me, first. Some of these things," she looked at the now empty crystal shard, "were meant just for me. Is that okay with everybody?" The tremors of fear, excitement, and/or nerves were visible to the casual observer now. If anyone objected, what might she even do to stop them? Being able to pull out a few interesting parlor tricks with the least of magics still put her in the realm of a potentially petulant child in a room full of much more powerful adults.

„This seems alike an experimentation room a bit if you ask me.” Kosara quipped to berry after he pointed out the cages and occupants too. They had table with straps after all. Glowy circle of potential evil not withstanding, it was very clear that Liz’s grandfather was up to some probably not so morally things as of late… or maybe not so as of ‘late’, but as of as of ‘forever’. Especially coupled with the info on the family’s status, history and general records on life and death. Coupled with the letter he had left… well didn’t paint a pretty picture. Could have been worse of course, but there was still time. They hadn’t probably found out all the dirty shirts… because now that she thought about it, the one person who would have known where that hidden distillery room was, was Mr L’Rose… and the place had been covered up with 2 dead folk inside… or near dead folk… but they were definitely mostly dead so quarter alive? Before her head could entirely spiral out into a tangent and distraction, she blinked, slapped her cheeks lightly and refocused back to the task at hand.

She was about to reply to Berry when Liz appeared and in a small voice that made the tiefling want to go over and give her a reassuring hug, expressed he own opinions on the situation. Kosara smiled at the girl.” I don’t need money to help you, the others likely won’t too.” She said with quite the certainty despite not having confirmations from the rest. Of course that was also probably true and certain for varying reasons for each of the party. Each person of the group likely had their own separate reasons to help that wouldn’t be money. One of the big ones being stuck at the locale for the winter and not having much choice in the matter! That however was just a small reason! Kosara suspected that V would be all over it for the magical undeady things, Kathryn would be for bragging rights and peer pressure, Berry, as far as Kosara could theorize, would join for the good of it and Daxos… well she had no idea on him. He was just the newest friend she made and didn’t know him well, but if he wanted to find work here, it was probably a good idea to keep the occupants of the estate alive as to get hired. Very confident in her logical leaps and conclusions, she nodded to herself in assurance.

“Hey, I think that even if we do use something, it’s still yours unless you sell them. Otherwise it would be stealing.” Kosara smiled.” So if I do happen to use anything, I will return it myself after.” She said happily, though truth was that of the party Kosara was the least likely to get into utilizing random heirlooms left for Lizbeth… mostly cause form the looks of it was a lot of scrolls.” Right guys?” She looked at the others, so they too reassure the girl they would be in good behavior! Adventure had rules! These were not after all loot from monsters and they weren’t going to be common thieves!

Kathryn listened intently as BB explained some of his theories and observations. When BB spoke up about how the gift may not be a particular item, Kathryn wondered a bit more what that might mean? "Are you thinking the room as a whole? Maybe the runes in the floor are a ritual to be finished up and that will give us a useful answer?" But with her own testings coming inconclusive and lacking a solid answer, it led to Kathryn with more questions than she could answer. Though some of it was protective magic, Kathryn could be unsure much otherwise. Kosara's comment about how the room seemed like an experimentation room sounded all too likely. It reminded Kathryn of the basement of the town building back in Avonshire. She didn't like that all too much at all.

To her relief Lizbeth had not noticed anything of note when Kathryn had caused her magical energy to jump from herself to her young squire. Kathryn had even learned a bit about how Lizbeth's magic worked. Though she didn't really understand Lizbeths magic, she was pleased to know that Kathryn hadn't accidentally taken that from her. Even if her undead form did unsettle her. "You seem like you are yourself getting a better grasp on how your powers work. I'm glad at least I didn't mess that up for you." Continuing to watch the scene unfold with Victoria removing a stone from the wall, and giving Kathryn a brief thought of "We shall figure out what is going on even if we gotta tear this place down brick by brick." It seemed they were getting closer to that point.

The magic crystal made Kathryn uneasy. She had no basis for it but it made Kathryn think of cursed magic. Dark, evil, corrupting cursed magic. But that could just be because of how it seems to be tied in with all the other creepy stuff so far. Kathryn gave Kosara a reassuring nod in reply to her comment how she didn't need to get paid to want to help Lizbeth. Kathryn would be willing just to help. "We will help you Lizbeth. And we appreciate anything that can help. And, we will respect what is yours as we go along. Be it keeping you informed, passing things along to you, or informing and including you in our actions as we take this step by step." When Kosara gave the reassurance that they would not keep anything they found for themselves without full intentions on returning it, Kathryn spoke of gently but firm. "Kosara is right, we have no intentions of stealing from you. We're on your side." Kathryn ended her statement warmly. A soft smile on her face to help give reassurance.

"Also where did you go when you vanished anyways?" The question hung in Victoria's mind like the knell of a temple gong from far too close. She didn't blame Kosara, not really, but her position until very recently was less than optimal, and required her to utilize her finite amount of tiered magic to repair. It wasn't usually her role to cast healing magic, and in fact many people tended to forget that she was a versatile spellcaster, even if she leaned heavily toward the less socially acceptable of the arcane arts. But it was a fair question, regardless of her personal irritation. "I went a few places." Her words were honeyed, even if their implications were not. "From my extremely recent travels, Kosara, I can tell you that the roof has less snow upon it now, and Kathryn's room has a new bloodstain on the floor."

Victoria silently willed her Raven closer to the building so that she might get a vision of the surrounding area. She allowed her vision to flash over to her Familiar for just a moment before redirecting her attention back to the here and now. Kathryn had asked her a question. "The dead guy... yes, much as I asked Toombes a few questions, I might ask a few things of our new friend, the corpse. I am afraid that I can't 'make the dead guy work for you', unfortunately." A brief pause and a light shrug later, "I don't have that kind of power. Yet." The Bard felt like she might be close, like a barrier was waiting to fall away and greater understanding give her the power she desired in that regard ...but not yet.

The idea put forward by Baronfjord, that Arnaud L'Rose was learning magic from The Prince as well as pursuing it for himself gave her some pause. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility. "I understand if my opinion on Arcana requires a little additional seasoning before it can be swallowed (considering recent misadventures), but I have seen a few examples of the late Monsieur L'Rose's lack of basic tutelage on the subject." If it was true, did that mean The Prince was teaching him wrongly on purpose? Victoria did not have enough information to make that kind of a leap.

When Lizbeth took the crystal shard from her and the redness within turned into grey ash and then vanish, Victoria gave a look of equal parts wonder and concern. "Lizbeth, dear?" she began carefully, "You should probably let me try to identify these things before we get too familiar with them. Is that alright?" She was inquisitive but hopeful, though she doubted that if the girl decided against it, she would stop her with anything related to force. Very deftly, Victoria popped open the end of the scroll case in her hand and peered inside. Quizzical eyes looked surprised for just a second before she reiterated, "Yes, we definitely need to take inventory and look more closely at things here."

Lizbeth's small speech about compensation washed over her again, very similar to the one from the other, objectively more legitimate study. She nodded. While there was agreement within her that they weren't going to rob a child heiress, a contract made with reasonable terms was something she was going to go along with, especially if the goodies were interesting or useful enough. She was an adventurer. And she was pursuing an end goal, even if she hadn't shared what that might be to her new adventuring companions. Money, magic, and equipment would be necessary to make that happen. Regardless, she kept quiet, simply letting her non-verbal response carry whatever message it would.

Then it occurred to Victoria that she still had information the others didn't just yet. "I apologize for my manners; it was been a ...trying last few minutes... I caught a glimpse of magic behind this wall panel," she gestured to the place she and Lizbeth were just cleaning out, "that circle, which I can only guess is a partial protective circle, I think," and finally, she gestured to the desk nearer to the door, "either in, on, or under that desk. It resembled a bundle of different types of magic stored together." Her head swiveled over to the center cell to the side of the room, followed by a lingering exhale. "And I'm not certain, but I believe something is in there, too."

"Here here, well said, and all that." BlackBerry nodded in affirmation to the others own replies to Lizbeths offer. "As I have said before, Young Lizbeth; providing us hearth and home for the winter months is more than enough payment and we would simply be remiss not to lend some aid however we may."

Victorias explanation as to where she had vanished top earlier made his eyes go wide with shock and horror for the moment, but he held his tongue. That was until she began laying out her own thoughts on Arnaud L'Rose's learnings and what they had seen thus far. BlackBerry held his chin and tiled his head as if rolling a thought around his skull. He let out a frustrated sigh when nothing came to him.

"No, no I will defer to your judgement on the matter Victoria. I am simply trying to understand the terms of the contract which may I remind everyone we have been tasked to fulfil and an as of yet indeterminate amount of time to do so." His headache was not treating him well from the strain of trying to read in dim lighting, and everyone's voices bouncing off the walls in the enclosed space. Blackberry pinched the bridge of his snout in an effort to relieve the pain. "Perhaps the room, or the runes together may hold some answer Lady Kathryn. Or maybe even the Guest in the cell?"

He followed Victoria's instruction then and took to searching the desk. Initially he couldn't find the draw until his knelt down and ran his hand along its front, under the overhang of its top, which shifted slightly under his touch; a drawer! He pulled it open to find a long oblong parcel with a note tied to it.

"Untested. Unidentified." BlackBerry read allowed the note. "It would appear Monsieur L'Rose took quite the interest in Wands. Do you suppose this would answer the many types of magic you sensed?"

Even BlackBerry, self confessed 'uneducated in matters of the arcane', when he had gently unravelled the oilcloth atop the desk could tell that the revealed items were Wands. The were four of them each wildly different in appearance but still roughly the same shape and in surprisingly good condition. BlackBerry held up each of them in turn both to get a better view of them and to show the others; the first decorated in mouths and ended with vicious fangs he hoped were just stylised wood, the wood of the second appeared braided and was wrapped in metal twisting through colours of bronze to steel before ending with a cluster of multicoloured gems at the tip,. The other two were comparatively plainer; one being of white would with a single cut orange and purple jewel, and the second had small amber spheres running along its length. Blackberry held the last one up longer squinting at one of the amber jewels and tried turning it towards the light.

"I do believe there may be a bug in this one. Well anyway. If no one would object I would like to take these and some of the literature upstairs." His gaze turned towards the occupied cell and then towards the centre one. "It would not do to lose anything that may contain answers should the...unexpected happen."

No more prying.
No more forcing answers out of stone and shadow.
Now he watched.

Reactive—that was safer. That was survival. It was then that something didn’t sit right. The cells had been little more than an afterthought to him at first glance—rough iron bars, damp stone, and straw bedding tossed in without care. But now, standing still and letting the room breathe, his eye caught on the middle cell.

The straw there wasn’t settled the same way.
Not flattened evenly.
Not kicked aside like the others.

It bulged—subtly. As if something beneath it refused to lie flat. A faint suggestion of color peeked through the yellowed straw, dull but unmistakably not straw. And then—just for a moment—there was movement. Not enough to be sure. A shift. A twitch. A lie settling poorly.

That’s no’ right. Straw disnae breathe.

Curiosity prickled, sharp and unwelcome. Against his better judgment, Daxos approached the cell door, boots quiet on stone. He crouched, examining the lock—old, but serviceable. Nothing fancy.

He slipped a pick from his kit, working by feel, letting muscle memory take over.
Click.
Nothing.
He adjusted, tried again.
Click.
Still nothing.
A third attempt yielded only stubborn resistance.
He paused, lips twitching despite himself.

Hells below… ah keep missin’ my touch. Locks used tae sing tae me.

A quiet, uneasy chuckle escaped him—more breath than sound.

Either ah’m losin’ my edge, or fate’s havin’ a right laugh at my expense.

The humor didn’t linger. That sense of pressure—of being watched, of something waiting—crept back in. His fingers were stilled. He straightened slightly, hand drifting away from the lock and closer to where his weapon rested. No. Not alone. He turned his head just enough to keep the cell in view and raised his voice—not loud, but firm.

“Oi. One o’ ye—come have a look at this, aye?”
“Somethin’ in this middle cell’s no’ sittin’ as it should. Ah’d rather nae find oot what it is by myself.”

He took a half-step back, giving the bars space, eyes never leaving the disturbed straw.
If something decided to move again — he intended to have someone at his side when it did.

Kosara beamed a smile at Kathryn’s agreement to the fact that they weren’t stealing from Lizbeth here! Yes! They were a good party of adventurers! Unless Lizbeth turned evil and led the forces of evil against all that is good and was kicking puppies and stuff of course. If it got to that point, Kosara was reserving her full adventuring rights of loot, but that was probably a very unlikely scenario to actually transpire! Unless mind control was involved… or possessions… and dominations…” Hmmm..” The tiefling made a quiet thinking sound as she thought of how many ways one could be made evil… There were probably a lot. Hopefully no evil artifacts of evilness weer around here.

The revelation that V had ended up on the roof made the pale tiefling let out an audible gasp of surprise and horror!” No!” Eyes wide open, hands in front of mouth as she gave the bard a complete lookover to seek out any injuries.” Any injuries remaining that need mending? My magic is recovered and good for it!” She asked in worry, studying the bard.” So teleportation wild magic trap of bad luck?” She guessed and waved hand.” I will sic an Unseen Servant later to clean it.”

“Also no making unwilling subjects into undead servants especially if it involves their souls!” Kosara chimed in in semi stern voice, having just finishing her lookover of the bard’s condition and not finding anything obvious in the injury department.” Though if we are to ask them questions, it would be best to figure out what those are in advance and one should definitely be everybody who’ve they’ve seen and if they recognized them here. If it was your Grandpa, Liz, maybe he had other helpers we could ask questions. A place like this doesn’t build itself after all.”

“Wand’s should be mostly secure unless somebody tries to use them. I mean… as far as I’m aware most wands are made active magical items or at least the ones I’ve heard about? Also the one with the teeth is creepy!” She quipped.

With that she turned to the cage Daxos called them from and with narrowed eyes first case Mage Hand in front of the cage and send it going into the cage to check if something is invisible sneaky inside.” Mage Hand.” She chanted, flicking her wrist and fingers in a pattern as an elegant and feminine spectral hand formed in the air beside the cage. She then made it go in and start moving about the volume of the cage to see if anything can be touched while she got closer as Daxos to investigate the cage with the venerable sense of SIGHT and maybe a bit of smell and intuition.

Weather: With all of the fun and adventure happening indoors and underground at the moment, why are we so concerned with the weather? Well, I suppose we must. Partly sunny, quite brisk, with temperatures hovering around freezing. No snow is falling, but there's a touch of grey in the far sky that hints at more precipitation to come. The snow remains upon the ground much as it has been all day, but with a touch of crunch to its surface, as the wavering temperatures of midday thawed and refroze the topmost of the formerly puffy, frozen white stuff. Now is the time for icicles, and they do grow aplenty - though places commonly walked become partially frozen areas of not-quite-slush.

Time: Afternoon! Mid-afternoon now; an excellent time for tea, were one to have the proclivity for that. The sun drifts westward; notable of angle but still fairly high.

Ambience: The stable coolness of the cellar extends into the hidden study, if one might still be able to refer to this place as a study with a clear conscience. The (alleged) magic circle still glows a curious red color, which might sprinkle the room in sanguinous, barely illuminating light. The door leading into this place stands apart from its frame, leaning almost casually upon the hallway door nearby. Beyond this, the secret/shelf door stands open about halfway, the prybar attached to the further hidden lock mechanism on the cellar side.

The room - simply furnished, practically screaming of questionable acts performed for questionable purposes - remains as it has been for an unknown period of time. The magic circle glows faintly red, not unlike that of the crystal recovered by everyone's favorite wine heiress. The desk looks amazingly desk-like except for the sudden addition of four interesting, even arcane seeming sticks in recent addition to its open and obvious contents. The table, sinister assumptions which may be made of it aside, remains the least complicated thing about this room. Yes, it has shackles attached, but otherwise is unadorned. The crates are stacked just in front of the hidden cache, as yet untouched and not quite neatly stacked. The cells, on the other hand, were a touch more interesting. The bottom most cell contained the one, hopefully dead fellow, sitting in a fetal position and otherwise unmoving. At the top of the room, the bookcase contained a grand series of personal notations in moderately well penned journals as well as a few items put to binding elsewhere, bearing lettering not native to the region of Avonshire.




Everyone seemed like they were in agreement about not taking money from Lizbeth. Or at the very least, not robbing her outright. But there wasn't much in the way of doublespeak about the girl, so far as she seemed to feel to the casual observer. Either way, reward for service or not, the fact that they were eager to help out put her at a greater sense of ease. And really, how much is that worth? They'd figure something out, and from the eventual look of what was being found within the small room, there seemed to be enough things for many to sample. Not to mention a lot of glaring, particularly unflattering questions about her grandfather.

Lizbeth smiled politely at Kathryn's continued reassurance that whatever act of wild magic that traveled from the Lady Knight to herself didn't do something unfortunate to her, or to her budding abilities to manipulate the flows of magic. Whatever it was that sparked into her didn't manifest in any way that was negative as of yet. Or at all, she figured upon reflection. Hopefully, whatever it was had passed without incident, or merely didn't apply to her.

As it was, her mind was a bit fuzzy concerning her surroundings. The shaft of hollow crystal made into a pendant which she held in her hand, a find from the small trove in the wall, had glowed with crimson liquid the same color of the magic circle on the floor - until she took it from Victoria. The redness turned to grey ash and disappeared, but the now empty crystal, with its brassy fittings and hard, sharp edges, took up the vast majority of her interest. Eyes locked on it in an almost hypnotic state, broken only by Baronfjord's announcement about the wands. Her head turned in the direction of the desk, again alive with interest in this new haul that the elder L'Rose was able to acquire for himself. More questions, of course, starting with the origin of these things when he rarely even left the property anymore, let alone went gallivanting of in search of adventure and treasure.

Lizbeth turned back to Victoria. She hadn't announced anything she had uncovered in the wall nook, and it looked like she wasn't delving too deeply into what they had found just yet, except to open what looked like a scroll case. She saw the papers inside, but something else, too. Slow, careful fingers dipped past the Bard's arm to reach inside of the open case and pull out a what appered to be a long, slender shard of irregular black glass, tapering to a point with jagged, crystalline edges and silvery wire wrapped around a portion of it like a handle, or grip of sorts. Her hand retracted quickly as a drop of blood was cleft from her finger, a casualty of her own curiosity, which caused her to drop the glassy shard to the floor. It clanged upon the unyielding surface but did not break in the way glass might. Lizbeth quickly recovered the item and put it back into Victoria's keeping, at least for the time being. "I think you're right, Mademoiselle Belmont. We should find out what these are and what they have to do with my grandfather. This is too strange." Still, her eyes went back to the hollow crystal in her own hand. Something about this was drawing.

Meanwhile, two of the group were running their own experiment in the room, admittedly far less nefarious than previous management's experimentation, most likely. Daxos was keen enough to spot something, maybe, and Kosara had an extra bit of magical oomph, enough to give a cursory examination of the cell overall to rule out unseen difficulties. The good news was that, as the Tiefling's spectral hand moved and flitted about in the cell, it contacted nothing which might have been solid but invisible. However, when the hand began to make contact with the loose straw bedding, a thing which it might have had no problem moving about due to the low weight of straw, even older, damp straw, it made connection with something a bit heaver. More solid. Still within the ability to be moved, it clapped and clunked against a pile of whatever it might have been, shifting the straw around.

It was bone. Dry, old bone clattering under straw - which had just shifted to reveal what looked like the toe of a rather well constructed boot.

Simultaneously, a resounding series of knocks issued from the front door of the Taproom, audible because of the open doors and unoccupied space upstairs. A gruff voice barked on the other side of the door, muffled beyond easy hope of clarity. In the common tongue, one might barely make out the words "early" and "preserve." The knocks began again.

Kathryn listened intently as the bard explained her adventures. At first worried, then confused, then both at the same time. "My... My room?!" Victoria looked fine now. But there was a splattering of blood all over her room?! Did V use magic to recover? Maybe she landed on Morty and it was his blood? But also... how does one even clean blood? Kathryn had scrubbed it a couple times from her tunic with poor results. Victoria was able to answer a bit about her questions regarding magic and dead people. Reminding her of Toombas Kathryn felt sickly again. The undead were not something she enjoyed working with. Morty was easier but not by a ton. And he was tasty. "So... we can ask our new friend some questions, and see what he knows?" Kathryn asked hopefully. BB seemed to have much the same hope it seemed. Though his mentioning of the contract gave Kathryn some pause. "If you think you can make something of it, feel free to take it and read it over." Kathryn said hopeful that maybe BB would have some luck.

Daxos seemed to have a much better idea of what he was doing than Kathryn did. He searched the room with an expertise that Kathryn couldn't hope to match. And when he asked for some help to look into something, Kathryn was all to eager to help! And so was Kosara as she not only jumped at the chance, but cast... a flying hand?! "Mage hand... I see." Only to eventually reveal... a boot. Hidden in the straw in the cell. "I don't know how much help that will be to us... Not unless there is a key or a note hidden within it? Or it can be used as a bargaining chip with her new dead friend here?" Kathryn tried to joke.

The magic wands that were recovered were something else. She wished she could put into words how interesting they were to her, but it was clear as day she was probably the least qualified for magical duties with or without magic tools. "Victoria? Do you have a spell that can tell us what they do? Or maybe the wand we found the other day could help out?" She was pretty sure that is what it was. Though now that she thought about it, grandpa L'Rose sure did love his magic wands.

When the knocking began Kathryn still found herself mildly jumpy. Instantly her hand went for the head of the hammer on her belt. But soon enough retracted as the voice sounded more impatient than hostile. Kathryn tried her best to see who it could be, but alas, no luck. Deciding she wasn't a ton of help in the basement, she spoke up in offer of her services. "I will go see who that is, maybe see what is going on. Do let me know if I can lend a hand though." She announced to the group before giving a curtsy and making her way up to the front door.

Victoria was fully willing to go along with the idea that the party would hand back anything they find on what was going to eventually be Lizbeth's vineyard. It would have been less advantageous to go against it if it meant ostracizing herself from the group. This whole situation looked like it was going to become something very ugly, but with the potential to amass a ton of useful knowledge. Victoria was keen on learning more, especially concerning her fields of expertise. Power was a close cousin to knowledge. And overall, the Bard was looking to develop herself into something more powerful. She kept quiet and smiled approvingly to her companions, and to Lizbeth. Things could be worked out later, preferably with a well-meaning conversation. Victoria was good with those.

It looked very much like Victoria's research-based abilities were going to get a workout, both practical and magical, if the party had anything to say about it. Bold of them to assume that she would jump right into that, but being honest, of course she was going to. Victoria wanted to know about everything they had been uncovering just as much, maybe even more, than the others did. While they were all very good in matters pertaining to staying alive in the thick of combat, this was her personal zone of competence. The first piece of business came from Baronfjord - a collection of fine and questionable wands - and his desire to remove them elsewhere for further study along with much of Arnaud L'Rose's personal writings. "I agree. We have some things here that need to be looked over, as well." Victoria had to admire the fact that the Monk gave no hesitation in laying everything out for the rest of them to see. After being with these people for some months now, Victoria really should have let a couple of her defenses down and be more open about things like this. They were not the more mercenary-like group of which she was formerly a member. Trust was hard sometimes, though.

Kosara's concern about her injuries after her fall was quite animated, but also a little heartwarming. She extended her arms to her sides and twisted from one side to the other, smiling slightly. She wanted a good look, and that fine. Victoria was ever the showgirl. "I appreciate the offer, dear Kosara; truly I do. It is already handled. I have some very minor ability to heal, especially compared to yourself, but it was enough in this instance. Thank you."

It seemed that Kathryn and Kosara had similar concerns, as it came to the fall and bits of her blood upstairs. So Victoria stopped being vague about it, as hopefully this would get them past the topic and focused on the present. "When the surge happened, I was teleported to several places over the course of a minute. This room, the taproom, the roof..." She trailed off for a second, not particularly liking the events on which took place above them, "...and when I slipped and fell off the roof, the last teleport put me in Kathryn's room upstairs. This form of teleportation did not negate the inertia of the fall." Hopefully, this was enough of an explanation to get the gist of her little adventure across.

But to Kathryn specifically, "Naturally, Kat. I have a ritual that can help us figure out what these things do. It will take some time, but I am capable. The wand I'm holding onto from before," and Victoria made sure to specify these words as she didn't want to lay definitive claim to a thing that wasn't obviously best suited to her in this party, "only reveals the presence of magic. It does not identify, except for the schools of magic represented." Victoria adopted a thoughtful look as she tried to remember what she saw from her very brief time in the "study" with the active Detect Magic spell going. "These wands radiate Enchantment, Abjuration, Necromancy, Transmutation, and something ...well, random. I would need to get them under scrutiny to know more."

There was one thing that she could do in the meantime, and that was to engage in a little party-sanctioned Necromancy. In this case, a couple of them had asked her to have an informative conversation with the dead guy in the bottom most cell. So Victoria set to it. She set her part of the haul on a crate nearby and flourished her hand, producing her violin bow, which she immediately set to her strings. A quiet set of notes, barely a whisper in comparison to the volume possible from her instrument, but enough to invoke her spellwork from the sheet music of the Weave. Her face relaxed into a warm, genuine smile that reached her crystal blue eyes; pale orbs which now sat within pools of deepening darkness, now reaching down her face in quiet rivulets of tear-shaped necromancy. Victoria's voice adopted simultaneous qualities of power and soothing, melodic intonation, as her whisper to the dead seemed to echo in this small room, "Come, fallen one. Speak with me."

Victoria's face shifted to confusion, then a more profound understanding of the situation. The heaviness of her magic, a thing which was hard to notice until it had passed, lifted from the room. Her smile remained, though her eyes, still colored from her access to the Grey Requiem, sharpened in inquisitive intensity. The Bard's personal Thrall, Morty, took a few selected shuffles back in the direction of the young Wine Heiress, Lizbeth, at Victoria's mental command. "Lizbeth, sweetheart?" she began, sparing a quick glance at the young lady, "Would you please take the things we just found and step behind Morty? Our friend here isn't dead."

"Oh blast." He turned his gaze upwards while packing the wands back into the oiled roll cloth. "Do take care Lady Kathryn, should you need a hand do give a call but make sure whomever it may be does not get in, let alone come down here."

While more exciting things were happening with the others own investigations Blackberry took Lady Kathryns advice and began gathering the books he had been looking through, and a few others he hadn't, into a neat stack on the table. Perhaps, he hoped, one of them would contain the answers to all their questions; he was worried about whatever glow had been in the pendant Lizbeth had been holding. Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, he wished he could see well in the dark.

Not dead!

The two words got his attention faster than he would have liked. He was glad to note Victoria pushing Lizbeth to back of the room just in case.

"Not dead?" BlackBerry repeated like an echo. "By the Gods, but how? Come now quickly we must get this open. Come now good man get this door open. Who knows how long the poor creature may have been in there." He patted Daxos on the back trying to urge him to work faster. "I say, excuse me? Excuse me can you hear me?"

As the why someone was in there or even the how they had survived so long without their knowing Blackberry left the thoughts to deal with later.

Kosara’s experimentation with the second cage and checking for anything that might be invisible there didn’t provide any evidence of actual invisible entities as far as she was aware and she did put in the effort to move the Mage Hand more or less through the entire cage almost every piece of the volume. What did bore fruit though was when she started moving the straw… bedding? Covering? Flooring? Whatever the loose straw on the bottom of a cage made to hold prisoners was called. Bone and a rather well made boot?” Well it’s not an empty cage at least. Also that’s a well made boot there.” Kosara stated in the most obvious fact of the matter way possible just before the knocking started. Her head snapped in the direction of the entrance they came through.” So who is going to see what that is about?” She asked the others.

When the point was brought that the body in the first cell was ‘NOT DEAD’, Kosara froze for just a moment before mid movement she redirected and point at the other cage.” DON’T OPEN THAT!!” She barked a shouted order as she aimed her free hand at the cage with the obvious ‘dead’ body.” Berry… don’t you think it’s odd? Not dead dead bodies? Locked underground? Suspiciously high concentration of wild magic to the point it manifests in actual magical effects just by walking into the area? Nobody finds this familiar? Weren’t you the one who thought the bodies in that buried workshop moved when we weren’t looking?! We’ve got a clearly dead body that registers as NOT DEAD for the purposes of spells...” She gave him her most stern expression.” Daxos, do not even go near that cage. In fact V could you test our friend here.” She pointed to the cage that had a body just uncovered in the hay.” Meanwhile Kathryn and maybe Lizbeth can check what that noise form the tap room is about? Better nobody comes looking for us here given what we found.” She pointed out.

“We’ve already dealt with cases like this… and we know there are necromancers on the loose that manifest undead in unusual manners… ”Golden sparkles of radiant energy danced her fingertips for a moment.” Best way to check… Sacred Flame.” She chanted and gestured as the sparks of divine energy scattered as she cast the spells and now if the divine energy formed the spell and

Weather: It's almost a lovely day outside, so long as one doesn't mind the cold. Still quite a bit of cloud cover, though Mr. Sun is bright a beaming a good portion of the time. Temperatures fluctuate right around freezing, turning this whole place into icicle country (but it looks very festive, to be fair). The snow cover, which is pretty much total still, now features a crunchy crust across the top and an overall lowering of height. In the far horizon, the sky seems darker - too dark for this time of day. More weather might be moving in.

Time: Yes, ladies and gents! It's time for tea. Teatime, if you will. Lovely part of the day, usually, though it remains to be seen here.

Ambience: The air is cool in the cellar/study area. It is the stable temperature of the stone-lined underground, which is absolutely perfect for keeping things preserved and as unchanging as possible, short of magic. But while the cellar portion of the underground is a calm reflection of the practical needs of the Coach House, the Study is decidedly not. The red circle on the ground continues its silent vigil, glowing very slightly. Other spots in the Study have been picked through for interesting bits of curio, and the narrowest margin of disarray shows because of it. The inner door still rests to one side, removed from its moorings, while the outer, no-longer-hidden door stands open, the prybar still protruding from the exterior locking mechanism. The only light within this room is what one brings with them.

The simply furnished room is more or less exactly as it was just moments ago; bookshelf with a few handwritten journals and other, probably not native writings, a suspicious table, desk with (alleged) wands now on it among the other things one might ordinarily find on a desk, an uneven stack of crates near to the section of the wall which had recently been plundered by Lizbeth and Victoria - and of course, the cells. The top cell appeared quite unremarkable and unoccupied. The middle might still be unoccupied, except for the pile of dry bones and, oddly enough, evidence of footwear. The bottom cell seemed to become the most interesting. Its sole occupant appeared to be a corpse, sitting upon the straw bedding in the fetal position in a grey tabard of some sort, head down. Though there now seems to be a question as to its status. Being fair, the corpse hasn't commented on it yet.




Lizbeth's face grew serious to reflect Victoria's sudden change of smiling subtext. When the items recovered from the cache were offered, she swiftly took them and, in a sudden burst of stunned obedience, retreated behind the Bard's thrall as per instruction. Briefly, Lizbeth toyed with the idea that whatever was happening might be a thing she could help out with, now that she had a hair more reassurance that she probably wasn't a monster but eventually a powerful spellcaster of grim origin. She still had the empty vial of rough crystal, its leather cord wrapped around one hand, and thought it might ...just suddenly do something... even if it looked more inert than mere moments ago. Her fingers wrapped around the shard of obsidian that she had cut her finger on just earlier, hoping that it might be a weapon or have some magic that she might instinctively use (if the emergency called for it), but mostly, what ran through her mind was a sort of nervous fear that threatened to limit her options. This was not how she imagined associating with big, though Adventurers would be. Lizbeth did not like being afraid. Slowly, she found her feet backing toward the door, even further behind Morty.

Upstairs, as Kathryn approached the main door to the Taproom, the knocking came louder and more frequently. The voice behind it started to sound more annoyed, even if one could not quite make out what they were saying through a door and from a little distance. What words could be heard more or less clearly sounded like the Common trade tongue of the realm, that being the broader language of Humans, with local color accenting the semi-exchange. When finally at the scene of the portal disturbance, opening the door revealed a pair of folks ready for an event which may have been overlooked in the hustle and bustle of the day. It was two familiar Halflings who were very good friends, whom the party had established a date for Tea upon this day. Tarace and Barbal Mosswater, the pair who owned a sizeable estate of working agricultural land quite nearby. While Barbal remained just as grumpy looking as ever, Tarace quickly plastered a genteel smile across his face and, with the skill of a rural diplomat, held out a basket which held assorted cheese and sausages, packed with fresh herbs."Why hello, Lady Kathryn!" he exclaimed with zeal that was probably at least half genuine. "We're here for our Tea appointment! Or party, I should say, with this jolly gathering of exciting outsiders. Barbal here thought that wine was the appropriate gift to bring," Tarace gestured his head back in the surly Halfling's direction.

"Manners say it was!" interrupted Barbal, impatience obvious on his face. "Shows we're keeping tradition!"

Tarace continued in a face of what might become an argument later on, "...but I said that you have well enough wine in a vineyard, and some good sausage will hit just the right spot. Am I right?" The more genial Halfling smiled again, motioning into the open Taproom with his nose while still holding up the gift basket.

Barbal, who was stuck hauling everything else that might make a good Tea outing possible, was less diplomatic. "My balls are closer to the snow than yours are, and they're getting frozen off out here. May we come in?"

Downstairs, a minor argument erupted among the party concerning the probably not actually dead guy in the first cell. Voices were raised, suggestions hurled, events reminded of. Points were made. And in the end, divine power manifested among the secrets and magic in the hidden, underground portion of the Coach House. In that moment, unexpected things happened:

The spell went off without a hitch, striking down upon the potential threat with a practiced ease and efficiency that allowed every spark of radiant magic to land with determined force. The figure, sitting hunched over in a fetal position, got its flesh seared from its bones in a manner that was grotesque and expert, simultaneously. And while this was a staggering blow to anyone who might receive it, the creature did not crumble.

A howl issued forth from the gaping mouth hole of the thing within the cell, even before it raised eyeless sockets surrounded by dry, grey flesh. The howl intensified in volume and horror - pure invocation of soul-bleeding terror - the likes of which could not be produced merely by the corpse shell in front of the group. This was a scream was without breath, constant, far beyond the length that mortal lungs could fuel. The thing rose from its position even as more skin, more flesh fell from itself, burning away under the scrutiny of holy light. It stepped forward once, still howling, putting its weight onto blocky, wooden sandals as it slowly took one full step toward the bars.

The scream never stopped. It never even slowed.

"Let's... look into that yeah. The ritual sounds nice." Kathryn said in response to Victoria's blood splatter across the room. "I am glad you seem to be better now though." Kathryn quickly tried to correct so she wouldn't seem like she only cared about the state of the room. Kosara seemed worried about the cage, and it seemed that fear was warranted with some of the others too. When BB mentioned calling out if she needed help Kathryn simply replied. "I will let you know if I need help, but the same goes for you lot. If any of you need a big strong princess to help save the day just call up yeah?" Kathryn joked giving a mock flex before making her way up. Though she technically wasn't a princess. A lady sure, but not a princess.

At the door, Kathryn was both relieved and upset to see the Mosswaters. Thankful it wasn't an angry local who would want retribution for something that someone in the party did. Or some vengeful villain looking for retribution. But also upset because she was ready to push this tea meeting aside due to rather pressing matters going on. Opening the door with the biggest smile she could muster Kathryn greeted the two halflings. "Good afternoon Tarace, Barbal. Apologies for my tardiness we've had a busy day following up last night's events." She said trying to not give any hints as to how concerning things were getting. Kathryn wanted to do her best to keep the halfings out and away from the potential carnage that could be present in the coach house.

Alas, another one of Kathryn's biggest weaknesses was used against her. Empathy and Kindness. They had brought wine, a gift basket, and supplies for tea time. And! They were clearly freezing. Kathryn stood no chance to turn these two gentlemen away. "Here here, come in." Kathryn ushered the two in, guiding them away from view of the basement stairway and towards the table closest to the open fire. "Fire's still going so we can get tea going pretty fast here. I must apologize gents but I am afraid I do not break many stereotypes, and like way too many nobility, the best tea I can brew is a hot leaf juice at best, and sad water at worst." Kathryn joked with a smile before making her way over to the bar in the tap room. "However, we may have some pastries that Kosara and I baked up the other day still. And when I held the title of Queen of the Bar, I am told I made a great bar tender." Kathryn joked a little more to lighten the mood. Though she left out the part that she was not a bartender at the same time she was queen of the bar. The bartending work came as punishment from Ser Lucas after her self proclamation of queen of the bar to help work off the damages she caused during her evening reign.

When the blood curdling scream came from the basement, Kathryn couldn't be sure who was screaming. But she could be sure that no matter who it was something bad had happened. Did one of the dead guys wake up? Did someone trigger a trap? Did Lizbeth get some evil magical effect from what Kathryn had given her? Did they find someone? Something?! With worry on her face, Kathryn turned to the mosswaters, rushed up to them, and quickly rushed over her person to pull out her silvered hand axe and dagger, placing them on the closest table to the duo. "If anyone comes up those stairs other than myself, Lizbeth, or one of the other party members, run for the main house. These weapons should cause harm to anything else that may come up if you get cornered." Kathryn said coldly, matter of factly before equipping her hammer and shield. "If things go quiet, and we are not back up right away, run for help. Someone may be hurt." Kathryn said grabbing her helm, and slamming it down hard enough it hit the metallic rim of her chest plate. Then! She ran as fast as someone pushing 7 foot tall in full head to toe metal and bug plate could run. Cape flowing behind her as she ran, a harsh flap as she turned the corner into the basement.

Weather: Oh, the outside is still cold and white, but let's take a look at how many people are out there, hmm? So don't worry about it.

Time: Teatime. Time for tea. That makes it sometime in the early to mid-afternoon, past luncheon but quite well before supper. If you were a Halfling, you'd be hitting the second half of your dining day right about now.

Ambience: You're caught in a secret "study", brightly but unevenly lit by a Light cantrip applied to the resident Tiefling's main article of clothing. Other than that, the dim glow of what might be a magical circle (if you're lucky) provides constant but not very revealing light. This is a close room, designed for the free movement of one person but now containing a handful. Maneuvering may be difficult.



Lizbeth has taken it upon herself to step once more back, away from the ceaseless howl - a constant cry to the universe that has passed far beyond the physical capability of living lungs or a mortal throat to bring into the world and maintain. It is the stuff of horror, made even moreso by its issuer; a gaunt, half dried corpse which stood with a puppetlike pose and gait of uncanny wrongness. Another scant step taken upon blocky wooden sandals, another moment of the continuing wail. Eyes that weren't actually there crumble into dehydrated nothingness and fall from now empty sockets, to be replaced by pinpricks of light amid the darkness therein.

Baronfjord would notice the strangeness of this creature, aside from the fact that it won't stop screaming. Those eyes and that gait greatly resemble that of the fairly advanced undead creature he fought in the road. It might have given the initial impression of a basic grunt, but it took a comparatively lot of damage to take down, and it hit like a seasoned professional.

Speaking of which, @Arty Fox, you are up first in the initiative order, so... Good luck.

Once again Kosara was there with her startling accurate ability of foresigt.
Blackberry didn't even have a chance to raise a half-baked argument before she was proven right.

The scream, the wail, the horrifying roar filled the room and set BlackBerry's teeth on edge. He watched with the rising dread as the corpse shed its flesh, still burning and melting from the divine light that had assaulted it barely a moment before. For a horrible second BlackBerry found himself back on the road, surrounded by snow and darkness, with a grotesque parody of a dead man, bearing down on him.

"Lizbeth." Blackberry shouted above the roar filling the room. "Upstairs, now!"

The books and wands he had found could wait on the table.

The weak flames at his shoulders suddenly flared into life, limbs of fire imposed themselves with fury onto the material plane. BlackBerry settled down into his usual boxer stance and arm brought up to his face. He wasted no time and struck an astral fist between the cell bars towards the creature. It struck! Solid fire crashed into the creatures torso. The first hit was then followed up with another, twisting at the hip, the other astral arm smashed into the creatures face with a satisfying crunch.

The creature's head snapped back and for a blissful moment silence fell upon the room. Its head came forward and the wail began to rise again to full volume. And seemingly being no worse for wear from his hits!

"Kosara, Victoria. Move quickly!"

The creature was stepping towards the bars and BlackBerry did not want to be within grabbing distance. He danced backwards a few steps, keeping in mind not to step on the magic circle in the centre.



@Sigil spooky bois time!

Decayed, papery skin still smouldered in the relatively dim light of the cell, upon the ghastly creature that was once a living person. Fresh dents marred its already marred face, thanks to the efforts of its Dragonborn adversary. The scream continued unabated, now that the briefest of interruptions stopped pummeling its face. If it was capable of feeling, it might have been quite perturbed by that rather embarrassing sequence of cranial concussions. Lucky for it, a broken orbital socket wasn't going to ruin its weekend too badly.

The Screaming Corpse darted toward the bars, hoping to grab hold of the Dragonborn attacker and crush it to the bars, an odd clacking sound accompanying as its high, wooden sandals forcefully slapped across crude tile. When it realized the target was no longer present, it did something highly unusual for a mindless undead creation - is assumed a low stance, as a martial artist might. Specifically, as Baronfjord might. Sinew creaked sickeningly as it drew its knee high and developed a sweeping kick, transitioned over to the other leg, and launched a high arching roundhouse. Oddly, amazingly, magically even, the blocky sandals worn by the Screaming Corpse fired from its desiccated feet in direct, spiraling vectors toward their intended targets.

The first was a point-blank attack at Kosara. Thankfully, this flew very wide. The second one had a bit more balance behind it and impacted against the withdrawing form of Baronfjord with the force of a staggering hammer blow. Before minds could register what just happened, the missile weapon sandals were back on the Screaming Corpse's feet. It retreated back away from the bars and took up a defensive posture.

Baronfjord has taken 8 points of magical bludgeoning damage.

@Sigil Victoria is up next.

This was different. Victoria raised her bow to her violin with talented speed and ease. She had already given the appropriate mental commands to Morty to act as bodyguard to Lizbeth in the same way it had done for Victoria, herself, and it seemed to be doing its job, interposing itself between the girl and the obvious threat. Now that she had some boxes between herself and the creature within the cell, she might be in a better place to allow those more martially inclined to ...martial, as the case may be. Her rapier remained where it was. In these more cramped surroundings, poking about with her longest weapon wasn't the most effective use of her time. And any ability to exert her will against the undead really wasn't a thing that she had unlocked about herself or her Bardic College's teachings.

So, Bard that she was, Victoria placed bow to strings and began to play music one might fight to, bringing her powerful, melodic voice into the performance as the need struck her. It was barely a moment until every surface, crack in the wall, edge of crate, and bit of straw in the cells and spilling beyond it was outlined in defining, violet light. Nuance, though a touch to the purpley-monochromatic, was amazingly evident regardless of, and to the assistance to, the conflicting gradients of light sources within the smaller room. Most importantly, the Screaming Corpse was made obvious, moreso than it had been previously, its every motion easier to track and predict thanks to the violet illumination which highlighted the creature. This all but guaranteed a surer strike for the surer strikers.

(Any modifiers for light are null within the range of the Faerie Fire, and attacks against affected creatures - like the Screaming Corpse - are made with Advantage)

@Sigil Suprise! You're up again! HA!

The collection of bones and decent footwear underneath the straw in the middle cell, now partially uncovered by a Mage Hand, began to shift and rattle amid the flurry of movement and sound around it. There was no screaming, there was no overt terror. Just the rising of about half of the contents of the crude, straw bedding, building itself in unbelievable speeds. When fully assembled, the bones seemed to potentially frame one of the shorter races; a shorter but broader Humanoid with thick bones and tough skull. It appeared to be holding a rough rasp of corroded metal, possibly a tool of some sort but just as likely it was formerly a decent enough dagger, or scrap of building material, the main feature of which being a rough handle and a sharpened point. It, too, was colored by the clarifying purple light, as was everything else in its immediate vicinity, but that hardly mattered in a bit.

The very half-second it was assembled and armed, a swirling, silvery mist manifested around it and, when it cleared in the briefest of moments, it was gone.

Surprisingly, it hadn't gone far. Being able to reliably detect two persons near to it, the thing went for the one which had an opening behind it. It was in this place that it materialized in the same instant silvery mist, behind Daxos. While not a truly Rogueish Sneak Attack, it was enough for the well-booted squat skeleton to push a fast attack home, jamming the sharpened, oxidized metal into Dwarf flesh. This wasn't a pleasant experience by a long shot, but it pales in comparison to the attack which immediately followed.

This was a Critical Hit by anyone's standards. The Dice Gods are not always kind.

Daxos has taken 16 points of piercing damage.

@Archangel89 Daxos is up next.