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[center][hider=L'Rose Hayloft][img]https://i.ibb.co/hWRvhS4/Hay-Barn.jpg[/img][/hider][/center]
[center][hider=Coach House][img]https://i.ibb.co/BVvx6LH2/Coach-House.jpg[/img][/hider][/center]
[center][hider=Vineyard Estate][img]https://i.ibb.co/yRk60Zg/Vinyard-Estate-Gridded-Day-Lv4.jpg[/img][/hider][/center]
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	[u]Weather[/u]: Winds remain slow and steady; less of a gust and more of a steady stroll of current, stopping every so often as if to admire the scenery. The skies are half covered with high atmospheric clouds which move quickly across its black, starlit backdrop, regularly allowing the moon to evade direct detection.  
  
   	[u]Time[/u]: It is early nighttime. We have passed the final moments of twilight, and now rely upon the half-covered celestial bodies above to light the way. It took a little longer upon the roads than expected, and travelers find themselves within the boundaries of their intended destinations after true night had fallen.  
 
	[u]Ambience[/u]: Snow-covered hills make up the majority of the landscape. Even within the area of the Rose River Vineyard, this is mostly the case. Perhaps this helps to make structures stand out even more against the background; what can be seen when moon and stars make their way through the growing cloud cover. The Estate House stands out more than anything else, despite the drifts of snow which softened the bottom most portion of its silhouette. The largest building upon the land for a long way around, and only a couple of lights from within visible. Rows and rows of silent, sleeping grape vines upon frames have collected their own drifts of pale, frozen precipitation, forming strange, elevated lines across acres and acres of cultivated farmland. 

	Back in the Coach House, things seem a touch more homey. One would never have imagined that a life-and-death struggle took place here just the previous night. But the location is stocked full (and recently) with basic foodstuffs, preserved goods, lamp oil, and firewood. Bedclothes are changed and a general sense of tidiness has been restored, should there have been any untidiness to speak of. Only clothing that was set aside for the purposes of laundering have been appropriated by the domestic staff, one hopes temporarily. And the appropriate containers in the kitchen and behind the bar have been cleaned and refilled with well water. 

	The Hayloft was much as one would remember it. With winter on, it felt colder, darker, forgotten almost, even though it clearly was still being used to deal with the L'Rose family's business needs. These needs were significantly less during the winter months, and so things were pretty much as the party left it. Tightly fitted wooden boards were painted red-brown toward the exterior, with indoor facing wood either minimally treated or left as open, sanded wood. A ladder allowed access to the top loft, where the vast majority of the baled hay was rotated and stored. In this higher level, the metal brazier which once kept the party warm and cooked the occasional meal was still present, along with a meager amount of wood for fuel which hadn't been used from the hayloft's previous occupancy - and probably was only enough for one night. The block-and-tackle platform system remained here as well, capable of moving light cargo or deftly maneuvering multiple bales of packed hay from the ground to the loft, and vice versa. Upon the ground floor set very little, comparatively. It was the place where wagons loaded or unloaded bales, and so was kept mostly open, with water barrels and downstacked hay, and a smallish cart for moving light supplies. Large doors opened at each end of the building on the ground level which thankfully could be shut and barred from the inside, and one large, swinging door in the loft which was presently slightly ajar. In short, there were much better places to hole up during a winter night, but there were far worse options as well.    
	
[center][color=darkgray][h2]*****[/h2][/color][/center]

	The brief exchange with the soldier ended with the equally brief exchange of information.  [color=darkgray]"Never got a name,"[/color] he replied to Baronfjord as he waved in their vehicle. [color=darkgray]"Tall fellow. Big moustache."[/color]

	From inside Avonshire, one could not see the occupying caravan. It looked quite like business as usual, for the most part. The Township was obviously still getting over the incidents at Harvestide, in the way of the people as well as the physical scars of the fighting. People weren't very quick to get into conversations with one another, at least not like they used to. And with the corruption of the town guards, the responsibility of law and order fell to an all too small detachment of soldiers of the realm, instead. Everyone, including the soldiery, hoped this was temporary. The path to the Hayloft didn't quite take the intrepid adventurers to the town center, where the big fight took place, but it wouldn't be a long walk to get there, were one to have a nostalgic moment about it. 

	Arrival at the Loft served as a reminder that other businesses were present in the area, specifically the farrier and stables run by a Human fellow named Fields, and next to that, the enigmatic hub of their previous adventure, Neil & Bob's Public House. Fields, a man in his middle years who looked like he was in desperate need of a shave and change of shirt, was toward the front of his establishment near where he would hammer horseshoes, seemingly packing up for the night. Over at the public house, lights were on and a little foot traffic could be seen entering and exiting. They obviously would be open for a ways longer, owing to their choice of business and clientele. 

	Back in Southmoor, the Family Toombes seemed content with the offering of wine and silver, the elder Mssr. Toombes beginning a word of protest at the [i]need[/i] for a gift before he was shushed by other family members. The silver was already accepted, but the wine on top of it, well intended, might have been a little bit much, or at least a touch insisted upon by circumstance for a family of common means. It was not usual for someone of bearing to offer up fine wine, but there was an understanding that the customs of the area were not intimately known by the tall lady, and it was improper of him to make a correction. Instead, he voiced a polite word of gratitude and left it at that. 

	The passing of time and light travel brought the reunion of people back in the Coach House, and the preparation of food at the outset of full nighttime. Prior to entering, Lizbeth responded to her mentor's words of warning, stating, [color=darkgray]"If you prefer, I can stay here. If it's my choice, then I'll... well, I'll make it in the morning, okay?"[/color] She did seem of two minds about the whole thing, and genuinely looked like she was weighing her options. Inside, with the smell of cooking, she had a reaction similar to Kathryn and her sudden, horse-eating desire. A growl escaped her stomach that mere politeness could not force back down, and when asked if she needed anything, Lizbeth answered in a quiet voice, [color=darkgray]"I could really go for some bread and butter while we wait, if you don't mind, please."[/color] Lizbeth slumped in a chair at first, then rose once more to unbuckle her swordbelt and lay the whole apparatus, weapon and all, upon the table in front of her.