Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: The day is beginning to look overcast; a sheet of building, atmospheric white starting to crowd out the clear blue of the open sky. The wind carries a bit of a chill to it still, this unchanged from the previous hours. It remains a welcome relief from the previous night. Short form - wear a good jacket. Cloaks are nice, too. Stylish, even.

Time: Early to mid morning. This is about the time that people have finished doing what personal business they might have and turned their efforts toward more professional pursuits. A few more festival visitors, emboldened by the increased activity, have ventured into the more public places of the Township.

Ambience: Vision is open and unlimited, the fog having been burned away by the brighter rays of the sun just before the sky became more overcast. Parts of the town are still quiet, as suits their druthers, but others are much more active. The Traders' Market is much more lively now, as goods are moved to and from boats, carts, and the like for transport. Money is changing hands in this beating, economic heart of Avonshire proper. The Farmers' Market is likewise coming to full activity. One close by might hear hawkers a'hawking the fruits of agricultural labor (literally and figuratively) as well as the sounds of tools at work. Individual bartering sessions are had among the working classes. Tents, used as cheap lodging by many, are being vacated for the day. The overnight buildup of litter is likewise being handled here, and the smell of smoking meat hangs heavily in the air, gusting with the capricious winds.

Brindleton's Woodworking

The interior of the woodworker's shop remained as still and quiet as it ever was, with the only noise coming from the pair of adventuring types within its walls. There was a seeming pause as Victoria pointed out the tuft of stringy hair caught on the door lock. Rickard took note of this for a moment, and instead of moving to get a closer inspection as his thoughtful expression might have suggested, the highborn Elf darted back toward the work area within the building. There wasn't an explanation given for the behavior, nor the sudden, voluntary removal of himself from the side entrance except for a genuine but rushed apology, describing a need to hastily look into something by himself.

Meanwhile, Marita had decent success taking in the sights and posing the occasional question to local folk who might have seen Victoria about town. It wasn't very hard, considering the fact that her style of dress was unusual for the area, her accent was foreign, and she had some of the most strikingly appealing features that these people had seen in their lives. The fact that she carried a sword and violin made her stand out, as well. Suffice it to say, it wasn't very long until Marita caught full view of a sign on a warehouse structure in the northwestern part of town which indicated that this was indeed the building that belonged to the man Rickard was speaking about the night before.

This is confirmed almost immediately when a very surprised Victoria opens the door to see the Cleric standing there. The look of surprise on her face is evident; this was very likely not expected.

Jacques Mallard, Silversmith

As the case was plead through the door, attracting even more attention from the morning passersby, a small gathering of locals began to form on the street nearby. There was a muffled sound of something falling to the floor behind the closed portal, followed by an equally muffled, "Damn it all!" A few more seconds pass and the voice roars again, "FINE! BACK UP A STEP." There is a note of exasperation in these words.

A wooden sliding sound and a similar hollow thump followed; astute observers might understand that this was a heavy beam used to bar the door against all but the most aggressive of cattle, fitting the standard of establishments which dealt in precious metals. Ominously, ponderously, the heavy wooden door began to open. It only came open a little bit, showing a dim orange light from inside. A silhouette of a tallish form can be made out amid the glow, pulling the door open just enough to allow one to pass.

Upon entering, before one has the opportunity for their eyes to adjust to the sudden change in lighting, the voice makes itself known again, this time quieter but no less strained. "You have a loaded crossbow pointed at you. Before you do anything else, there are two rings on top of the storage box to your right. Each of you place one of them on your tongue, and let me see you do it. Inspect them however you wish, but do it right now. That, or leave immediately. Anything different and I squeeze this trigger. Understand?"

The few seconds that it took to deliver this threatening monologue allowed for better adjustment to the lighting. The man holding the crossbow looked haggard. Tired in a profound way, and nervous. Red rimmed eyes glared with desperate seriousness from above unkempt facial hair that looked like it might have been well cared for, up until recently. The air in shop itself was comfortably warm, if a bit stuffy, and the source of the orange glow is apparent - to one side of the open shop interior is a small pot forge containing a respectable amount of molten metal, under which rested a flameless heat source, putting off light as a hot bar of forge-steel might. The rest of the shop did little to resemble a silversmith's, except for a number of showpieces on a table near the front door. The shelves along the walls were mostly barren, and the main counter had upon it weapons. Simple ones, to be sure, but effective nonetheless. Daggers, a spear, and another crossbow. Behind the counter sat a well made couch, upon which was discarded a blanket and couple of pillows that did not match the furniture, themselves. There were other things here, scattered about almost haphazardly; snatches of writings and various items that looked more at home in an alchemist's or talismonger's shop than one who works jewelry and keepsakes.

His stern words pull you back to his initial bidding, "Quick about it! Ring, tongue, now."

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: Brindleton's Woodworking Action: Perception Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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It was curious to Victoria that the workshop was in the state that it was. Not that she was the most fastidious of people as it came to keeping things tidy, being somewhat reliant upon minor magics of Prestidigitation for her personal needs in this regard. It was still irksome, leaving a job half-finished. The implications, were this a "foul play" scenario, were uncertain to her. In any case, she made sure that the Elf she was presently investigating with noticed it, too.

Just as curious was the fact that she was able to pick up on the detail of the stringy tuft of hair on the interior door lock. Victoria had an inquisitive and detail-oriented mind if she was actively putting effort toward surveying a scene or gathering clues. On the other hand, her attention could be more easily drawn away by shiny objects or the erratic movements of a passing butterfly if she wasn't actively attempting to investigate. Her animated swine might have had better luck with catching a random detail like that than herself. In fact, Victoria took a quick look down to her hickory-smoked companion with the off chance that it was looking in the general direction of ...something important... only to have an expected dose of mild disappointment due to the fact that this creature was only slightly less mindless than a bowl of oatmeal, and thusly had nothing to add in any spontaneous manner.

So she peered at it from a pace or two away, still hanging stuck on the door. Her following words sounded absent, hollow, as if they were not in unison with the thought foremost in her mind, "Yeah... I'll ask some questions around." That was her forte, after all. She mentally filed away the presence of this fuzzy anomaly, wondering if maybe it should be collected, or was better off where it lay.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Attention once again my guys, gals, and theyfolk - the Update has been Updated. Information has been discovered and/or hinted at, and possible paths have opened for those that feel like hazarding courses of action based upon the clues provided. Best of luck.

Now, an announcement: Due to factors social and practical involving members of our jolly little gang of D&D miscreants, I am giving a free week to everyone for posting. The week of the Fourth, point of fact. If you feel like getting a post in during this time, no worries. You will still have the extra time. Or that aside, if you want to just take the time off, go for it. To put it simply, you now have 14 days to post instead of the usual 7 for this cycle.

Please send me any questions or concerns in our Discord.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: A few more clouds rolling in. The wind is gusting every so often, pushing the not intolerably damp, chill air into the clothing of those who have taken to the streets. This is certainly not swimming weather, to put it lightly. At least it is more comfortable than the previous evening.

Time: Morning! Yes, still morning, which is fortunate. Were it not, we would have either traveled back in time or lost a number of hours for which we would need accounting. In any case, we are entering the the portion of the morning where people are becoming more active. At the present, it looks to be a collection of locals going about their business. The more celebratory of visitors to this town have not entered the town proper nor moved from underneath roofs in numbers notable enough to really make a difference.

Ambience: Fog is almost a memory now. For the purpose of mechanics, vision is unobstructed. The sun is a bit shinier now, though incoming cloud cover blunts its warming rays every now and again. Noise can be heard more clearly from the Farmers' Market as those who have business there move about. To the northeast in town, poles and oars in water herald the arrival of goods, raw and worked, to the Traders' Market area of the Township. Avonshire as a whole is waking up and greeting a new day, for now minus the many, many excess festival goers.

Neil & Bob's Public House

The response from Lea, addressing Marita's news that she would likely not be returning for a shift that evening, was met with understanding and a more-or-less upbeat demeanor. "Well that's okay. At least stop back by if you can. I'll treat you to a bowl of hot stew and a glass of something nice."

Robert finished his ale, likely a weaker portion of his reserves (or an Avonshire "Morning Ale", to the locals) in a long pull and moved his dishes to the kitchen. He returned immediately to set up in his usual spot behind the bar. It was remarkably good timing, too, as the man who had run outside just returned, and the greater amount of the overnight guests filed out of the common room; maybe a dozen in total. Most found their ways to the vacant tables, but a few found their way to the bar proper, hoping to chase their maladies with the familiar medicine of fermentation.

Before Lea stepped away to see to her morning duties with these people, she answered Marita. "Andre. Hmm, well..." An uneasy look crossed her face for a moment, and she continued, "Mr. Dufour isn't a very nice man sometimes. I wouldn't call him the 'town drunk'. He does drink a lot though. Um... hmm. I heard he was reported missing after being here, but I didn't do it and I don't think Robert did either. Then again, we're not the only place that sells wine and there are other places that are open even later than we are." She waved quickly to someone at the bar, hastening to attend the clientele. "Excuse me for a moment, please. Hey, can I get you anything while you're here?" She seems open and outgoing, if preparing herself for the drudgery of a hangover shift. (Theirs, not hers.)

Brindleton's Woodworking

The interior of the Woodworker's abode/place of business remained quiet. It is tucked away from the major thoroughfares and thusly much of the noise that might arise from the Township's general awakening, and the building was quite open except for the living area up the stairs. This did have the effect of amplifying smaller noises in within its stone walls, at least now that it was only Rickard and Victoria (and Morty) within.

Unfortunately, there was not a whole lot to be gleaned from the building. To the best of their ability to suss out details, everything looked as it was left the last time Rickard has entered the location, with the exception of Victoria's discovery that the place looked like it had been poorly cleaned. Between that and the unlocked door, it raised questions. Just none they could answer at that time.

Yet, even in seeming defeat, one might realize that questions, however off they might have been, could lead to other, more potentially lucrative questions. Or horrifying red herrings set as stumbling blocks. Victoria's perceptive abilities (not something she was especially known for) key in on an odd detail. The locking mechanism on the inside of the door was adorned with a scraggly tuft of grey-brown hair, hanging listlessly at the mercy of any passing air currents. Curious, the Bard pointed it out to Rickard with a quizzical expression.

Jacques Mallard, Silversmith

Interior Image Not Unlocked Yet

The repeated knocking on the main door of the Silversmith's had not gone unnoticed. In fact, the few (but growing) number of locals milling about on foot had stopped, very interested in figuring out what this growing commotion was along the main road, just across from the mercantile area of town, might possibly be. The unwanted attention and incessant noise along the front door culminates in a loud, seemingly desperate voice from the inside loudly proclaiming:

"CAN'T YOU READ? WE ARE CLOSED FOR THE FESTIVAL! PISS ALL THE WAY OFF!"

Oh, but that got the crowd's attention.

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 -> Brindleton's Woodworking Action: Investigation Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Before exiting Neil & Bob's, Victoria made it a point to walk over to Marita and quietly intone that the two of them would be headed in the direction of their new associate's friend's business. "The missing fellow he spoke about last night - Brindleton? We're going to investigate there before the Dressmaker's shop opens." She took care to speak barely above that which was necessary to clearly hear from a distance close to the Cleric's ear. Sparing a wink and a shy smile in Lea's direction, Victoria departed. Morty dutifully followed behind, as only her loyal, animated stew ingredient might.

Seeing as the area directly west of Neil & Bob's was the Farmers' Market, and they had toured that area of town already without seeing signs of a carpenter's full work area, it made sense that their journey would take then to a spot they hadn't been to, the northwest quarter of town. To attempt expedience, the Bard utilized the main roads; first north, then a solid left at the big fountain in the town center. It soon became apparent that their presence was gathering attention. Victoria hoped it didn't have too much to do with the display she put on the last night.

Victoria was no stranger to people's whispers and stares. It was pretty much to be taken for granted, though it was interesting to note that many of the same ones who spoke about her in hushed tones, and from afar, would smile longingly at her and engage in some of the most saccharin conversation to her face. Man, woman, or indeterminate middle, it seemed to make no difference. People were duplicitous. Much of this could be shaken off, as from Victoria's experience this was the way of the world, but there was one thing she noticed above the others that morning, which gave her a small shot of adrenaline: A local talking to a guard and pointing in her direction. That stopped the horse in its tracks, so to speak. Not for the Bard herself, though. She was ever the entertainer, recognizing that this was not her cue to cease walking nor make a scene. Practiced nonchalance forced concerns of harassment by the constabulary from reaching her face and she carried on, her and Morty both. It was easier for Morty, being a mindless animation wrapped in utility cloth.

Whatever luck could be had from the situation visited them, as no pursuit was apparent. The walk to the workshop was not eventful, despite her little scare. In contrast to the main streets, there was very little foot traffic here. Victoria hoped that this would be a help, as opposed to a hindrance. A lack of people usually was, to her experience, unless she was in the middle of more professional, musical pursuits. That was not the order of the hour, so, less attention was better.

Victoria was genuinely surprised to see that the door stood unlocked. She spared a glance in Rickard's direction as if to ask him a question, but verbalized nothing. Entry to the location was a foregone conclusion if they were to pursue an investigation, so with a hand on her sword hilt and a song in her heart (as potentially dangerous a proposition as an archer notching an arrow), Victoria entered.

Her inquisitive eyes adjusted to the differing light conditions and she peered around, taking note of the furniture and tools here. Different styles of furniture were present, one which looked a little more familiar to her than the local goods. She noted the short stairway, and the overlooking walk. Victoria noticed a great many things during her initial walkaround, most of which she kept to herself for the moment. She did bring one fact she had gleaned from the building's interior, "This place... It looks like someone tried to clean it up recently. Badly." Sure enough, there were recent sweeping marks in the work area and the floor around it, marred dust of the regular and saw varieties, and things put away put not quite with perfect placement. "This looks like a petulant child was told to clean his room, and intentionally did a poor job to end the task quickly." What this element meant, if anything at all, could not be sussed out immediately by Victoria.

And Morty ...just kind of stood there.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

And now, the game's afoot! Or a-hand. Or a-whatever. Anyway, update is posted.

Regardless of which part of one's anatomy this game is, it's progressing. As it sits, the group is divided into three sections, with Kosara and Kat at or near the Silversmith's, Victoria and Rickard re-inspecting the Woodworker's, and Marita addressing existing leads at Neil & Bob's Public House with new questions to suss out any meaning or connections. There can potentially be information gathered by all three courses of action, depending upon courses of action and the luck of the occasional die roll.

I must admit a sense of personal curiosity as to what the characters will get into. And if it helps matters any, I have been lacing previous updates with clues. And red herrings. As per usual, if you have any questions or wish to put a roll in, please send me a private message in Discord and I will get to you as soon as work and life allows.

Thank you ever so much, and let the festivities commence.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Partly cloudy, wind picking up a little. a chill still lingering in the air. The temperature is not described as "comfortable" by most. It would be charitable to say that it is brisk; coupled with the ambient moisture things would go a lot easier for folks wearing a decent jacket. In any case, it is much more tolerable than it was the previous night.

Time: Morning! People are being a tad more active now.

Ambience: The sun hangs a little brighter now, banishing most of the fog from the previous number of hours. It exists almost exclusively as a vague whiteness in the background. Folks are stirring, and not just the earliest of risers anymore. Be it that there might very well be a number of persons nursing hangovers of various depths and qualities, most of those being out-of-towners, there are a reasonable numbers of locals who are seeing to their own needs before opening their shops and other businesses to the public. People who live in town and work in the may surrounding farms have pretty much cleared out, as it would be with every notable settlement in an agricultural region. A wind cut in from the west, bearing with it the scent of smoke and roasting pork. It seemed that the gentlefolk who are competing for best hog-broil are still at it, and have yet to let up on their extremely slow but steady cooking techniques.

Neil & Bob's Public House

Lea and Marita involved themselves in a short conversation. This was overheard by Robert, still at the bar and still trying hard to be left to his own business. The proprietor turned his head just enough to get a view of Lea and the work she had accomplished so far, and satisfied that his employee was adequately keeping up with her duties regardless of conversation, turned back around. His breakfast is finished, bowl sitting empty in front of him. His ale now takes his attention.

In contrast to many places which might be getting more business, The Public House is actually losing walk-in business. They didn't have but a few in there to begin with, and now there are only two tables with two people each, not including the soon to be vacated table at which Ricard and Victoria are seated. None of those present appear to need anything from Lea or from behind the bar, having been taken care of just earlier. This might be subject to change soon, as the relative quiet of the taproom is marred by movement from in the common sleeping room. People are starting to wake up, and they will want things.

About the same time, the scent of freshly brewed tea issued from the kitchen area, mingled with another batch of bread. Daisy is keeping herself busy, obviously, and has decent anticipation of the coming rush of people, however minor it might be. Sure enough, the common room door swung slowly open to admit a single, hungover gentleman with a zombie-like gait. He squints at the difference in brightness, shielding his eyes for a moment before a sudden sensory indication had him tearing out of the door nearest the exterior privy. More promised to enter the room shortly.

Brindleton's Woodworking

The walk to the woodworking shop was not so bad. It wasn't a very large town after all, even though their destination was in the northwest quadrant, opposite of Neil & Bob's. As with Kosara and Kathryn, there are townsfolk who stop and give a stare in the direction of the Elf and Half-Elf, rare enough sights in these parts, as they pass by. One fellow said nothing, but gave a long, concentrated look as he emptied a bucket of something-or-other into one of the regular openings to the Township's storm drains.

One couple was obvious in action, moving to put themselves between their young child and the two adventurers. The presence of the walking feast centerpiece that was Morty probably didn't help matters any. It surely didn't help when an older lady carrying a basket stopped to have a short conversation with one of the few town guards under the Constable's employ, pointing in their general direction somewhere in the middle of it. But in the end, no one approached Rickard and Victoria directly. The moment was left with questions, whispers, and bits of rumor circulating rather than anything of substance.

Approaching the woodworker's shop, things were a little quieter. The owner must have expected to make a fair amount of noise on occasion while plying his craft, and so the building selected for their purposes was a bit back from the main thoroughfare, nearer to the wall. The building itself is constructed of stone, for the most part, and from the outside has the appearance of a warehouse with a small barn attached to it. There is an entrance at the "barn", as well as larger, cargo styled doors toward the front of the warehouse section.

The door, unlocked, opens without so much as single creaking protest.

Inside, one can see that the "barn" area is actually an attached workshop, open to the main building. Here one can see the signs of work recently being done to a bed frame, specifically a forest scene a little over helfway carved into it. Tools, unworked wood, projects in progress, and the like, are kept here.

There are decently sized windows here to let in the light of day, and brass candleholders besides this if one's work took them into the evening. A single set of stairs led to the upper level, which mostly consisted of of a modest living area and a walk made of wooden beams overlooking the production area and the warehouse storage toward the front. The place has the look of a showroom as well as a workshop; a place where things are sold, repaired, and crafted, all under one roof.

Everything seems quiet and still in this place. No noise from the street disturbs this quiet; possibly because of the stone walls and interior wooden features, possibly because it isn't very busy inside. Or some mix of both.

Jacques Mallard, Silversmith

Interior Image Not Unlocked Yet

The Silversmith's place stands exactly as it did when Kosara and Kathryn saw it the day before. It is a building just off of the main thoroughfare, standing apart from the others to provide a bit of privacy (from the street, if not the other buildings around it) were one to find their way around to the side or back. The front door is shut tightly, bearing a sign that clearly reads "Closed For Festival". You aren't sure if that was there before or not. There are two decently sized windows on the front of this shop, both of which are boarded up from the inside. Short steps lead up to the front door.

A quick scout around the building itself shows that the two windows in the front are the only windows on the building, as far as you can tell. There is a back door, however. It looks almost identical to the front, minus the sign. Everything seems very subdued and shut tightly. As this building is on the main street and near the river, it is very open to be view by the public.

Kathryn notices one rather off detail: through a small gap in the boards on one of the front windows, the party's resident "Half-Giant" can barely make out a dim, orange glow. It is so difficult to pick out at first that she doesn't even realize that it is there until a shadow passed across it. Something moved inside of this building.

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 Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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"My, but you're all business, aren't you?" mused Victoria, responding to Rickard. "All I said was 'here we are', and that... Hmm." Phrasing such as this might have been used with venom in intent, but nary a trace of it has to be seen on her face. The opposite, really; she seemed attentive and interested in what he had to say. "Well, no matter. Pleasantries aside, productive conversation over a light breakfast is not the worst thing to have happen."

Victoria's food arrived at this time, owing to the very simple nature of her selection, which she began to nibble on thoughtfully. Bread, butter, fruit, tea. She gave a listen to Marita's thoughts on the dressmaker's daughter, or more specifically, putting off speaking to her for a couple hours. The Bard agreed with a shrug. "It's too early for much of anything to be open right now. Well, excepting a place like this that rents beds and serves breakfast." The unspoken part of that thought was that this place and others like it also cater to a working class demographic, and as such made for early risers.

Another thought secondary to this one floated into her forebrain, and this one she expressed. "In truth, I am feeling stagnant. The sooner this gets underway, the better, so far as I am concerned. If we must wait another couple of hours before approaching the dressmaker, I would rather do something than not." Victoria daintily tore away a piece of bread from the small loaf she had been given and applied a rich dollop of butter to it. She motioned with it to Marita, who had gone to have her discussion with the barmaid, Lea (with whom the talented Bard made sure to avoid unnecessary eye contact, for reason all her own), and mentioned, "My colleague seems to have established a rapport with one of the locals."

A wistful smile and bite of bread later, she continued, "I'm not the keenest investigative mind. More of a 'people person', but if we have the time I would not mind taking a look at this other place. If it is related to our plight, of course." Victoria had no reason to think that it did not. The people were a little tight-lipped with Sheriff Arbalest; it stood to reason that some things never got communicated. As a passing fancy, Victoria considered that she wouldn't mind going back to check out The Honey Barn either, provided she could find some excuse that gave it any sort of connection to their actual job here in Avonshire.

With Victoria's bread down, she turned her attention to the fruit she was given. The pear she had eaten the previous day was amazingly sweet and she was hoping to recreate the experience today, but looking at the quality of the ones in this establishment, the apples were preferable. Still, she found it to be fragrant and juicy, tart, firm (but yielding), and was its own tiny adventure. She was a Bard from a College that put emphasis on death and necromantic study, yet took immense value in the tiny details that gave life color. Perhaps it was irony. Then again, to her philosophy, the two concepts gave each other sharper meaning. Perhaps it was why she walked the path of neutrality, as differing from the people with whom she currently associated.

Then Victoria realized that she was practicing inexpert philosophy over an apple and stopped posthaste. She finished her breakfast with impeccable manners, befitting a lady of her position, and gave her steadfast companion Morty a pat on his hickory-smoked noggin. "I'm game. Where shall we start first?"

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

And here we are, me writing this OOC post, you reading it, that we begin to think toward the simple pleasures in life. Good food, good wine, okay friends, those egg and sausage burrito things at Mickey-D's; you know - stuff that makes life worth living. Unfortunately, none of your characters have most of that at their disposal, but they DO have a mystery to suss out and the opportunity to do so.

Short form: Your settings have been set, stocked with a slim crew of NPCs, and what comes next is up to you. Please contact me with the appropriate questions and/or declarations to make this happen, and may the math rocks tumble favorably for you. Update is up. Go be heroes.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Partly cloudy, a chill still lingering int he air. It is autumn, after all, but the sun is doing a good job of bringing this up to "sweater" weather, as opposed to "winter gear".

Time: Morning! Early morning still, not very far past dawn.

Ambience: Mr. Sun is a little higher up now, and he's being a pal. The fog has abated into something that stands at a hazy distance - it is present and lends heavily to the atmosphere, but does little to hamper vision except at a distance; in most cases this distance would have been blocked by structures, anyway.

People are slightly more active now. Most of these people appear to be working types moving to their places of business, so far as anyone might tell. There are a couple instances of citizens Avonshire Township that might be taking the proverbial Walk of Shame, but this is not easy to verify without direct questioning. The foot traffic is still sparse, comparative to the previous day and evening especially. The occasional cart can be seen headed outside, likely to one of the many farms in the outlying area. This is a heavily agricultural region, after all. And somewhere in, and/or around the fair Township, one might hear words softly carried by the wind, "G'mornin'! Nice day for fishin', ain't it? Huah hah!"

Neil & Bob's Public House

Robert sat at the bar, back to the door still, seemingly trying hard to ignore anything else except for the simple breakfast and ale in front of him. The few patrons inside of the establishment were quiet, also keeping to themselves for the most part. It is relatively quiet inside of the humble Public House, in blatant contrast to the revelry just a handful of hours earlier.

Following the delivery of what few, simple meals were ordered, Lea takes to pushing a mop across the floor with the occasional, "Oh! Excuse me!" or, "Careful stepping there, floor's damp." There isn't a lot heard from behind the door to the kitchen area aside from a shuffle of small wares every once in a while. It seemed that, after a long night, people were content with a quiet morning.

This also included the common sleeping room, which yet contained the bulk of its inhabitants. Not surprisingly, they were not fated to be early risers that day. A quiet retching sound could be heard from behind the wall which separated it from the taproom, and only because of the lack of speech and movement in the latter.

One of the tables in the main room, containing a pair of locals, pauses their meal long enough to give a long, hard look at the extremely still, quiet, emaciated-looking hog(?) accompanying the lady in purple. Silent glances slowly gave way to inaudible whispers and disturbed expressions. The pair of them lay money upon the table and leave without fuss, one grabbing a the already paid for loaf of bread from their table on the way out.

Bed & Breakfast

The journey to the spot the L'Roses reserved for themselves was uneventful, for the most part. The part of the Township where the hayloft and Public House reside was considered fairly common in quality, if respectable in the way that many towns (even if it is the major settlement of the region) simply were in the eyes of its inhabitants. The part of town that they were headed to, separated only by a couple of streets of any note, had more of a haute quality; this being the more mercantile Traders' Market area, or nearabouts. Money changed hands in larger quantities here, and a couple of the people might not let you forget it.

Odd stares came from a few of these types of people, slightly scornful and slightly wary, at the appearance of a Tiefling and the largest woman any of these people had ever seen. Whispers of things like, "...do you think that one is..? ...I don't know, I thought he said it was an Elf woman... Sorcery, that's what it is... ..wow, that's a tall one, innit? ...devil spawn, and in dark times, too..." might be understood by someone attentive to their surroundings. But no one approached, nor said anything openly.

Arriving at the silversmith's is the easy part. Following this is determining which green-roofed building could possibly be the correct one was another matter. It might have taken a few minutes, or instantly, depending upon the sharpness of the investigative mind pursuing it, but eventually the pieces are put together that the wooden sign that spelled out "Bed & Breakfast" attached to a two-story, green roofed structure might just be the one for which they had been looking.

A knock or three results in a moderately heavyset Human lady with touches of grey in her otherwise dark brown hair opening the door. She introduces herself as Mrs. Ines Cuvier, after a twinge of shock at the sight of her two highly irregular guests passes. "I'm so very sorry, Miss, and Miss, but we are completely booked up through the festival! I don't know where you might find a place this time of the year, but maybe you might rent a tent in the Farmers' Market? There's a good lady now, off with you, yes?" It might have come out a little more rudely than intended, and she looked like the was in a mild hurry.

"No wait, they're friends of mine!" called a familiar voice from inside the house. In the line of sight of the front doors, among other things, was a set dining table on the other side of the main room. Around it were a small collection of people, among which also sat Cecily and Lizbeth L'Rose. Cecily was speaking, of course, and gave a little wave. The whole of them had sat down to breakfast, and it looked like they just had. The fare here was of somewhat better quality then that being served at the Public House, though such things were ordinarily reserved for temporary residents. "Please let them in, Mrs. Cuvier. These are two of the ones I was telling you about."

Lizbeth gave a distant smile, waving with familiarity at Kosara and Kathryn even as she popped a fresh berry scone in her mouth and chewed vigorously. She looked around as if to motion to an empty seat at the table, but alas, they were all taken by boarders in town for the festival.

The proprietress relented, nodding her acquiescence and opening the door fully to admit the pair, should they so desire. The main room was rather open. It featured a large fireplace with a sitting area in front of it in addition to the dining area and a set of stairs made of well appointed and decoratively carved, dark wood. There were rugs, there were cushions, even a bit of local, folksy art. While this place had the bearing of a solid middle-class residence in a larger community, for a rural region like Avonshire this was near to opulence.