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	[u]Weather[/u]: While still quite cold, we're in what is likely the warmest part of the day. The temperature hovers above freezing, if barely, though only the spots with direct sunlight get the benefit of appreciable melt. The wind is, per usual, unpleasant, and there is the bite of continued dampness upon it. This might be on account of the slight melt, or this could be the promise of more snow in the near future. 

   	[u]Time[/u]: It is Time for Tea. Teatime, one might say. This puts us squarely in the middle-end of the afternoon, approaching early evening. 

	[u]Ambience[/u]: The cellar retains its cool, preservative feel, despite the minor battle just fought within, as does the study. Of course, calling it a "study" at this point is relatively pointless, as the nature of personal edification in that room quite possibly bent toward the nefarious. Though that might be subject to some scrutiny. The center of this study floor bore the slightly glowing, red marks of what appeared to be a magic circle (despite the oddity of someone intentionally standing in it a minute or so ago), and still, it isn't quite enough light to see anything by except for itself. Light sources in here are limited to that which was brought in from outside.

  	The door to the study, proper, remains off of its hinges, and the secret door behind the shelving stands open. And as long as we're talking about doors, the one to the Taproom is wide open, admitting the ambient light of the floor above to barely penetrate past the stairs. 

	The study remains furnished as it was earlier, if a little more jumbled by the application of a quick and dirty battle - desk, table, cells, crates, bookshelf, and the funny looking circle on the floor. Now, there are the minor additions to the rooms in the form of corpses. One is a mostly desiccated dead fellow in the bottom cell, another is in the middle of the room (this one skeletal, squat, and thick boned), and another bony entity near the stairs to the next floor, though this one is much larger, more reptilian, and scarier overall. Luckily, they all appear to be inert.
	  
[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] 
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	Upatairs, in the Taproom, the Mosswaters show occasional bits of concern as to the odd noises of whatever event they weren't invited to, though this is mixed with a tiny bit of obstinance while they continue to set up a table for tea, suspecting that it will be for many people. As such, the traditional items for a proper Tea of the region are present; bread and jam, naturally, but tiny pickle sandwiches and chopped fish canapes, spiced cookies, seed cake, and cold roast chicken make prominent appearances. Already, Barbal has decided to help himself to a dram or two of the brandy from the hidden distillery, and Tarace has moved to open the door to whomever is raining heavy blows upon it. [color=darkgray][i]"Half a moment, I can't quite get the door..."[/i][/color] he said, noting that the door latch was giving him a little grief. It was designed for people a bit taller than himself, Halfling that he was, but that's nothing that a good, sharp motion or the application of a stool wouldn't fix straightaway. 

	Barbal, cup now full of the dark liquor from the cask on the bar, suggested, [color=darkgray][b]"Find out if whoever that is'll be staying for Tea. We have enough, even if the tall folk downstairs ever get up here."[/b][/color] He shook his head. The proclivities of outsiders, especially outsider adventuring folk, would probably always elude him. 

	Downstairs, Lizbeth seemed to feel some better about herself. Apparently, Victoria's words were exactly what she needed to hear in that moment. Tears were still forming from the girl's eyes, but it was much less hysterical and much more controlled. Lizbeth was now venting emotions, not being swallowed by them. After a few tense moments of what was hopefully mental self-healing, she pulled away with a renewed determination. [color=darkgray]"Okay, Mademoiselle Belmont. I'll get these things up to a table. Did you want me to get any of your books?"[/color] She hesitated for just a second and then asked a follow-up, [color=darkgray]"You said that you would teach me more about Arcana, so I can understand stuff that's happening to me, right? Do you have any idea what I did to the snake thing when I hit it? That felt strange."[/color] Without waiting for an answer, really, Lizbeth gathered up the items from the cache in the wall and stepped past the bones upon the floor with increasing levels of anxiety. She did find herself back in the door to the Taproom and just beyond, almost delighted to see the Mosswaters. Quick pleasantries aside, the young lady placed her items on a table near to a corner, and stood near to them while looking over the setup that her Halfling neighbors brought with them. A touch of a smile, or at least a tiny lessening of her distraught feelings peeked through. Kosara, she reasoned, had a good idea about the tea.