Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@GingerBoi123
Not sure that I see where you are coming from with the reasoning, but, at your preference, of course. Should you change your mind, please feel free to submit a CS. And that you for showing interest in our little adventure.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Lurking Krog

Okay ladies, gents, ladigents, and gentleladies, the Update has been Updated. As you can see, this is little more than a bump, letting you all know that I'm still alive and, for the meantime, so are all of you. If you expected an ambush or forest fire, oops. Sorry, maybe next time. I'll pencil something more exciting in for you later. For right now, we have the group doing group things.

And Rickard. He has his own drama with which he must contend.

@GingerBoi123

There is nothing about feats in the original OOC post because none of the characters presently have access to feats unless they are Human (variant).

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Juuuuust a hair away from freezing.

Time: Quite late. All the decent folk are already asleep, the rest of you reprobates who are still up and about are probably guilty of something.

Ambience: The fog remains outside, doing what it does best. Pale light from the nearly full moon diffuses through, giving barely enough light to determine where the street ends and the buildings begin (to normal sight). In some places, where the dim light catches just right, one can see silvery crystals of frost forming in the dense fog, only to disappear in the light, mercurial wind.

The interior of the L'Rose Hayloft is as it was prior; a much darker now, obviously, with what light presently available coming from the brazier in the raised area. The light coming from it is secondary to its use as a cooking area and source of radiant heat, which is mostly kept to the top area. There are several bales of packed hay here, still clean and fresh-smelling, a presently unused lamp, a few barrels, a small cart to one corner, and of course, the block and tackle lift for moving cargo from the ground to the upper level. For those up top, the belongings of Hugh the Monk are still present, as is the strategic sleeping place he set up for himself. No sign of him, however.

Down below, the light is not the best in the world, the ambient red-orange glow being the equivalent of dim lighting (being generous). One can still see well enough to navigate. Reading might pose difficulties for now. Luckily for those inside, voices which are readily discernible inside, thanks to decent acoustics. On the other hand, noise from the outside seems to be muffled. One may assume that this barrier to sound works both ways.

For now, those in the Hayloft have as much safety and privacy as one might be able to in this town. This sentence could be followed by the suffixes of "you think" or even "you hope", but such bits of heightened awareness must be tempered with the relatively sequestered nature of your little hidey-hole here in Avonshire, and the amount of alcohol some of you have consumed.

Neil & Bob's Public House

The common sleeping room of Neil & Bob's Public House is much like one would expect. Most of the beds, straw-stuffed mattresses upon simple wooden frames, are taken by locals and/or more then moderately inebriated folk. There are two small candle lamps here on opposite ends of the room, alight but burning low, as if the proprietors only use candles which burn for a short time intentionally. Chests are at the foot of each of the beds for personal belongings though it doesn't look like many of the people here are using them. If you want a decent lock for them, you'll have to bring your own.

Three beds are not in use. We will assume that Rickard got a bed early and thusly had pick of which one is his. The other two are toward the center of the room, which no one particularly wanted for reasons obvious or unobvious reasons. Somewhere in the dim, an offputting, baritone sputter erupted from one of the beds on the other side of the room. Nothing else happened at first. A couple of long, quiet seconds ticked by, followed by various groans and the throwing of nonlethal, disposable materials at the source of the offending noise. It's only a short matter of time before the invisible miasma wafts across the room and does things most foul. Be warned. Be wary. Be Prepared.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: The Hayloft Action: Prestidigitation, Note of Undeath Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Victoria gave a moment to herself to check as far as she might be able to perceive, up one side of the street and back down the other one. The feeling of being observed hadn't fully gone away since the walk back from the graveyard, and she was quite alone outside of the Public House. Her group was back in the bar behind her; stalwart yet unthinking undead companion in the loft in front of her. It was quite possible that the magic which animated the formerly living, woodsmoked beast had worn off, as she had not updated it in a while and this was required regularly. In any case, Victoria wanted the day to come to an end so the hayloft was the best option for her.

The weather was not favorable to Victoria but not unexpected by any means. Autumn had a funny way of having days which started out comfortable enough, before turning into frigid nightmares (in comparison) as soon as the sun departed. What little wind there was seemed to push the dampness of the surrounding fog into any gaps in her clothing, adding to the discomfort she felt. Getting back indoors was a priority for her just then. The door to the hayloft swung open easily enough, though she only parted it from its closed position just enough to slip inside and shut it firmly back behind her.

Victoria was not stupid. Flighty sometimes, foolhardy at others, but not stupid. As soon as she entered, she placed her back to the door and drew her slim bladed sword, giving herself the seconds necessary for her darkvision to acclimate fully to the darker interior of the structure. While Victoria waited, she extended her thoughts to the area around her. A simple mental command for her unassuming thrall to approach, which was left blankly unanswered. So Morty had un-re-animated in her absence. She made a mental note to keep better track of these things once she had the ability to weave together the more powerful, standard application of animating undead minions to have at her disposal, as that process came with an additional caveat that would make life more interesting than she really wanted, provided that she did not. Satisfied that she was alone in the loft, Victoria resheathed her sword, climbed the ladder, and made her way over to the lump of preserved meat that used to be Morty.

First things first - bring her assistant back to activity. She closed her eyes briefly, allowing a single, humming note of necrotic energy to coalesce from the ether around her and permeate the eviscerated, still body of the tusked hog before her. It came to something resembling life and jerkily (jerky-ly?) stood.

Second things second - there was a brazier and wood for burning nearby, as Cecily had pointed out earlier that day. She took a moment or two to make a simple arrangement of fuel in the brazier and called upon another of her lesser (but amazingly useful) magics to bring it ablaze. The thought passed through her mind that she really should practice more with her mundane firestarting tools which, for reasons still unknown to her, she still carried in her backpack.

As an afterthought, she used the same cantrip to remove the cosmetics from her face, including the death/tears motif she had meticulously applied earlier, and cleaned herself up a bit. Taking a couple of minutes to use Prestidigitation for personal cleanliness was useful, Victoria noted, but it was not the same sort of luxurious experience that a hot water bath could provide. Well, she could experience these little comforts at a later time, she supposed. This would have to do for now.

It wasn't very much longer that she heard the door open below on the ground floor. Cautiously, she began to edge toward the end of the loft floor overlooking the ground. A tiny giggle escaped her when she heard that it was no midnight boogeyman but Marita, returning from the Pub. Victoria straightened and made stepped into view above. "Still awake," she called down, a little smile plainly in view. "I'd much rather be getting my rest, but yes, it's probably best we talk about today." The last half of that sentence came out with tones much darker, but no less flowery of delivery. Morty emerged from the shadows to stand next to its mistress, silently and mindlessly staring straight ahead with burlap-wrapped eyes.

The others arrived, and with them came trivial, mundane questions one might associate with a simple day trip. To Kosara's inquiry, she offered, "Cecily mentioned that fresh water was stocked in those barrels over there," motioning to the bound, wooden casks to the side. "Other amenities too, like a reserved privy in the back. If we acquire some throw pillows and perhaps a staffed kitchen - maybe a nice, clawfoot tub, I might just want to establish a summer home here." Her voice was colored with dry sarcasm, but the immediately following expression of optimistic consideration gave the impression that she really didn't mind the setup here. "At least we have some privacy. So please, let us talk plainly."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@GingerBoi123

Please feel free to read the rules and guidelines at the top of the OOC and fill out a character sheet at your convenience, maybe familiarize yourself with the IC so far. That being said, I cannot guarantee a storyline appropriate opening immediately, and there is one person in consideration before you. So... yes and no.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Lurking Krog

Well hello there, Theydies and Gentlethems! (I got heat for stuff last time I attempted inclusivity, so bite me) Update is updated. You will notice that it's a little light. This is for a good reason - there aren't a whole lot of NPCs with which one may interact, nor has the setting altered from previous updates. As per usual, if you have any questions, considerations, or wish to make a roll, let me know in the Discord.

Also, if you're going to be changing your character's location, same deal. I live to serve. Or at least describe. Huzzah!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Almost freezing, but not quite.

Time: Quite late.

Ambience: The fog is still present, still limiting visibility as only a cold night next to a body of water following a mild day can. The almost-full moon diffused through it as best it could, but this is more of a suggestion of a pleasant moonlit night suitable for a stroll rather than the genuine article. The streets are dark and quiet. If one listens carefully, one might hear the muffled sounds of a local fellow scream-vomiting into a storm drain intake along the main thoroughfare. Good news, though! Someone appears to be checking on the guy, with the very clear phrasing of, "Mornin'! Nice day for fishin', ain't it? Huah huh!"

Neil & Bob's Public House

Curly gave a slightly unfocused look at his shiny new pity ale, gave a shrug, and horked it back like a seasoned professional drinker. A beer was a beer, and this was one was delivered directly in front of him. Having been bested twice by a woman didn't seem to bother him as it might other burly, masculine types. oh sure, it might have bothered him. But hey, BEER.

Lawrence and Maurice finished up their drinks in short order, paid their bill with swaying postures, belying their levels of intoxication, and staggered toward the door. The errant shout declaring the great time they had could be understood, as well as a promise to do some more partying later on with their new friend(s). But for now, it was time to go. Maurice gave a long, squinty look at the unconscious man near the door, stating, "Hey, I know this arsehat! Lives just up the way. C'mon fellas, let's drag him home."

Be it not the most comfortable method of transportation, he was moving nonetheless.

Robert was done with the evening. His voice sounded once more as he locked the booze away behind the bar, "It's time. Unless you have a bed here, GET OUT." It wasn't delivered with any particular venom, just a no-nonsense cadence loud enough to be heard by the few people which remained. The party comprised about half of those people, looking around. Steadily, feet shuffled out and away, giving their gratitudes and goodbyes where necessary. Lamps and candles, most of which were not needed now that things were closing down, were snuffed one by one as Daisy and Lea went about their work. A streak of vomit still lay by the door; nothing that a mop and bucket wouldn't make short work of.

On the outside of the Public House, things were quite settled aside from the last few people getting back home. The Hayloft stood quietly, diagonally and across the street from the Pub with its doors closed. For just a moment, a flicker of warm, orange light could be seen from a crack along the shutter of the loft's second floor, promptly righted by the shutter softly closing all the way from the inside. Across from this was the stable, quiet and shut down in the manner of an almost purely day-operating business.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Neil & Bob's Public House -> Exiting Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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The next few moments saw Victoria's psyche enter into a state of social self-defense, hoping that her natural charisma and senses of both performance and subtlety in appropriate doses allowed her to separate herself a little from the new fallout of the previous few moments. Admittedly, the first bit was her fault. Her flair for the dramatic and desire to remove the harassing obstacles from her path kicked this off, to be absolutely sure, to the point of making herself an object of suspicion moving forward. Nothing that couldn't be smoothed over by public interactions over the next day or two (she hoped); spinning a good tale about the event while making her assailants look foolish. She was marvelously good at this. But what followed, funny as it was, reminded Victoria that while she craved attention, the wrong kind of attention brought with it complications that might get someone like her run out of town or set ablaze, depending upon the overall mood of the community. This one seemed pretty laid back (mild paranoia because of disappearances notwithstanding), but she had already drawn attention to herself in a potentially very negative way. Be that as it may, it did give her an inward chuckle.

It was just about time to get herself low and quiet until morning.

When Kosara took it upon herself to explain the justification for her actions as well as launch into a tirade of misunderstandings concerning everything that was spoken aloud, Victoria's ordinarily cheery yet reserved visage began to fray at the edges, curious as to whether the Tiefling was playing some sort of joke on them or if this was truly the extent to her worldly experience. Victoria was not a font of great wisdom by anyone's stretch of their imagination, prone to acts mainstream society might deem foolish - even naive - but this line of suppositions and conclusions truly threatened to break her brain. The extroverted smile remained, but her eyes widened in disbelief and secondhand embarrassment as more and more verbiage came careening out of Kosara's mouth only to crash clumsily upon Victoria's ears. She thought to say something, anything really, but no piece of sage advice from history nor any of the teachings she could remember of the various deities of her study bore any sort of weight here.

Thankfully, this spell was broken by the expedient arrival of Victoria's order. One benefit of having an extremely limited, batch-produced menu was that minimal preparation was necessary. By extension, the wait time for her meal was also minimal. In this case, long enough to ladle it into a bowl and top it with a piece of coarse milled bread. A spoon might also have been involved, as the general consensus of the employees was that Victoria was a fancy lady, presumably of culture, who was probably accustomed to the cosmopolitan use of a spoon. To their credit, they weren't wrong. This wasn't the upscale sort of repast that the might have gone for in her home city, but an adult life spent on the road gave her some appreciation (read: tolerance) for varied qualities of cuisine, if this can be referred to candidly as cuisine. But it smelled good. A quick sampling unveiled that it tasted pretty good, too.

After that first taste, the lack of food she had consumed over the last several hours became apparent to her, evidenced to her by a sudden audible complaint from her stomach. She paused briefly to listen to Kathryn and her later plans for wine, and how this related to her money. This was the really expensive stuff, she realized. Well, it was only money. It's not like she couldn't find more. A silent shrug, that same smile but tinged with patience, and she nodded her assent. It was a brief agreement that, once made, allowed her to devote her attention to the bowl in front of her. The delicate young Half-Elf devoted the next few moments of time to destroying the contents therein, deftly using said spoon like a maestro conducting a meaty orchestra, its finale coming with gravy blotted away by rough bread and likewise consumed. When she finished, Victoria looked around to see if anyone had noticed her. An involuntary belch piped out of her, small and high-pitched, followed by a satisfied giggle.

Thusly ended Victoria's desire to remain within the walls of Neil & Bob's Public House. The budding conversation about potential pregnancy was not one she wished to be a spectator of, let alone take part. V was done. She drained the wine in her glass, gave a lingering look back in Lea's direction, then addressed her group (plus Rickard). "This has been just a lovely evening. Thank you all for being a part of it. But a lady needs her beauty rest and I have to feed Morty, so, I'm taking Marita's advice and retiring. Gentlemen, ladies; good evening." Victoria twirled her cloak about her shoulders, took up her oh-so-jaunty hat and placed it upon her head with a flourish, slung her violin case across her back like a seasoned professional, and made for the door with a confident gait.

Victoria stepped over the once-again unconscious lump of a Human on the floor, unwilling to give him more thought than it took to avoid tripping over his limbs, and exited the premises. A brief muddling of colder temperatures drifted in as the door opened and closed, leaving the Bard seemingly alone in the foggy night.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan

Sure, go right ahead.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Neil & Bob's Public House, Bar Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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Well, Victoria did say that the guy on the floor deserved worse. Part of her felt that this might have been too much. This part was quiet within her as other, less forgiving elements of her psyche narrowed her eyes and brought a dark smile to her face. It was small; it was subtle. But the mirth at the man's suffering was apparent to one watching closely. The young Half-Elf had to stop herself from swaying her hand back and forth, as if conducting an invisible orchestra playing the man's tortured screams. Victoria did not believe the assault was necessary, having already done her part to traumatize the ruffian for his transgressions against her, but was not going to protest this with any real conviction.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, Victoria gave a shade of thought to the far-flung possibility of the man slipping into the Great Hereafter from the shock to his body, and if his body might be claimed in a lawful manner (owing to her promise to the Cleric) for her own curiosities. They even had access to a very nice, richly appointed coffin This thought was shaken off quickly, however. As much of a villian as he had played this night, he very likely had a family that would want better for his earthly remains. Maybe she could even perform the ceremony...

Present reality summoned Victoria's attention. This was most likely a good thing. It was Kosara, positively gushing about her evening. At first, the Bard cleared her mind and readied to take in any information that Kosara might have picked up in the course of her investigation so far this evening. V soon discovered that, instead of trying to find leads, she had gotten herself into a bit of fun. The Half-Elf kept her face neutral, carefully taking another small sip of her wine. Responding to her question, Victoria carefully explained, "Adventures, no. Not really. I interred Monsieur L'Rose in accordance with his wishes. Or, his family's." That last addition was because, not knowing the man, he had to trust what his daughter-in-law and granddaughter had told her. "It doesn't sound like I had as much fun as you did. But it was rewarding." She kept the odd feeling of being watched on her way back to town out of the conversation, at least for now. "Several bottles of local vintages were donated on behalf of the bereaved." If nothing else, they would be flush on wine for a while. The extreme openness with which Kosara initiated camaraderie with this Elf in front of them was a gamble, to Victoria's estimation. Time would see if it paid off.

But speaking to wine, Victoria looked on almost expectantly as Kathryn picked up the entire rest of the decanter of the very expensive wine, waiting quietly for the imminent glug-fest which was to occur. There was a tiny amount of disappointment about the sudden switch to ale, but that was probably a pragmatic decision, considering the potency difference. As the tall, powerful woman selected and motioned to her with her beverage of choice, Victoria smiled and raised her cup slightly in a silent toast before sipping once again herself. Draining a full glass was not her style. Polite imbibing in answer to a collective invitation to drink, however, was.

Victoria glanced about to make sure that she still had a line of sight to Marita, just to confirm that her adventuring group was fully present. Satisfied, she directed her attention back to their new acquaintance, Rickard. She still wasn't sure what to make of him, even if they had a similar reason to be in town. Some of this was a willingness to put up money for perfect strangers. Some of it was the way he carried and described himself. She might have labelled it as youthful exuberance except that he was much older than the rest of them, thanks to his heritage. Perhaps it was just exuberance. "I have a nice, warm spot to stay this evening, thank you," she said in response to Rickard's inquiry.

Looking around for the barmaid, she absently continued, "I could really go for a bowl of something warm, though..." She had neglected to find much at all to eat since that pear she purchased on the way into the Township initially.

Catching Lea's eye, Victoria blushed slightly and gave her a little wave. A demure smile crossed her lips when the Human lady approached her and V addressed her with a sweet, melodic voice, "Hi... The man said it was last call for food?" She paused, nodding, eyes falling upon hers. Her smile broadened into something more warm and welcoming, voice developing into nigh hypnotic tones, "I would absolutely love anything you could bring me, this late in the evening, please." The Bard gently took Lea's hand and placed the requisite coins into it, and carefully closed it back. "Thank you so much."

When the cheerful barmaid left to procure the stew, last batch of the evening, Victoria let out a short, frustrated sigh. It was quickly covered over by her practiced, cultured demeanor. "I think rest should be in order soon," she mused. It had been a day.