[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell]
[h2][color=darkorchid][i][b]Victoria Belmont[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=9932cc]Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5[/color][/b][/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 33 / 33	[color=9932cc][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 16	[color=9932cc][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] On The Road 
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] Spellcasting [i](Prestidigitation)[/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] [color=black][b]Morty[/b][/color], [color=dimgray][b]Nox[/b][/color]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[/cell][cell]
[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/G4Q5dMgC/Victoria-Twilight-Screenshot.png[/img][/right]
[/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center]

	As the wagon came to a stop, Victoria was already removing herself from it, stepping deftly out of the back. She remembered this spot from what seemed like a long while ago, but in reality had only been a matter of weeks. A handful of weeks, yes, but not so long ago from an objective standpoint. The place was greener then, and tiny, gorgeous wildflowers bloomed nearby. Such was winter, she supposed. 

	Shooing that thought away, Victoria committed herself to the task she volunteered for. There was water in the back of the wagon, and feed for the frosty mule, which required her to turn back around and begin precariously sliding it toward her, eventually getting the appropriate containers to the edge of the wagon. Feeding Old Boy was easy enough; the bland but nourishing assortment of dry roughage could be easily set into a feedbag and hung for him, but water posed some difficulties. It had to be warm, or half of her problem would remain. Pulled from the well, it was insulated somewhat by distance underground. The same qualities which kept it a constant, cool temperature during the hotter months also kept it a constant, cool temperature during the winter, That is [i]cool[/i], not [i]frozen[/i]. At least, not past an inch or two. But being stored in a barrel on the surface allowed more cold to seep in, causing a more robust layer of ice to form. What liquid water remained was undeniably not the temperature she, and by extension the mule, needed. Victoria poured a measured amount into a waxed, canvas bag especially for the purpose, and reached out a tendril of magic with a quiet, melodic, humming vocalization. 

	Not hot, but importantly, not cold. A mote of magic to draw out the smallest, yet most utilitarian of effects was enough to bring the temperature of the water just enough to make it give off wisps of steam against the winter air. The mule seemed immensely happy to get this. Being kind, and wishing for Old Boy to take in as much water as possible, Victoria extended another, similar mote of magic to flavor the water with notes of sweet apples. 

	With the horse fed, watered, and warmed, Victoria took a few steps back to review how Baronfjord was handling his tasks. Not that the Bard was any great zoological scholar, having merely a passing familiarity with handling animals as her training was mostly centered around driving wagons, carts, and the like, and seeing to their requirements. She knew some pressing basics about their care and nothing more. But she could spot a decent enough job being done. [color=9932cc]"Oh absolutely, Baronfjord. The past weeks have shown a remarkable improvement. If we are still in each other's company after the snows break, it will be nice to have another person to entrust with the reins. Excellent job."[/color] She smiled, despite the weather smartly coloring her cheeks, then returned the feeding gear back into the wagon. 

	Then she began to really regard the contents of the wagon. For the first half of the day, Victoria had been engrossed in the new books on anatomy and physical trauma that she had to replicate. It was riveting stuff. Far and away a different field of study than she ever figured she would have involved herself with as a Bard. But here she was, committing to this new intellectual pursuit because knowledge for the sake of knowledge was important, it helped pass the time over the winter (aside from the horrifying events of the land), and more importantly to Victoria, [i]skill with medicine and anatomy would make her better with practical Necromancy.[/i] Of course, she would never tell Annick this. But concerning the contents of the wagon, she remarked, [color=9932cc]"We have been carrying this coffin since before you joined us, Baronfjord. It contained Arnaud L'Rose for a very short amount of time, then a Goblin who felt it best to steal his wine, eat his corpse, and fall asleep in his coffin."[/color] She gave a wry laugh, continuing, [color=9932cc]"I'm a Funerary Violinist and an adventuring Bard. I'd be foolish not to write a song about the Coffin Goblin."[/color]

	Victoria shook her head, continuing to review the bits of collective, land-based flotsam and jetsam which had accumulated in the wagon. Then she paused, gave it a bit of thought, and came to a personal conclusion. [color=9932cc]"I wish to officially claim the coffin. Madame L'Rose doesn't want it back, after ...everything, and Lizbeth doesn't seem to want a thing to do with it. There are a lot of interesting things one can do with a fine piece of carpentry like this. If nothing else, I'm willing to bet it's a warm spot for a nap."[/color] The thought gave her pause, but just for a moment. [color=9932cc]"It's a bit macabre, I know. It does seem like a waste, otherwise."[/color] How she might transport it without the use of the wagon was beyond her at the moment, basically securing her position with the group for the time being if she did feel strongly about keeping it. Though, the idea that it was a warm spot to rest did ping the idea-oriented section of her psyche. She might be onto something there. 

	The thought was shaken away by the avian intonations of her Raven, who returned from the sky to settle on the wagon near to her. It brought Victoria's attention to her surroundings to the forefront, which was where it ought to have been in the first place. They were being approached. Nary a traveler had they seen for miles, and this one was arriving on foot. Armed. With a very dangerous-looking moustache. Victoria gave a glance in Baronfjord's direction and cleared her throat in a conspicuous manner to alert him to the approach, if he hadn't already noticed for himself. She then assumed a genial, even welcoming expression and posture. There was no sense in being inhospitable and/or rude to people she hadn't even met yet. All the same, she kept her instrument handy and her voice clear in case there was an insurmountable issue in their immediate future. 

	He stopped. She smiled. He greeted, noting the statement of the time of day - Afternoon, as it was, with "good" being the implication. Victoria gestured her hand in a sweeping motion offering up the landscape and weather as a response. With a hint of joviality in her voice, she answered, [color=9932cc]"Most certainly is, is it not?"[/color]

	The next three words from the stranger came as a coincidence, seeing as he had named the location from where they had began their journey back to the Township. [color=9932cc]"Oh, the vineyard? You're on the right road. It's just past Southmoor, but I don't believe you'll get there before dark. Best of luck to you, of course."[/color]