“Yeah it was like those fellas in the burrowed workshop… looked dead, acted dead, but was most likely NOT dead… well these ones weren’t dead. Not at all… well not quite.” Kosara chimed up to reply to Kathryn’s words. The tiefling had used the chance where everybody was moving away from the damn room to take a final look of note of everything and confirm that as far as it was obvious, there weren’t in fact any other wild skellingtons to try to ruin their nice day with their wild magic teleporting schenanigans. Just thinking bout it made her pout! Who would ever suspect wild magic teleporting skeletons! She was going to put it in her journal tonight and in the next letter she was sending back home! Everybody will probably find it fascinating!

Walking back upstairs all bloodied like most of the others, Kosara gave their visitors a bright friendly and welcoming smiles.” Heya! Sorry for the delay! We heard you entering, but got busy…!” She quipped as she sat down near the fireplace and began to carefully use prestidigitations to try to clean herself if able, though she also pulled a strip of cloth to wipe some of the blood and check her condition before she went ahead with the magical healings.

“I still say we be wary of that brandy…” She grumbled quietly on the side, before stopping her attempts at cleaning herself and walking over to where the tea was kept to pick herself a cup of the warm goodness.” Tea first, blood and non lethal wounds second.” She sagely nodded to herself.

Weather: The warmest portion of the day is upon you all, which might mean something if the sun wasn't playing hide-and-seek behind clouds in the middle of winter. The only good that comes of this is that the pathways through the Vineyard are a touch more passable. Balancing this, the icicles are sorely tempted to detach and plummet, making certain places a touch more hazardous. The snow is receding, but only slightly. From the feel of the wind and the clouds resummoning their energy in the distance, snow might make a proud comeback in a handful of hours.

Time: Late afternoon. Far past time for luncheon, and onward to a ripping, cordial Teatime.

Ambience: The cellar remains as it is, which frankly is the point to a cellar. Decent amounts of foodstuffs and household essentials are held here, all in proper order and in places as safe for the items as one can make them, circumstances being what they are. Of course, the disarticulated bones of a giant snake monster has a way of drawing the eye past preserved fruits and cheeses; likewise the bundles of stacked firewood and crates of non-perishables just don't quite pack the same oomph of interest when horrors lay at one's feet. So take the cellar for what it is, and try to cast off that which it is not.

The secret door remains open, its prybar key still attached to the puzzle box. Beyond, the door to the hidden study remains off of its frame, deliberately so. The door upstairs to the Taproom is wide open and sounds of company are coming from beyond.

The study likewise remains as it is, interestingly decorated as some sort of arcane torture chamber (at first glance) with splashes of business to be had dotting throughout. With more people leaving the room, and with the light they brought with them, the place darkens considerably. Eventually the only light in the room is the dim, red, constant presence of the magical design upon the floor. Three dead things are down here now, that and the spilled blood of companions.




The door remained closed, despite Tarace's efforts to get at the moveable parts of said to to allow it to function. A bit of a curse for the smaller folk of Avonshire, if one is to be believed. In a any case, the door isn't quite being opened, and a new series of knocks sound from the other side. "Half a moment!" came the response from Tarace, looking quite flustered at the nature of the heavy, wooden portal before himself. He glanced around at the others who were entering the room and noted the distinct lack of assistance coming his way, sighed, and stepped away from the door to find a chair or stool to stand upon.

Barbal was too busy with his cup of brandy to notice immediately. he swirled it about in his cup, even going so far as to gently warm it over a candle for a moment before catching its scent, grunting approvingly, and taking a shallow, exploratory sip. His face showed a considerable amount of satisfaction as that tiny sip turned onto something more solid. "Oh, that's nice," he murmured. "Might just skip the tea..." His utter obliviousness to Tarace's endeavors was almost impressive.

Victoria was the first to emerge but not the first to engage them in conversation. That honor went to Lizbeth. Casual pleasantries were exchanged on behalf of neighbors and hosts, but Barbal couldn't help feeling a little weirded out by Morty's emergence. The animated bodyguard wasn't quite the gruff Halfling's cup of tea, but as he was sipping brandy anyway, Barbal figured he'd let that slide. "Yeah. Them're canapes. Important Half-Elf stuff to do, you can't join us for a proper tea? Hmm?" Then he noticed odds and ends assembled at the table to the side by Lizbeth and Victoria. Curiosity piqued, he snorted, made up a small plate of choice items from their teatime spread, and clapped it unceremoniously onto a blank spot on Victoria's table. "You let me know what you figure out, huh? Least you can do." Curiosity overrode his odd sense of propriety in that moment. "Couple of canapes on there."

The spread for Teatime hadn't changed in the meantime; bread and jam, tiny pickle sandwiches, chopped fish canapes, spiced cookies, seed cakes, and cold roast chicken confit were in appropriate amounts for the occasion, as well as a small assortment of boxes containing teas which might fit with the overall event. Notably, water was not quite boiling yet, or even acquired for that matter. The guests were hoping that hosts might fill that role, as suited their roles hosting.

Luckily, there seemed to be some more interaction with Kathryn and Kosara, just entering the room from below. Barbal gave an almost dismissive wave at the assorted goodies for Tea and otherwise waved off the apologies for being late. "Made other plans, did you? And after last night, too. Might tell a fella next time. Come on, though. Tea needs water. Figured you'd have some going for when we showed up, but here we are. Anyway, Mr. Tarace worked really hard on those fish canapes, and..." His attention finally went to his partner, who had dragged a chair over to the front door. Propping himself up in the wooden sitting device, the gentler Halfling finally managed to get the latch freed of its precarious and annoying position, and the door swung open just enough to tap the chair which Tarace had been using.

The figure of a rather cold, if a bit wiry Dwarf stepped in, gray of skin and dressed in unimaginative but highly functional utility wear. He had a sack slung across his back which he held with numbing fingers, bulging with whatever he brought with him. Tools, some functional for close self defense, found themselves about his many pockets and tool loops, including a rather imposing looking hammer that might have been at home in a much larger forge. While he was not amazingly reactive from an emotional standpoint, it could be clearly seen that he was happy to be inside at that moment. "Cold. Need warming," he spoke in inexpert Common.

A call from Lizbeth broke the seriousness of the moment. "Master Urmdrus!" she shouted, genuinely happy to see the older Dwarf.

Lucky for them, the Mosswaters brought extra.

"It is not I who does look for trouble." BlackBerry said mocking offence. "But it is trouble which does look for me. My life would certainly be much poorer without it though I must say."

Kosara meanwhile, as ever, raised a very good point about securing the place which BlackBerry nodded to. He didn't like how the creature had tried to escape rather than stay and fight, maybe it had simply been trying to find a better fighting spot? A place with more room to move and attack from but...no, it had tried to do something to them just before it ran away. A point to bring up later once they were all upstairs.

While the others made their way up, BlackBerry instead gingerly stepped over the shards of bone back towards the study where he cast an eye over the desk, the cells, and the magic circle in turn, committing the last item to memory. BlackBerry wondered if there were anymore Guests in the cells as the creature had far too many bones to attribute to just the two skeletons. He grimace at the thought and left the study.

Before he went upstairs, where he could hear the others and a few more fairly recognisable voices, he began roughly barricading the doorway. First the door went back into more or less where it had been, but at an angle so there was enough room to grab the sides, and then across the bone and dust covered floor he pushed some of the heavier barrels and boxes in front of it. The barricade obviously wouldn't enough to stop any Guests left inside trying to get out but anything trying would make enough of a racket to alert anyone in the coach house. At least, that was what BlackBerry hoped.

He pointedly, purposefully ignored the lock and the prybar key. He didn't trust whatever magic or mechanisms in place wouldn't break and lock them out entirely. It had been hard enough getting in to begin with.

"My goodness now this is a marvellous surprise." BlackBerry tried to inject some energy and life into his voice when he arrived back upstairs. "Masters Mosswaters, my this is a lovely surprise. And Master Urmdurus too! How are you all? To what do we owe the pleasure of this little gathering?"

His traitorous eyes latched onto Urmdurus a moment to long. He dragged them away. BlackBerry drifted into the room carried in part by a frantic need to keep moving and the lovely spread set about the table. But he side stepped them to instead head towards the little study group of Victoria and Lizbeth.

"I do apologise in advance for I have a bit of a cold, you see, so best keep some distance. I should not want to pass it on to anyone. But if there are any little morsels on offer well..." He chuckled while sitting down hard in a free chair. "Well, it would be rude to refuse, yes? But do give a call if anyone would like a fresh pot of tea brewing. Here, Young Lizbeth, pass over that book if you would please? Now ,let us see if we can put our heads together and figure out something?"

It occurred to Victoria that she had neglected an answer one of Lizbeth's questions from a moment before. Being honest, she was most likely caught up in her own interests, as she had a tendency to do when something interested her. Being that she was able to ascertain that the items taken from the desk were indeed magic, as well as the things in the hidden cache, Victoria was definitely piqued. However, her usual social detachment and personal motivations were not a valid excuse to ignore the query of a girl who looked to her for knowledge, whom she was actually fond of - and not because of Lizbeth's potential to advance her own interests through money and connections. Victoria saw a little bit of herself in the young wine heiress. "Apologies, Mademoiselle L'Rose." It was a choice, as always, to use the honorifics of the land, even if her tongue more reliably spoke the affectations of her own home. "I barely saw what you were able to do against the creature downstairs; I'm afraid that I was being influenced at the time. But yes, I am aware of an ability similar to what you did downstairs. A sorcerer's power reflects what is possible from their bloodline and the choices they make with that power, even if they aren't aware of that a choice is being made. I suspect that your time training with Lady Kathryn is already shaping what kind of Sorcerer you will become. To answer more directly, that spell has different names depending upon who is casting it and where they learned it, but most general academic texts on the subject of Arcana refer to it as 'Booming Blade.' It is used to enhance weapon strikes."

A quiet, understanding smile reached Victoria's face, and an equally quiet, understanding voice suggested, "Now, let's see what we have here, shall we?" The Bard, now apparently fulfilling the role of Wizard, focused back to her Ritual work.

That is not to say that there was no attention paid to the gift of a light plate of canapes and tea sandwiches from the esteemed Mr. Mosswater. "Thank you very much, sir," she said respectfully. It was a little bit of a canned response, said quickly and with practiced air. But it was a nice gesture, and the request wasn't unreasonable, so long as nobody in the group had any objections. "I'd consider it a kindness if a cup of tea found itself my way, if it's not too much trouble." Simple. Polite. Not a command, a request. Delivered with emotional distance and a core of basic respect. Still, it was a touch cold, so Victoria followed with, "I was raised to have a sophisticated palate, Monsieur Mosswater, but there is something noble about the rustic care put into Halfling cuisine that cannot be easily replicated. I appreciate you." A smile. A bite from a fish canape, and that smile broadened. "This is no exception. Thank you so much."

Back to Lizbeth, who was indeed still interested in Ritual spellwork, at least academically. "A ritual, in this application, is the slower buildup of arcane energy to fuel a spell. Doing it this way does not deplete your own magical reserves, but it takes longer. Not every spell can be cast by ritual. The ones that can are usually utilitarian in nature. It makes them no less potent. For myself, I require my Ritual Tome every time I attempt to cast a spell like this, which is not intrinsically part of my repertoire as a Bard. I am a little unique this way. Today's practice is to cast an Identification spell repeatedly as a Ritual."

Victoria looked at the items gathered on the table before her. There were the wands from the desk, the scroll case, shard of obsidian, box, and rough crystal vial from the cache, and some papers. The Bard's hand drifted to her head, where that gods-cursed wooden sandal gave her a brutal thunk to her noggin. She pitched her voice loud enough for the room to hear her, "Did anyone recover the footwear from downstairs? The ones that gave me that stunningly offputting headache?" She should probably slam a Healing Word into that sooner rather than later, she reasoned.

With that, Victoria picked up the first wand of the bunch and cleared her mind. The material components were present. She utilized the square of black cloth with a cruciform circle as a base to rest it upon as she swirled together the strands of the Weave to achieve an act of traditional Divination, taking notes all the while.

Kathryn sighed in relief. Though she was concerned about things as a whole, the current situation was at least safe. Given Kosara's explanation it wasn't too far off from what she had guessed when she barged into the room. "Let's keep an eye on the situation for now. I don't know if its possible to reanimate the dead once they have been defeated but I would rather not find out." Kathryn said taking her foot and beginning to push the remains back into the back room. And realizing she hit the last one so hard the bits were everywhere, some smaller than fingernails. "We'll uh... find a broom later..." Kathryn said rather unsure of herself.

Back upstairs, everyone was getting settled in just fine. Kathryn herself grabbed the biggest mug the tavern floor had and filled it to the brim with brandy. A couple sips in and she topped it off. Was it a little early? Yes. Would that stop Kathryn from drinking? Absolutely not. "I must apologize again." Kathryn spoke to the Mosswaters grabbing a pitcher of water and bringing it to them. Yes there was water boiling but it was not quite ready yet. THOUGH! There was wine. "You know what would go well with tea? Some good local wine." Not only was there a murder case going on. There were undead monsters, and non combatants in the building. There was definitely some stress. Returning to the bar, she quickly grabbed a bottle of red, and a bottle of white, returning it to the table. That is when she took note that Tarace wasn't at the table, and had been struggling with the door just a bit too long. "Oh gods apologies, I am a little disoriented at the moment." Kathryn said setting down the wine bottles. But alas the halfing had gotten the door before she could assist. And who was there was Master Urmdrus. Who after todays new information, also got added to the suspect list. A part of Kathryn hated the fact that she had to put so many people that were helping them on this mental list. But she wasn't sure what else to do. The suspect pool was limited. Though she didn't have a motive for him, he was the likely suspect to have worked on the basement door to the hidden room.

Kathryn did take a moment to note that Victoria had been explaining a bit more magic to Lizbeth. It was all a bit too heavy for Kathryn to understand, but the concepts of it made sense to her as she practiced her runic magic. Though she was far from an expert in that regard. "You better not be teaching her how to cheat in her trainings or else I'll have to stop holding back on her yeah?" Kathryn said in a joking tone. The girl was getting better though. She knew how to handle a blade rather well as it was.

Lizbeth seemed so happy to see him though. Kathryn wouldn't interrogate him just yet. After what the small bean had been through, the least she could do was let her have this joyous moment with someone she cared for. Turning back to Barbal she smiled her best warm smile despite the chunks of bone in her hair, cloak, and in the joints of her armor. "Those fish canapes look down right scrumptious! I had a bit breakfast so I should really go easy on them. However... It would be rude if I didn't enjoy the hard work of my guests?" Kathryn said in an attempt to convince herself of the need for snacks. "Oh, how rude of me. Red or white wine? And I think we have some cinnamon roll treats still from the other day if you'd like?" Kathryn said trying her best to play host. You'd think the noble woman would be a wee bit better at this sort of thing.

“Not sure much of ‘made’ them as they just happened...” Kosara drawled, making a pouting face, feeling the stings of her injuries and frowning at any damages her clothes showed at current, before blinking.” I’ve got water in my waterskin! I always keep my waterskin full of water!” She chimmed up, pulling the thing from her bag.

Then the door opened and in walked their dwarven craftsman friend!” Mister Urmdrus! Hi!” She greeted, giving him an energetic wave or attempting to.” Oouch!” She winced and let out a loud sound of pain as she pulled onto her injury from the darn wild magic undeads from earlier, causing blood to seep out from the injury once more.” Owowowow…” She grumbled as she pressed her hand at the injury. She focused on the injury and the magical energies she wielded and a gentle golden glow formed at the injury. For reasons unknown to herself or maybe it was just a random roll on cosmic dice, the golden light formed and started to knit and close the damage, but barely held effect before the whole thing vanished, leaving the injury barely better than it was, but at least it wasn’t actively bleeding again.” Wut?” Was all the tiefling could say as she stared down her bloodied hand. She hadn’t had a healing failure like this in a while.

She then blinked, attention pulled by V’s voice and looked at the bard. Kosara briefly recalled that the bard was injured too.” Healing Light.” As the golden energies formed and swirled around the Bard’s injury, lessening and healing damage at rapid speeds.

The tiefling observed the fact that the magic affected V way better than herself and tilted her head.” Huh… wonder why this happens.” She mumbled and walked over to the tea kettle and poured her entire waterskin into it, refilling it and moving it to the fire for brewing. She was going to have to refill it later with clean water, but hey tea time after battle like this was important. It was a bit too cold for beer and she still wasn’t drinking the suspicious brandy. Or trying more hard alcohol during the daytime! She was raised better than that! Daytime was beer time! Evenings were Wine time! Preferably with cheese!” Don’t overdo the alcohol this early in the day!” Kosara exclaimed point a finger at Kathryn.” I still have magical energies to break your buzz if you do!” She threatened!

Weather: The clouds are gathering a bit more now, officially forcing us into the realm of party cloudy. The sky has the look of that increasing to mostly cloudy as the afternoon passes along. The warmest part of the day (that being a relative statement for this time of the year) is passing and the wind carries notes of dampness along with increasing cloud cover.

Time: Late afternoon. It is well into "Tea Time," and possibly beyond, considering discussions being had and tasks being performed. If time passes too much more, the guests might as well stay for supper.

Ambience: The hearthfire within the Taproom burns moderate to low - not the best for lighting the room but just perfect for bringing water to a smooth boil. Various candles and grape oil lamps are available for use if one wants extra lighting. Aside from this, the Taproom remains as it has been for the past several weeks. Flat, grey stone tiles form a level, even floor, which is simply and tastefully furnished with wooden tables and chairs. While they are not elaborately decorated, the furnishings are undoubtedly well constructed, with nary a wobble nor creak to be heard from their use. A bar runs most of the length of one wall, stopping to allow access to the kitchen door. Behind said bar are the stairs going down to the cellar, behind its own closed door, and atop the bar are two large casks; one contains a large amount of very fine, several decades aged brandy, the other a somewhat less amount of local ale. Several bottles of different varieties of wine can be found here, as well as all of the accoutrements necessary for uncorking, decanting, and sipping the finely crafted fermented experiences.

The kitchen's fireplace burns low. Not much being done here past storage, as the present meal is assembled fully in the Taproom, but the equipment is available for anyone who may wish to use it. All throughout the rooms, kitchen and taproom both, the scent of aromatic wood and grapeseed oil permeates, along with slight sour notes of potent potables that never truly washes out of a well used tavern.

Outside, the first flurries of snow flutter down on uncertain winds. The temperature has shifted downward over the last hour, and it looks like there might be a little more weather when the pale sun rests for the evening.





Tarace Mosswater stepped down from the chair he required to open the door. It was a touch stuck, likely from some improper use of a latch on their way in, and the leverage was needed for the cheerful fellow to open the door where a taller person might not have had an issue. The struggles of a Halfling in a Human structure are many and varied, apparently. The sudden, if quiet gruffness of their newest arrival took him slightly aback. "Oh, ah, Urmdrus, old boy. Good to see you, I'm sure." Tarace's manners remained as genteel as ever; just not his enthusiasm at the new arrival. "Oh my," he exclaimed, "flurries about." Urmdrus regarded him with narrowed eyes until he explained, "Snow flurries. Come along, let's get you nearer to the fire. Do you take tea? I'd quite forgotten." Tarace was ever the personal caretaker.

Barbal, on the other hand, was more of a social pragmatist. He dropped a couple bits of edible foodstuffs onto a small plate and nudged a chair nearish to the fire with his boot. The two looked at each other for a second, followed by the older Dwarf nodding and accepting the plate. Urmdrus removed his heaviest toolbelt and settled into the chair with a muted, "Thank. You." The common tongue of the continent still didn't settle smoothly in him. His bag of goodies slumped to the floor with a clattering noise. Whatever lay within was not as immediate a priority as warming up.

Aside from showing the bare minimum of courtesy to a guest, even if technically Urmdrus was a guest of the adventurers and not himself, persay, Barbal did act with something akin of graciousness when Baronfjord addressed him. "To what do we owe? We had an arrangement for us to join you for Tea today. Talk things over. Share what we know." He looked a little frustrated.

"Oh, and the sausages..." meekly added Tarace, his hand pausing halfway in the air as if he might have been requesting permission to speak.

"Yeah, yeah. And the sausages." The annoyed Halfling brought up a reed basket from among his bundle of belongings, the contents of which were wrapped with homespun cloth. He lifted a corner of the cloth to reveal bundles of tube-shaped, speckled, off-white forcemeat which bore slightly acidic notes. "Ankheg's done aging. Good hard sausage, lots of herbs, and some of those Rentman family peppers. Boil 'em in beer for a treat. Otherwise, they'll last you through 'til summer. We gave the rest of the shell to their fellow, Urmdrus, here." He said it like it was the most natural, fully expected thing in the world. "But yeah, put on that pot o' tea. It's why we're here."

The Mosswaters gave polite, monosyllabic sounds to Victoria's appraisal of Halfling cuisine, even if Tarace's was something like an "Aw," and Barbal's was more like an "Eh." Though the latter did follow with an only mildly sarcastic, "Yeah, get you that tea, soon as someone gets the damned water ready." He let it hang for a moment before returning to his spread of yummy things.

The application of brandy and wine to the table by means of Kathryn's efforts was not overlooked, particularly by Tarace Mosswater. While not a heavy drinker, he seemed to gravitate toward wine, as opposed to ale or the harder stuff. Barbal took a small sip from his own cup of brandy and gave a shrug, then a grudging nod toward the bottles. "Don't care of it's random bottles behind the bar. There's something about every wine from this vineyard that's compelling."

Urmdrus still hadn't explained what he was doing there, aside to show up with a sack full of goods which he still hadn't opened yet. He spoke very little, giving gestures or tight-lipped smiles which were obviously forced at each of the greetings given to him, even that from Lizbeth. Firelight danced in his eyes for a moment as he stared into the hearth, seeming to rouse suddenly to say, "No brandy for me. Bad dreams. Bad dreams." The Dwarf held his small plate in one hand and absently shoved one of the tea sandwiches into his mouth. "Good. This, good."

Not to be put off by the odd sights before her, at least not any more than she had been by the odd state of being herself possible efforts to the contrary, Lizbeth attempted to keep optimistic and/or useful despite the recently passed horror downstairs. "Oh, Knight Kathryn, I make sure not to do... the things I might be able to do during our training! That would be cheating myself, right?" Lizbeth had mentioned a while back that she wanted something to fall back upon that wasn't this magical curse/blessing/adventuring profession. Being able to defend herself with steel and chitin was a valuable backup, even if she was physically weaker.

Lizbeth did pay special attention to Victoria. The idea that she could not use Ritual Magic herself was a bit disheartening, but she understood. Not everybody did this the same way, and she knew that Victoria could really only teach her ideas, lessons in Arcana, fundamentals of Magic, not actual, practical spellcraft the way she did it. But there came a time in ritual preparation when things became repetitive, which is when Lizbeth started to look into the things she had brought up.

Firstly, she moved a stack of journals and the like over to Baronfjord, who had asked for them. The writing was scrawled in a lot of places, sometimes to the point of being unreadable, but it was mostly in Common and much of it was legible. She then returned to Victoria's table and looked over the haul from downstairs, particularly the hollowed crystal that looked like a pendant and the scroll case. Within the case was a shard of black obsidian, wrapped to one side with silvery wire. She had cut her finger on it earlier. There was also a paper. Strangely, it was addressed to her. She cradled the crystal pendant in one hand while unrolling the paper on the table with the other. Her mouth formed words which echoed some of the print she stared at, giving hint as to its contents. "Offerings of fine wine, gold, grapes, and horses." That last part seemed to stall Lizbeth. Why horses? "Taken without question and I was gifted the things in this box - Hey, it says here that they would respond to those with a history in the sands or who have been touched by death. But, it's not like we found any horses down there, right?" This was partly read by Lizbeth, and partly a rhetorical observation. "But why would Grandfather give a dead guy wine and horses? That makes no sense. Oh! I think this part is about me! Maybe." She cleared her throat and read, "I put my blood into the Well, but it didn't do any good. I believe that one with a magical bloodline can make it function, and for good or bad, it must go to my only surviving heir." There was a lot more in the letter, but she didn't get the chance to verbalize any of it.

Lizbeth let out a gasp as the cut on her hand started to bleed anew. A thread of bright crimson arced from the minuscule injury, to the irregular piece of hollow crystal like a disembodied serpent on a staggering mission. She was too shocked to move, to toss the crystal, to place the cut to her mouth - and as the blood made contact with the shard, it glowed in the same manner as the arcane circle in the hidden study, below. It was magic which involved blood, now the altered blood of the L'Rose lineage. Lizbeth looked to Victoria, and said flatly, "That cache was what Grandfather was talking about. I'll give you pick from it if you can tell me what this is first." From the look of things which littered the table and/or lay in neat organization, there was be plenty to go around that had nothing to do with that cache.

The hollow crystal was now full, and seemed to pulse with life that matched Lizbeth's heartbeat. She could tell this, because it was presently hammering inside of her skull.

"Ah, my apologies Master Mosswater. I do admit that I have the memory of a bucket with holes in it today. Ah! Thank you Kosara, worry not though I shall sort out the tea once the water is boiled."

With Kosara having filled the kettle and put it onto heat, BlackBerry quickly shuffled into the kitchen to claim a few more cups and utensils for serving the tea. Plus some honey for his own. He called out to the taproom, "Forgive me once more for my head is full of nothing useful today, and I do not believe I was present when this was all arranged." BlackBerry returned with cups, saucers, spoons and honey deftly balanced on a tray.

While the kettle slowly came to a boil BlackBerry struggled his way through the books of the late Master L'Rose's writings. His struggles were equal parts trying to follow the dead man's writings that shifted from calm collected recollections to scrawls of desperate rage, and BlackBerry's two fold headache of a cold and being kicked in the face. The dull throbbing of his skull made it hard to concentrate and he ended up rereading a few lines multiple times, the dull throbbing of his skull made it hard to concentrate and he ended up reading a few lines multiple times, and the dull throbbing of his skull made it hard to concentrate and he ended up rereading a few lines multiple times.

BlackBerry put down the book. He needed a moment to gather his thoughts (and unblock his sinuses). Most of what the old tome contained was a bit beyond him lying in the realms are Arcanic symbols and Runic equations which he didn't quite have the heads pace for at the moment, but what had been in his reach had confirmed a number of troubling thoughts.

"I admit I had had forgotten about the shoes but I do remember a strike also." He winced at the memory.

The rattle preceding the kettles cry pulled him from his thoughts and back to the room at large. He wondered what exactly Barbal had referred to at the mention of 'Sharing what we know.' There he was trying to keep things somewhat quiet for Madame L'Rose's sake, and yet here they all were having tea with the neighbours around a collection of magical objects, incriminating documents and quite possibly several more headaches than they already had had. The kettle had properly began its song by the time BlackBerry managed to pull himself out of his chair.

"A lesson in knowing when one should step back and retreat from a battle may be of use in addition to fighting." BlackBerry patted Young Lizbeth on the head as he passed. His anger from earlier had passed and left only the worry behind. "Now then, who would like some tea? Oh, before I do forget. Victoria, there are a number of things in the book that may be of interest to yourself or Kosara; I have folded the corners to mark the pages if you will forgive my manners."

He was asking for a lot of forgiveness today.

BlackBerry of course obliged to anyone who wished for a cup of tea, "Sugar? Or honey perhaps? No, oh very well. Milk? Ah, Master Mosswater, what blend is this? It does smell delightful". Only once everyone else who had asked for a cup had been served did BlackBerry serve himself using the last dregs of water from the kettle and two heaped spoonfuls of honey. BlackBerry sipped his tea thoughtfully as Lizbeth began to read the letter aloud, and then watched in horror as the crystal drank her blood.

"Young Lizbeth." Blackberry put down the teacup. He moved towards the table making sure to arm himself with a tea cloth in case he needed to smother damn rock. "Are you quite well? What happened?"

"No worries Kosara, it's only midday. I am not going to overdue it." Kathryn said confidently before a small hiccup came, and suddenly the whole world shifted perspective. Suddenly, her last glowing rune burnt out, and she went from a towering 8 feet tall, to a slightly less towering 7 foot tall. "Huh... Guess it just wears off on its own after a while." She hadn't really stress tested her magic yet. Except maybe the night of the freeze, but she kept reapplying the magic as needed as the night went on. But this time she didn't have the need to keep reapplying it, nor did she use her other runes last time. Nor all at once last time. She's honestly surprised she didn't hit more head boards within the tap room.

Speaking of drinking! Kathryn filled a mug with some of the brandy that had been picked up, Pouring drinks for her guests as they requested it. "The treats you both brought look absolutely spectacular." Kathryn said towards the Mosswaters with a gleeful smile as she grabbed a sausage and took a bit of a munching to it. "Holy shit these are good. I must humbly thank you both!" Kathryn said a gleeful smile as she finished the meaty treat. "While BB and Kosara wrap up tea, let me see if we have any of those sweet treats left!" Kathryn said rushing by to the kitchen to grab a couple of the cinimon rolls. There were not a ton left. Kathryn had been munching on these too. And these ones were just shy of getting stale. BUT! They were sweet and tasty! Rushing back in she set out a platter with the remaining bits on it. "Apologies they are not fresh, we've had a crazy morning following up on last night's events. So I was a little under prepared for today's meet and greet." She said sheepishly. She was guessing they didn't see the note about having to cancel should they not be present. But alas, it seemed to be working out.

The bad dreams comment from Urmdrus got Kathryn's attention a bit. If only because Kathryn and Victoria were having odd dreams recently. "What sort of bad dreams do you get?" Kathryn figured if maybe it was just the deep slumber that can come with drinking. Kathryn's own genetics gave her a bit more resistance than most when it came to that sort of slumber, but spending her winter at a winery has absolutely pushed that limit. But if he was having comparable dreams to herself and Victoria maybe they could come to a common conclusion. Even if he is the one who likely helped build the secrete room in the basement, they were all on good terms with one another for the moment.

Lizbeth for her part was being an absolute champ when it came to her training, even taking Kathryn's joke with a bit of grace. " If the point of training is to get better at your skillset with a blade and maneuver it is definitely cutting yourself short. If the purpose is to figure out how to use your abilities in tandem with one another like I do with my runes then that would be another story entirely. And if you want to get into how to wield magic and blade as one, we can practice that. Though your sort of magic is far different than mine. So we would be trying to figure that out together quite a fair bit. Though I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little curious to see what tricks you could pull off." Kathryn said like a giddy older sister wanting to see what their sibling could do in the right situations.

Kathryn listened to what Lizbeth said about the letters and notes. "Well, horses could be used for lots of things. I know a lot of knights will use multiple horses for multiple reasons. For long rides, for combat, some to carry their things that don't need to be on their person. If they are apart of a party they may need horses for wagons. And horses in this case could also mean logistics, assistance in passage, or anything else along those lines. But at the end of the day, it is hard to say for sure. Never been too good at riddles myself. My sister has always been better at that." Kathryn said pondering the note. The tall knight did wince a little when Lizbeth filled a gem with her own blood. Sure, Kathryn was familiar with the sight of blood and gore and all that other mess. But a self inflicted wound, especially on someone she has begun to grow and care for? Hit so much harder than any wound she could dish out to others.

"Yes," remarked Victoria. She was addressing a question posed by Kathryn, though she didn't look up from her work. "You can reanimate bones that were already put down. Usually someone has to be present to do it." She thought for a moment, considered adding a caveat, but thought better of it. With a quick, noncommittal head tilt, the Bard returned to her work. She did pause to take a delicate bite from one of the tiny pickle sandwiches, expressed her approval non-verbally, and continued her short conversation with her much more physically imposing colleague. "I wouldn't dream of giving close fighting advice, Kathryn." Her smile was practically infectious, giving one the impression of a hint of self-depreciation. "My rapier is mostly for show."

Kosara's gift of minor healing was a blessing, in an almost literal sense. Celestial ties were useful things, after all. While she had not forgotten about her own injuries, Victoria's priorities had shifted now that there were scholarly, magical things afoot. Her own sense of avarice mixed with habitual curiosity, which propelled her toward finding out information about their most recent spoils of battle. Nevertheless, personal motivations and/or flaws of character aside, there was no reason not to express gratitude. To do otherwise would be frighteningly impolite. "Thank you so much, Kosara. That was the first time I suffered a combat injury from a sandal. I must record this incident for posterity." Joking to the side, she did earnestly express a quiet, "Thank you."

The quiet note of study and ritual setup gave way to another partial conversation, as Lizbeth's own curiosity had her reading what was left for her in the scroll case; the same one which contained a long shard of apparently sharp obsidian. The note that was left struck her as odd as well. "That is a question, isn't it? Why would someone who cannot appreciate them, need wine and grapes? Or horses?" She didn't really want to get into possibilities of the horses being used for sustenance in one horrifying form or another in front of Lizbeth, and dropped it. It seemed that the universe tended to agree that more pressing things were in order, as the minute injury done to her began to fill the crystal pendant from across a foot or so of open air. That was unusual. Victoria kept her voice level, if concerned, as she answered the young girl's proposal. "Agreed." She held out her hand and took up the strange piece of jewelry.

Victoria had her suspicions, but reserved opening her mouth about it until the Rituals of Identification could take over for her guesswork. And so, true to her word, the Bard shortly reported, "Your grandfather called this 'The Well' in his writing, which makes sense. This is called a 'Bloodwell Vial,' which aligns with people whose magic is tied to their bloodline. Or their happenstance. And Lizbeth, you have just attuned to it. This isn't anything to worry about; in fact, it is a great gift. But so long as you're studying with me, please refrain from using it. We need to establish your baseline ability and push you to master yourself first. Okay?" But for just now, there were other things to look over. Not the least of which were the remaining items from the cache.

Switching to a broader, overall address to whomever was listening during this very interesting Teatime, Victoria spoke, "I intend to go through the remaining items as quickly as I can and still be accurate. Please make sure we didn't miss anything." Her eyes then fell upon the small box recovered from the secret hollow in the wall. She opened it slowly, carefully, before exclaiming quietly, "My, those are pretty."

With the kettle put onto the fire, Kosara was free to refocus on other things once more, but first she spend a good couple of dozens of seconds staring into the fire. It was… nice? Yes, almost hypnotic and warm. Very warm and it soothed her body right now. They were going to have to go down and retrieve the boots at some point… or anything other surviving in attempt to indentify magical objects and figure out which is safe to keep around and what needs to be locked for everybody’s safety. Like for example who knew if one of those wands wasn’t a wand of instant death and evil nonsense.

Suddenly she blinked, pulling away from thoughts of flame, focusing on the others, having missed a few moments, but became aware just in time to hear Berry talking about stuff in the book of importance. She skipped over to Berry, patted him on the shoulder as golden energies appeared and sparkles rushed at the dragonborn’s injuries to rapidly healing him.” Cure Wounds! Here, this should make you feel better!” She smiled at him as she moved over to check the marked parts of the book with great interest.

The tiefling blinked a few times as she read the notes first. Then blinked, rubbed her eyes and read them again. YES, they weren’t changing.” Ohh...” She quipped, making a thinking face. There were a lot of references to the land and harvests… For some reason her mind kept going back to the grape things that smelled like rotting flesh. Then there were mentions of the dead and not letting them lay overnight. All in all, there were a few conclusions to be made that can be summed quite nicely.” Well… that aiiiiiiiin’t good.” She commented, eyes running over the varying notes once more. There was a very distinct decline in sanity apparent in those notes… well maybe decline in sanity wasn’t the right term. It was more like what one might call a shift in alignment… Going from caring, to hating and back to caring as if fighting off a foreign influence.

This along with what Lizbeth might be reading confirmed the presence of the Prince. What the thing that Kosara was reading however was more or less confirming who the prince claimed to be. Well if he was hiding all the way out here it might explain why nobody has seen or heard of him in ages. Who would seek out a southern lich all the way north.” We are going to need holy water… a lot of holy water… and fire.” Kosara finally stated then blinked, recalling words being spoken. “Hold up… those ‘DREAMS’… and booze...“ She mumbled, making a thinking face as she eyed the group. There had been repeated mentions there was magic within the land itself… ”Hmmm...” Kosara had entered her hard thinking state as she began playing with her braid.

There was something just on the tip of her mind. THe faces she mentioned in the journals... now that it was pointed out, yes that was a very unsettling realization. It implied very very bad things, the other implication however. The repeated mentions of hte magic in the land, the dreams, the fertility and harvests mentioned, then there were the nightmares and the fact Urmdrus mentioned it was after the booze. Now that she thought about it, didn't the group supposedly have the dreams when they drank it too?" Wait... magical land... magical energies... evil energies... plants grow and fruit in said land and energies... could it be..." The tiefling was talking to herself pacing left and right. Suddenly she spun on a heel and aimed a left hand at V.

"THE BRANDY MIGHT BE MAGICAL AND OR EVIL!!!" She proclaimed with such a finality and certainty like it was saying that the sun was coming in the morning or that the sky was blue." The journals keep repeating about the land and how it's related, about evil dreams showing information and things... and you lot all had the bad dreams after drinking it, am I wrong? We need THAT identified right away!" Kosara stated, looking very serious.

Weather: It is cloudy, and it is hovering at windy. Cool colors of blue and white are at the cusp of changing into the softer colors of evening. Light snow flurries tease the earth with the possibility of more solid snowfall as the day deepens into evening, though not with the foreboding of the recent blizzard.

Time: Late afternoon. The abstractness of time after a physical conflict has a way of muddling its observation, which in turn begs the question: Has it been an hour? Ten minutes? Are we keeping guests until supper, and/or is this a sleepover? Whichever of these things winds up being the most accurate, there is time to accomplish things with, or before, the loss of the light.

Ambience: It seems quiet in the Taproom. A sense of a lull that really only happens in times in introspection, study, or the application of decent food that satisfies a need you weren't sure you had in the first place. Warming tea, a decent fire, and many, many questions which need answers take a formidable forefront.

Lighting here is homey and comforting; not too bright as to make things uncomfortable, and not so dim as to make reading difficult. Lanterns of grapeseed oil and decent wax candles are available for those who want a little more personal illumination. The occasional popping sound issues from the fireplace, giving the Coach House a welcoming feel to match the warmth it provides.

Herby and savory scents mix with woodfire and grapeseed oil, cut through sharply by freshly brewed tea. Even if it is getting late for a proper "Teatime," persay, one would be hard pressed to refuse a comforting offer of a cup and tiny, open-faced morsel or another. The overall feel and furnishing of the Taproom hasn't changed in the weeks of its occupation; flat, even tiles of grey stone comprise the floor, upon which are sturdy, comfortable wooden chairs and tables with nary a wobble nor creak to be detected. The same polished wood makes up a bar which runs the length of one wall and is stocked mostly with wines bottled on site, though other items may be located by the aspiring imbiber. The exception, of course, are the two casks, tapped, on one side of said bar - one containing local ale and the other a brandy of amazing quality and questionable background.



"I'm fine," answered Lizbeth, a look of surprise more than alarm on her face. "I didn't do... I just..." There was a struggle of words as the girl attempted to put descriptives together to answer Baronfjord's questions. It seemed simple enough. But as she wasn't sure what happened, and only partly if she was well, the task was uncertain at best. Lizbeth flexed her hand from the cut she was received earlier, a thing which, being trivial at worst, had almost completely closed up by then. Except that some of her blood had used that minor opening to defy gravity and fill the hollow of her late grandfather's crystal pendant. "I feel well. I mean, as well as I might after all that in the cellar." The pendant's pulsing color, now synchronized with her heartbeat, began to fade until it settled into a faint point of barely registered glow, which still pulsed, but so faintly that one had to really look for it to notice.

As the efforts of the Mosswaters were noticed, or at least vocalized, by members of the party, Tarace and Barbal saw fit to act in manners which were shy, or noncommittal, varying quite predictably between the two of them. They were a mismatched pair, the Mosswaters, but things with them seemed to come together well enough. Despite the grumbling and occasional comments of an only marginally disparaging nature, Barbal made sure that everyone's plates were full of the various goodies he brought. In fact, his disposition was downright neutral - even interested - when the tea was brought out. "Can't call it Teatime, really, unless we're serving it. Right? Hmm?"

On the other side of the table, Urmdrus had quite made himself at home. One could see him occasionally looking from Lizbeth, who was rather involved with the events of the moment (not to mention becoming part of another arcane mystery), and then look back to his off-colored Bag O' Stuff. It looked like he was biding time for something. This was no reason to neglect packing various foodstuffs into his mouth with the practice of a seasoned professional, as well as drink basically whatever was put in front of him. Except for the brandy, as he had mentioned. Answering Kathryn's question, "Eh. Bad dreams. Sapper for an army. Dead people. Lot of dead. Lot of screams. Don't need more of that." He nodded gravely, and sipped from his drink again.

Lizbeth's response to Kathryn was a little less sure, like she was trying to figure out what her opinion about mixing magic with fighting as she went along. "I don't know. Not, hmm... not yet, please? I don't know what I'm doing yet, and ah, most of this stuff has been accidental, you know? I need her," Lizbeth motioned absently back in Victoria's direction, "to help me figure out what I can do first, right? Besides..." Her voice grew more serious, "I don't want to have to rely on this. Magic was forced on me and I don't understand it. Please, not yet."

The latest arrival to the Vineyard, Daxos Irombow, made it a point to grab a fair amount of what goodies were portable, a bottle of wine or two, and his belongings. He had taken the brunt of a vicious attack downstairs, and gave the impression of a person thoroughly done with whatever was going on. "A'v haed enouch o this. This isnae any safer than soakin ma head wi honey an sleepin wi angry badgers. 'Safe House' indeit." Daxos made his way to the door and turned back to his fellow Dwarf, leaving with one final statement. "Let me know whan the guild sends ye the okay, Master Urmdrus. Yah?"

Urmdrus nodded and issued a compliant grunt. This wasn't the best situation for enyone, granted, and the younger fellow seemed to have gotten the rough end of the day. He gave a quick bit of instruction in the Dwarvish tongue, and settled back to the contents of his bag. From this, he pulled out a few more pieces of armor, made to compliment a certain breastplate he had created for a young Human girl. "Pieces of shell. Mosswaters give, from cooking." he thought for a moment, trying to rephrase, "Before cooking sausage. Still good after treatment. Keeps you safe. Safer." There were enough parts which Lizbeth could attach to her person to give respectable coverage of armor. Not as much as a full suit of plate; but the girl might yet be able to move around unencumbered if fully donned, and the protective sections of deep green, chitinous plating were quite striking in the light. Lizbeth marveled over it all for a moment, and was about to speak words of gratitude, but was cut short. Urmdrus held up a circlet of various colors of green which resembled a laurel wreath, or arranged grape leaves, which he placed loosely upon her head. Urmdrus took it back, made a quick arrangement, and placed it back. "Better than no helm. Ran out of shell. Early Frostval present."

Lizbeth wrapped the older Dwarf in a huge hug. To his credit, Urmdrus reached one arm around to reciprocate, even if he did look a little uncomfortable.

The sudden cry from Kosara, warning of the magical and/or evil nature of the brandy, gave Barbal a start."Is this some trick to get me to vomit in public?" he accused, pointing a rigid finger at Tarace. "Because 'fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice...' Well, you're not going to fool me... twice." His meeker partner could only hold up his hands and wordlessly insist that no, this was not some odd trick. Again.

Victoria had finished the Rituals of Identification on a few of the items, and even wrote down the general effects of said items. She placed them upon the table with the notes that Baronfjord had marked for everyone to read, atop sheets of paper which explained their use:

Blackberry was only somewhat reassured by Victorias words; as far as he was aware attuning to an object didn't take ones blood but who was he to argue with Victoria who had more experience than him with both magic and the more 'profane' arts. It was a question to possibly ask about later.

He absently thanked Kosara for bit of healing she granted which quickly soothed what had been a growing bruise of his face, and even unblocked his left nostril. Magic truly was a fantastic thing, but the second thing may have just been a coincidence.

BlackBerry could sense some unease from Young Lizbeth that much was obvious and given nearly every day had brought more and worry onto the poor girl, he didn't blame her for wanting to avoid using her magic for now.

"Just as well really. Let yourself focus on the basics before throwing something such as magic into your combat training." He nodded with approval at Lizbeths decision. His eyes still flicked towards The Well. BlackBerry then pinched his chin and put on a bit of a show tilting left and right a bit before stating, "I am glad to say you do not look any worse for it however; no changes in height, sprouting flowers or even a change of hue. I daresay you have gotten away far less scathed than the rest of us."

Kosaras exclamation just then made him jump.

"I am glad to report that I for one have not any." This wasn't entirely true as he tried to turn his mind back to the party the other night, he was fairly sure he had had a sample of it mixed with the wine. He would have to think on it after his ears stopped ringing. "But Kosara I do worry it is not just the Brandy we should be concerned about. If it is truly something of the land than unfortunately that may extend to everything else grown here. But you are right, that must be our next action. Afterwards..."

It was not a comforting thought. How in the hells were they supposed to explain this to Madame L'Rose. He doubted 'Cursed Brandy Wine' would be good for business. There was still the issue of the demands from The Prince. If Monsieur Arnaud had offered things like grapes, food, and horses before..then perhaps that is what The Prince was after again?

"Perhaps it is as simple as wanting something of worth or exotic origin? I once knew a fellow who had owned this fruit called a 'Duran'. 'Dorian'? 'Durian'?" BlackBerry tried the word a few more times of varying pronunciation before giving up. "Regardless, it was something from overseas and you could smell it from several corridors away. He seemed very proud of it though even after we threw him out the door."

BlackBerry was pacing the room now in thought. Tapping his chin, tilting his head one way then the other while he chewed his cheek and on a worrying thought. He paused only to give a surprised, and a little sad "Oh, Farewell Daxos. Do take care." He dearly hoped the man would keep his mouth shut about what they had all found in the cellar, not that that seemed to be a chief concern right now with the spoils spread out on the table. Even as Victoria completed her identification he continued to walk back and forth, back and forth, and tap, tap, tapping his chin.

'Terms for promised compensation for the initial agreement with Master Arnaud extend beyond death and have not been met.' He remembered the words from the letter and without any clue as to how to reply.

"But this would suggest Monsieur L'Rose had already fulfilled his obligation? Or at least he thought he had? Oh dear, it would seem a question still remains unanswered and we could be much shorter on time than first thought. Young Lizbeth, may I see that letter you were reading just then please? perhaps there is another clue to this puzzle within."

"Very pretty." It was a continuation of Victoria's last thought. This was aimed at a set of subtle but lovely, floral hair combs, just perfect to tuck securely into one's locks as either decoration or to tastefully pin things up. The purpose of them eluded her to begin with, but this was rectified with the application of her continued Ritual Magic. Looking into Wizardly spellcasting had swiftly paid for the effort required to learn it, and then some. This thought paired with the fact that she now had a spiritform extension of herself in the form of a Raven Familiar, a thing that she didn't know she wanted or needed until she acquired one."I really must find a suitable name for you, O noble shadow mine." The Raven on the back of her chair made a quiet, croaking sound and fluttered its wings in response. Victoria slowly shook her head with a smile and returned to her work.

When she was done with the combs and the appropriate knowledge filled her mind, Victoria looked to her younger counterpart and declared, "I accept your offer, Miss L'Rose. In exchange for identifying the Bloodwell Vial, I claim this for myself. Agreed?" The accepting nod and accompanying monosyllabic affirmation following, Victoria wasted no time in fixing the comb into her hair just behind her ear, pinning up the side from which she favored playing her violin. The change was subtle. In one with traditionally appealing features anyway, there wasn't a flaw to smooth out, nor a dull thing to brighten. But something about the overall look of the massively charismatic, undeniably beautiful Half-Elf sharpened, clarified, became slightly more intense. Victoria's aura seemed to hum with simultaneous intimidation and approachability. Slowly, the floral elements of the comb shifted to compliment her outfit, as if it was designed with her fashion in mind.

Between identifying more items, Victoria absently rubbed her head where the odd footwear had stuck her. It wasn't necessarily a bad wound, but it was annoying to the extreme and almost soiled her new favorite black-and-gold pashmina. Kosara had lent a bit of her healing to patch the wound up, but her healing abilities didn't seem to do quite as well for herself. "We can't have that," she thought with (an only slightly) mischievous smile, and quietly sang the short syllables of a minor healing incantation. She dug a little deeper into her tiers of arcane power than was strictly necessary, just to make sure everything came together satisfactorily.

She also took note of Lizbeth's responses to Kathryn, concerning their training. It was interesting to her. She wasn't learning how to "soldier" because it was some novelty. This was a backup for her because she didn't fully trust what was happening, so far as her newer, arcane gifts were concerned. It was pragmatic and showed dedication. Victoria wished to continue to witness the girl's development, if she were still in the area for that long. Or if a viable alternative was imminent.

But back to Kosara - her sudden assertion that the brandy was magic and/or evil wasn't really a shock, nor completely unexpected. She remembered having the slightest inclination in this direction herself, but there wasn't much else to be done about it. Though suspicion was not outright declaration, and the Tiefling lady put it out there first. All Victoria could do was acknowledge and follow up with whatever divination she might bring to the table. "Of course, Kosara. No stone unturned, yes? I will look into it when I finish with our finds here." It seemed that she was indeed the closest thing to the party Wizard that they had.

Daxos's exit was almost as uneventful as Victoria might have dreamed. Though without the pomp commonly found in such situations, it was probably the smartest thing the fellow might have done, as he was not exactly as lashed to the problems as the rest of them were. She offered a simple gesture to the Dwarf as he exited the building. An easy parting for a recent introduction.

Victoria finished off a tiny pickle sandwich and cup of tea, then got back to the work. She would have to schedule some time to practice her music later; not that she was going to get rusty, or anything of the sort, but a little break to the monotony that wasn't apprenticing under the town's Healer, or hand copying instructional manuals on anatomy, surgery, and ailments. Music later. Rituals now. The other items present in the wall cache were a small collection of fractured arcane formulae on good parchment, fine, high quality inks, a couple of interesting pen nibs, and a slender, sharp shard of black volcanic glass with silver wire wrapped around the slightly thicker end. When the Bard was done, she looked to Lizbeth, stating, "I'm not sure that your grandfather knew what these things were, child. He tried his best, I am sure, but these scrolls are useless to you. Half of it is useless to me, and I am less restricted with my spellcraft." All the same, Victoria set the papers aside for a more thorough inspection when the other items were handled. Except for one of the nibs. She removed one of the feathers from her great, wonderfully bardy bard hat and set the nib on the end of its shaft, capped it, and replaced it in her hat. She shrugged sheepishly, saying that, "I shall compensate for this, I promise. This is a Bard cliche that I cannot help utilizing as a guilty pleasure." A decent pen nib was worth its weight in gold. Thankfully, they were also very light.

The black, glassy wand went next. The thing had cut Lizbeth, and to look at it, Victoria could see how that happened. It looked like you might readily impale someone with it, even though it was a wand. Her findings gave pause, and she addressed the party directly when she was done. "Interests of disclosure, I should like to hang onto this one for now. It provides close and mid-range options to attack with necrotic damage, a limited number of times. My spells can run out, and I could use this as a backup until I find safety." She held it up for everyone to see before putting it back on the table. "If there are no objections, of course."

The last two items were both footwear of very different types; one a finely stitched, navy to royal blue leather set of boots with silver accents, and the barest wisp of airy condensation emanating from the soles, and the other an odd pair of wooden sandals, reinforced with metal in places and decorated with regionally foreign artwork. The latter strangely had a pair of cleft stockings with it, which Victoria couldn't make heads of tails of, except for the enchantments which it possessed.

Finally, after the last assessment was made, Victoria pushed back her chair and stretched, intoning, "I believe that does it for the haul. I shall have to translate the writings here which I believe are attempts at spellwork, but for the now (unless we missed something), we have a complete inventory of a number of things which may become useful in the near future. Enough for all of us to find something relevant to our professions." She looked at the shard of obsidian on the table again and took it up, admiring the reflection of firelight from it. "Not the greatest of things against the undead, but serviceable. Artistic, really. Hmm."

Kathryn had to admit, she took pride in her work and skills. Though she was shy and awkward in many regards, she knew what she was an expert in. Replying to both Lizbeth and Victoria about the martial training Kathryn spoke in her most supportive tone she could. "I understand wanting skills that can be used completely independent from one another. Should the day come where we wanna figure some of these other skills out maybe you can show me a trick or two yeah?" Kathryn teased a bit. Though the kind of magic she knew was leagues different than the kind that Lizbeth or Victoria were familiar with. It was messy, crude, and had a mild tendency to burn itself out from time to time. That is when she noticed she hadn't recovered her cape from when the Runes snapped the buckle holding it in place. A problem for when guests were not present. Turning back to Victoria Kathryn did smirk. "That offer is also available to you too, magic for showing you how to use that blade for more than show yeah?" Again, more in jest. Though Kathryn was far from an expert magic user when it came to bringing physical punishment as two of the dead things in the basement learned, she was an expert.

Kosara was... another story. Between Master Urmdrus's comments, and somehow Kosara putting the pieces together, Kathryn found herself perplexed. But, the more the tiefling woman spoke of the matter, the more it bade sense. "I think the brandy is a bit of a stretch, but it wouldn't hurt to identify it if possible. Now that I am thinking about it, could it also be effected by the wild magic surge that happened in the distillery?" Kathryn asked almost forgetting she was in tea time not just work time. But the way that Urmdrus talked about his dreams. They were... Familiar. It was concerning. If Kosara was right on the mark here, maybe Kathryn should take it easy on the booze.

When Daxos left Kathryn couldn't say she blamed him. Things were getting intense, people were dead, and there were no signs of things being safer any time soon. "Be safe Daxos, reach out if ya ever need a hand yeah?" Kathryn said optimistically, a little saddened that he had to leave.

Kathryn was rather impressed with the work that Urmdrus had put into Lizbeth's new set of armor. "Careful Master Urmdrus, something like that could make a lass jealous. It's something I would fight the boys in the yard for when I was her age." Kathryn said jokingly. Though she was younger than Lizbeth when she was fighting boys in the yard. Still winning then too. To be fair, she was bigger and stronger than kids years older than herself most of her life. The wooden practice armor was enough for the mock battles her uncle used to put on. Kathryn did her best to hide a smirk when the underdwarf attempted to hide his awkwardness in the hug. She hated the fact that he was on the suspect lists. But it was a long list, with little way to narrow it down right now.

The Mosswaters seemed to be having an absolute wonderful bit of a time. Kathryn wished she was a better host, but between the night before and the morning, and the recent battle in the basement, she had little time to prepare, and felt rather frozen in place when it came to treating her guests. "Do let me know if the sweets are not to your liking, I bet we could find something else in the interim. Maybe something else to drink rather than the brandy. I do believe we have some Ale left from town if you would prefer that?"

Victoria had made some good work on the items that had been discovered. Kathryn felt strange pressing a claim to anything. Though Lizbeth gave permission to use what they find while they figure things out, she still felt terrible for her thoughts of taking that fortune hidden away in the main house's study. Taking anything from Lizbeth felt wrong after that. Especially after she and her aunt have been such gracious hosts. The way bb talked about the note that was read off gave Kathryn some pause. Though Victoria read it, BB brought up a fair point. "Maybe it's an on going obligation? Like taxes, tributes, rent, stuff like that?" Kathryn asked. But she wasn't totally sure how magical pacts worked overall. Now that she was out of her element, she was back to just sharing her thoughts, and trying to not get in the way. Kathryn did take a moment to skim the notes, some items looked interesting, though she wondered the best way they could be used. She would be lying if she said that the boots that teleported weren't at least a little bit interesting. Or the wand that caused massive changes in size. Though she had no idea how something like those would work. But the idea of being adorably small for an afternoon sounded fun. Or being so giant that she could punt some arseholl across town also seemed fun.

"The water is probably ready enough to finally make some tea. I can go and pour some." The warrior princess spoke making her way to the kettle, having little idea how to make tea other than hot leaf juice. Not that she ever needed much more than that, but she was probably the least qualified to make the hot leaf juice than anyone else in the room with the exception of Morty. Even that was only applicable as the half giant held something the walking pork chops lacked. Thumbs. "Would either of you like some sweetener in your tea?" Kathryn asked towards the Mosswaters attempting to make up for her lack of hosting skills. She would need to work on that, especially if she was to ever claim her titles. But first, she had to decide the best way to grab the tea pot without burning her hands.

"I do say the sandals would provide some much needed long range attacks for myself." He chimed in after Victoria explained finished identifying their 'loot'. He turned to Lady Kathryn on his perpetual pacing. "An ongoing obligation may be something to look into. Very good thinking Lady Kathryn."

Another thought struck him on his tenth, or even eleventh, lap of the room.

"Master Urmdurus, I believe there is a matter of which we must ask of you." BlackBerry deposited himself in the chair next to Master Urmdurus. "The reason being of which, for as far as I am aware, you have been here for the longest of all. Not too earlier, we had been..." He paused with his mouth open, trying to figure out the best way to say 'We've been snooping in places we should not have been and had to fight against undead assailants whilst the heir to the L'Rose estate was right next to us.' "Investigating the strange events surrounding the estate as of late."

His eyes wandered towards the Mosswaters being served tea by Lady Kathryn; the pair seemed an alright sort, but he did still worry if it was right to discuss such inflammatory things with them present. Oh well, they simply had more pressing matter than possible blabber-mouths. BlackBerry refocused on Master Urmdurus who was patiently waiting for him to continue.

"To keep things brief." BlackBerry continued, "We came across a room in the basement that had been locked away behind a hidden door. The recently departed Daxos had mentioned the craftsmanship bared some similarity to that of The Duergar and so we did wonder if perhaps you had known who may have installed it?"

Master Urmdurus simply stared at BlackBerry for a moment while he took in everything. After taking a large swig of his drink he answered, "Yes."

"Ah! Marvellous! Please, Master Urmdurus I must ask you, do tell who is responsible?"

"Me."

"Hm. I see." The answer didn't surprise BlackBerry as much as he thought it would. Kosara had even said it was likely to be Master Urmdurus who had made the door. But now there were even more questions and BlackBerry's demeanour changed subtly, more serious and hardened with this confirmed piece of information. "And do you know what it was we found in there Master Urmdurus? Who was it who charged you with the task and why?"

“Not that I am aware! This is a very serious problem involving probably cursed alcohol! VERY SERIOUS!” Kosara replied to Barbal in the utmost serious voice and expression that the bubbly tiefling was capable of. Yes the white haired woman was very serious on this subject.

“Berry, considering we get evil dreams from the brandy, I’m fairly sure it’s a thing of importance in on itself. We do not get evil dreams from having the cheese… or the bread…” Kosara began, before stopping mid sentence, making very hard thinking expressions .” At least I don’t think we’ve been having any evil dreams from the bread… I haven’t.” She was very clearly starting to get sidetracked again, before blinking.” No! Focus, evil brandy! We have it here to check what that’s about in convenience!” She reaffirmed to the bluebarry dragonborn.” Or they just are asking for luxuries and other things of personal appeal… If you are a prince even self proclaimed you will want a certain level of luxuries.” She mumbled in relevance to why those lists of items were handed out to the probably evil undead lich that was lurking somewhere in the area.

“Bye, Daxos!” She called to the dwarf before turning back to her blue teammate, almost bursting into a tune before reaffirming her control over her own mind and sanity.

“Well we did receive a letter involving something that must be done and a deal...” She added, recalling the messenger suspicious undead that were definitely not reduced to snowflakes because of them… definitely not their fault even if those silks looked MARVELOUS on the party.” And the letter definitely mentioned Mr L’Rose’s part of the deal was not met and that it had to be fulfilled per the original terms of contract and we had limited time...” Kosara recalled the letter they got from the frosty sharply dressed undead.

Suddenly she felt a wave of comfy and warm fuzzy feals of health wash over her and she realized she was healed! Glorious! Considering Kathryn had no idea how to magically heal and Berry was a fancy monk who couldn’t magically heal her, this left only V.” Thanks, V!” Kosara replied, giving the bard a huge radiant smile of gratitude at her purple clad friend. She nodded contently and pleased with the bard confirmation she will examine the brandy for evil nonsense. Evil alcohol was a travesty all things considered. Alcohol should never be evil, it should be truly neutral. She also narrowed her eyes at Kathryn who kinda tried to defend the brandy and made a ‘I’m looking at you’ gesture at her bestest of friends. Kathryn also owed her massages.

“We could boil some dried fruits with the tea leaves. That should make it sweeter and more pleasant to drink.” Kosara chimed in from the side when Kathryn brought the topic of sweeteners for the tea. The tielfing had also meandered her way over to the notes on the magical items, reading them through. There were many and interesting, but one caught her attention and she gravitated over to it with the subtlety of a rock thrown at a glass window as she snatched the sheet and brought it practically next to her nose to read it. Of course she realized it was quite hard to read something when it was touching your nose, so she pulled it away at a regular distance and reread it a few times before placing the sheet down and looked at the Wand of Wonders with a gaze mildly reverent and VERY excited. The white haired dancer looked about ready to literally pounce at the wand, but was controlling herself with reasonable success. What she wasn’t controlling quite as well was her voice as a squeal of delight filled the coach house.

That wand was EVERYTHING Kosara wanted of something found on adventure. She wouldn’t even mind not owning it as long as she got to wave it around and see what happens. She mostly ignored Berry questioning the craftsman dwarf. She didn’t miss it, just ignored it for more pressing matters, namely giving Lizbeth and Victoria a pleading/excited gaze that wouldn’t look out of place on a child wanting to test that new toy.” Can’t we try it, please? Please?” She childish joy and pleading, giving her the impression of being so much younger than she was… or so much childish… maybe both.

Weather: Cloudy, windy, and with the start of light snowfall (barely a flurry, but slowly increasing in strength). It is cold, as one might expect from winter. Luckily, the situation looks to be different, milder, than the recent blizzard.

Time: Late afternoon, still. Tea Time has officially began to run late, and if one were a Halfling, one might already be preparing for their next meal. It would be inaccurate to say that the day has crossed from late afternoon to early evening - perhaps we should refer to this as "prevening," seeing as it's a rather cuspy time of the day.

Ambience: Not a lot has changed in the past stretch of time. Conversations continue, things are revealed, the remains of dead things remain in the cellar and parts beyond, yet none of this really changes the folksy, comforting surroundings of the Taproom. Lighting is dim but adequate in every place that is not overseen directly by candle or lamplight; in those places it is more than sufficient. The scents of food, woodsmoke, tea, and grapeseed oil linger, but to not overpower. Overall, were this place not the site of an ongoing problem and immediately passed skirmish, it would be a nice, cozy retreat from the road.



The general agreement with Lizbeth's desire to keep magic training and combat training separate gave her an amount of well-needed reassurance. She even sighed with relief as she realized that there wouldn't be pushback on the subject. She gave a nervous smile and followed up with, "I'm not even sure what I can do yet." It was sheepish, uncertain, and with an expression that did not quite match the custom breastplate of green chitin, layered, curved shortsword, and lightly pulsing crystal containing her own blood that she bore upon her. And she still a child, by the metric of the land.

The acquisition of the pen nib seemed to puzzle Lizbeth. "Yes, it's fine, pray don't mention it, but..." she started, somewhat puzzled by Victoria's odd request and odder use of the writing utensil, "...what do you mean by 'Bard cliche?' Is it, um, is it like the rumors I hear about Bards? You're the first one I've ever met in person, and you don't seem like the stories, Mademoiselle Belmont." She did not elaborate on what rumors those might be, even if they were evident.

But past all of the issues of her training, the fight that was recently done, and even the proclivities of stereotypical Bardfolk, Lizbeth seemed really interested in the wondrous bits of minor magic that were being catalogued, even going to far as to take occasional note of her own. Maybe she couldn't cast magic like this, but it didn't stop her from wanting to know about it. She read every one of the papers that Victoria wrote for the items, occasionally picking one up to see how it felt in her hand, before returning it to the table where it lay, keeping it available for the real adventurers to utilize.

The Mosswaters, sensing a change in the overall air and attitude of the room coming like an ill wind, kept firmly to themselves and simply allowed things to play out. True to Barbal's declaration earlier, he made himself quite comfortable looking over the magic items as they lay there, identified and ready for use. His fingers flexed and there was the slightest glint of avarice in his eyes, but he controlled himself accordingly and simply read the papers. Tarace seemed to recognize that look in his partner's face and quietly took one of his arms, ushering him back to the table with a steady, "I saved you a few of those fish canapes you like so much, Barbal. Come now, before your tea goes tepid." For all of his fussing about, Tarace had listened to Kosara's warnings about the brandy and surreptitiously replaced Barbal's cup with good, amber tea instead. If nothing else, despite his eccentricities, he was a Halfling who looked out for those close to him.

As if to change the subject far away from whatever might or might not be happening, Barbal did respond to Kathryn's question of sweetener preference with a straightforward, "Not just now, Miss Lady. Not in the mood for it, you see. Besides, I'm sweet enough." It wasn't a great joke by far, but it was something to hopefully pass attention away from himself.

Meanwhile, Urmdrus seemed to have gotten a lot of attention. The words from Kathryn about being jealous, joking though they were, prompted a dry response of, "Get more Ankheg. Work out trade. I can make more." Truly, a Dwarf of great linguistic capacity in the Common tongue of the region. Or not.

But so far as the near-to-interrogation that Baronfjord had for him, Urmdrus could do little but attempt to explain, be it through the halting amount of the local language that he spoke. "Yes. I built other room in cellar." He clarified, "Most of the room. Stonework. Door. Locks." He took a sip from his drink, cleared his throat, and continued, "No. Don't know what you found. Know you found something. Master L'Rose tasked me. Tasked me with lot of things. Secret room, just outside original border. He said, harder to be seen there. Harder to be seen by - HIM." He let this settle for a moment, then offered, "L'Rose knew what last debt was. Why he tried to break deal. Said HE already marked final debt. Tasked me with protecting that debt, if he failed." His eyes glanced in Lizbeth's direction very briefly, inferring an explanation without actively saying anything aloud. "Can't leave for long, without finishing the deal. One way, another way. Maybe," he glanced over to Lizbeth again, "In time, strong enough. Finish things for Arnaud. Before..."

To her credit, Lizbeth still seemed involved in the very stuffs of magic. At least, she didn't seem to react openly. The same was not true for the Mosswaters; especially Tarace. He looked equal parts angry and confused, turning to Barbal to confirm, "What... the fuck did I just hear?"

"Very pretty, indeed." This last sentence was delivered after Victoria recovered her hand mirror from her belongings in the Taproom. She kept a number of items in her errand cart there, available for transport via Morty in case they had to move quickly (and because navigating that thing up exterior stairs in the winter was just begging for difficulties), and the small mirror was just the thing to ease her puzzled thoughts. She held it a best she might, angling the small, reflective device this way and that so that she may get a good glimpse of herself in the firelight.

Victoria might have liked a larger reflective surface to fully take herself in; not that her sense of vanity wasn't already present before, but there was a mote more of genuine appreciation. She was considered flawless to behold by many (including herself), having naturally surpassed the threshold of Human standards, but now, she was downright ethereal. Nothing changed about her. No details particularly sharpened or smoothed away, Victoria just seemed marginally more herself in ways that attracted and asserted. Her smile, now visible as a self-satisfied expression of contentment, became even more of a phenomenon that could inspire mortals to great - or terrible - acts of devotion.

Victoria wished she had a larger mirror to appreciate it.

But duty called, as it usually did, and the Bard had responsibilities which were greater even than her own sense of self evaluation. "The brandy, of course," she crooned melifluously. Rather than spend time setting up a potentially unnecessary Ritual spell to see if yet another Ritual was needed, Victoria deferred to one of her more recent acquisitions: the wand that could reveal magical auras. She looked at the results of the minor divination with puzzling uncertainly, remarking, "This barely reveals anything. A slim shimmer of Necromancy, but this is influence, not an effect. A polite, quiet whisper, like a subtle suggestion. There isn't enough magic to Identify." She tilted her head to the side slightly, considering possible implications, given what they already knew about the land. "How curious."

Her curiosity likely motivated her to refill her teacup with a bit more of the brandy, which ahe then appraised like a fine wine. A swirl, a quick inhale through her nose, a brief atomization over her palate as the brandy was reintroduced to her senses. In the end, she shrugged. It was fine enough brandy; very fine. Perhaps the best she had ever sampled, and there was most of a cask just sitting there. So, it was colored by necromancy. Maybe it helped to age the spirits. Or maybe it gave robust notes which were otherwise unable to manifest in the grapes. Either way, this was top shelf and she was impressed, if just a hint wary.

All of that notwithstanding, her more Wizardly work was done, and so she resolved to deal with the logistical and social issues at hand. To start, she turned her ethereal visage to Kathryn, whi had made her an offer recently. "Don't mind me, Kathryn. I know enough not to make a fool of myself when swords are drawn. My talents..." She let the sentence hang for a full second before she gave a mischievous smile, "...lay elsewhere. Besides, this is the season to make a warrior of young Lizbeth. She shall be stronger than us all, in time. I can just feel it."

Practicality moved Victoria to give a quick side mention to Urmdrus, who had just given his confession. "Master Urmdrus, given that I now have two wands and nowhere convenient to carry them, would it be too much of an ask to commission you to craft something in that regard? I have a bit of silver, of course, but I might also trade in spellwork, if you are open to it." It was one of the greatest assets of a spellcaster when dealing with skilled mundanes. Broadly, she said to the room, "Then maybe we might find homes, temporary or other, for the remaining items?" Slyly, she added, "I might be thrilled to increase my own collections, of course."

At that time, her brain put together the insinuation that Urmdrus just made about Arnaud's debt to the Prince. "I'm afraid that I agree with Tarace Mosswater, if I am understanding this correctly. 'What the fuck' indeed, sir?"

With BB agreeing about the ongoing obligations, Kathryn felt a small bit of pride. She enjoyed being appreciated for more than her ability to brute force obstacles in her path. Though she much appreciated those praises as well. Thankfully as well, it was Bb who pulled the rope on talking to Master Urmdurus. She already felt guilty about suspecting Cecily possibly having involvement, so accusing more gracious hosts wasn't something that the half giant wanted to do. While BB was interrogating the current person who may know a thing or two about the basement and the goings on of the vineyard, Kathryn was also trying her best to be a passable host for those that were visiting.

Taking the hot water, leather padding in her gloves making a great insulator, she poured tea for all that would like it! Sure, the leaves got a bit seared. Sure, there were bits through out the tea. And sure, she had no idea how to properly portion the requested sweeteners. But!!! She did in fact, serve the dictionary definition of tea. "Apologies on the wait for this, I must say I fit a little too well the stereotype of a noble woman who knows little and less on the goings on of household care." Kathryn joked trying to ease the mood. Kosara's suggestion on using fruits to act as sweeteners was actually pretty decent. Kathryn would have to keep that in mind for all future encounters with the hot leaf juice. "let us definitely plan for that in the future. I don't know if we have any fruits in stock at the moment." Kathryn said as she poured tea for the Mosswaters.

Lizbeth very much gave younger sibling vibes to Kathryn. Though not comparable to her existing siblings, Lizbeth felt much more like a sister than a squire some days. "Sweet enough yeah? Are you just trying to get me to let my guard down so you can jump me in practice again?" Kathryn asked in jest with the most comical wide eyes of suspicion towards the young lass. "Still, once you become an expert in melee, it wouldn't hurt to learn how to use your skills in tandum with one another. I have several family members who have capabilities in both blade and magic." She paused for a moment and thought about her words. "To clarify, not arcane magic like yours or Victoria's. But a form of magic none the less. Though we can save that stuff for when you can defeat me in a proper melee yeah?" Kathryn said in an almost challenging tone to her would be squire. To wrap up the topic of magic and blade training, Kathryn replied to Victoria, clearly having a blast of a conversation with her fellow students and teachers. "You know we can work on your skill with a sword? Maybe daggers? Or something in between? Who knows, maybe you have a secrete ability with a weapon of war that would surprise us all?" Kathryn said not really convinced herself, but understanding if the bard either had the skills and didn't want to share that she had them, or that maybe that she had other things to focus on rather than the ability to poke with sharp instruments.

The interrogation had gone rather... well. Disconcertingly well unfortunately. Urmdurus was in fact the one who had built the cellar below. But on top of that, he seemed to know much more than the party did about the current situation. "Tasked with the border room like the room we found? Or is there another?" Kathryn did her best to hide her hostility. But this man knew enough information to get the party a leg up on the current things, and said nothing despite the escalating stakes. When she heard some more of the details, she did her best to limit her anger towards the under dwarf. But she would be lying if she said she said she was completely sympathetic in this case. "Why didn't you come to us sooner. Especially after what happened last night?" Kathryn asked, must of her hostility gone at this point. Though a heavy amount of concern still in her voice.

When she saw what the master forger was looking at when emphasizing the deal, Kathryn's heart sank. With everything else that came together, she found herself wanting to be able to do more for the young lass. But... what else could she do? For now she could be a physical barrier for the poor teenager and anything that would want to get their hands on her. She could work on her training to make sure that no matter what came after her she would be better prepared to protect herself in case Kathryn could not shield her. "Well...." Kathryn said taking a deep breath trying to think of the words to say. "We'll find another way to complete the deal. Or we will have to find a way to let down some poor asshole that he isn't getting what he wants." Kathryn said faking her best smile, and using her most confident tone.