[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][center][img]https://i.ibb.co/WvZTwJ26/winter-vineyard.jpg[/img][/center] [center][img]https://i.ibb.co/vXD6Q0t/Update-Text.png[/img][/center][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [center][hider=Coach House][img]https://i.ibb.co/BVvx6LH2/Coach-House.jpg[/img][/hider][/center] [center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center] [u]Weather[/u]: The clouds are clouding, the cold is colding, and the flurries have gotten just a little bit heavier. The temperature continues to lower as the day deepens. We are firmly at or below freezing. [u]Time[/u]: Late afternoon. We have passed the span whereupon civilized folk recognize Teatime, though the people involved are still present. [u]Ambience[/u]: The fires begin to burn a little low within the Taproom's hearth; a situation which might easily be remedied with the addition of a few good sized splits of wood, which are readily available. The domestic folk who take care of the Coach House have been good about keeping things orderly and stocked. During the winter, these things are important. Oil lamps illuminate what tables have been in use, casting flickering shadows but holding back the gloom of the indoors with dutiful purpose. The place has all of the folksy charm of a well maintained, rural, roadside Inn, without all of those nagging customers to distract. [center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center] The interrogation of Urmdrus took on a more serious note, which the older Dwarf paid growing attention to. The gruff but detached exterior slowly began to tighten to wariness in this room full of people who had more recent combat experience that himself. Still, he attempted to address the questions he could as simply and directly as possible. [color=darkgray][b]"Tasked with the Study. In the Big House. And this one. Collect things - powdered silver, pure iron. Grave soil. Other things. Tasked to keep the little one safe. Until she could fight. Fight good."[/b][/color] Urmdrus looked to Lizbeth and spoke a short sentence in oddly accented Dwarvish, which prompted a smile and a couple of tears from the girl. Showing an apparent gift for linguistics, the younger L'Rose answered back in the same manner, though slightly halting with her words. [color=darkgray][b]"Could not talk sooner. Land has ears. Long memory. Prince... If things in Coach House, [i]HE[/i] might know things. You killed things. Safer talk now."[/b][/color] The Mosswaters took an appreciable amount of entertainment from the situation unfolding in front of them. [color=darkgray][i]"This is more exciting than the theater!"[/i][/color] confessed Tarace quietly, unsure of what direction the moment would take next. Barbal, ever the voice of practicality, waved away any potential difficulty with the inexpert teamaking skills of Kathryn, instead urging her to take a seat and watch the drama unfold. It looked like Urmdrus was in the hot seat, and he was going to take just a moment or two for the purposes of taking in the scene as it unfolded. He sipped his tea, winced only slightly, and reconsidered the sweetener. Urmdrus's now open statements about Lizbeth, coupled with that of the adventuring party, finally got to the heiress with greater clarity. The exchange between her and the Dwarf cemented her investment in the conversation as something that she could not avoid, even among a troupe of experienced warriors as she was. [color=darkgray]"I'm not going anywhere. I don't think I can go anywhere - not for long. That trip into the Township was... I don't know, some kind of exception, and I felt like I had to get back here after Grandfather was buried."[/color] Her face became grave for a moment, and she admitted, [color=darkgray]"It's been feeling urgent lately, like whatever's going to happen is coming faster. It might be why I'm pushing myself so hard with the soldier training, even if I'm not so strong."[/color] It was amazingly accurate to say that Lizbeth had been pushing herself. There were morning training sessions with Kathryn, evening training with Urmdrus, and now she had planned to explore her magic with Victoria. This was a girl of [i]almost[/i] fifteen years, still not a woman yet by the standards of the land - but not far away from it. Just over a year from that point, and the weight of being the elder L'Rose would settle on her inexperienced shoulders. The discussion went back to the Mosswaters rather abruptly, which was taken up by Barbal. [color=darkgray][b]"What we know about this place. Okay. Let's get to it."[/b][/color] He cleared his throat, and continued, [color=darkgray][b]"Roundabout every few years, there's some sort of calamity. Every region what's tucked away has things that happen, so no one ever thinks too much about it after some time passes. This thing with the Constable though... well, that was rough. But back in the day, back when Lizbeth, well,"[/b][/color] Barbal picked his words carefully, [color=darkgray][b]"When she came into her aunt's care, there were a number of people who didn't make it out of the sickness that year."[/b][/color] He motioned over to Victoria with a teaspoon, saying, [color=darkgray][b]"She's seen what happens when illness takes the area."[/b][/color] It was a flat statement, in reference to the epidemic that their local Healer treated with the help of her daughter and new student, who happened to be the party's Bard. [color=darkgray][b]"That one, back then? Wasn't natural. Like it wanted to target folks. The L'Roses lost a lot that year. Not with their business; it was one of the best growing years ever. They lost a lot, regardless."[/b][/color] Barbal looked to Baronfjord, who had specifically called them out. [color=darkgray][b]"But I'm mostly here to answer questions you got about this place or Southmoor in a general way. Open, outsider look. Voice of the people around the area sort of thing. And to bring you those Ankheg sausages I told you I would. So ask me what you need to about the area. I'm your local resource, is what I'm saying. Especially now that good, honest folks are getting their insides outsided and their skin turned into a winter coat. Damn shame about Toombes. He was a good lad. Real good lad."[/b][/color] Back near the table of wands and such, Lizbeth was slowly pulling on the supplementary pieces of armor which complemented her green, chitinous breastplate. The grapeleaf circlet slid over her hair, and she took the opportunity to recover her masterfully constructed Ankheg shield. While she was obviously still a girl, one might have caught a glimpse of the woman she might become, unless tragedy befell. Or to put it differently, she looked very grown up just then, like a child sent to a war they had no control over.