Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: N/A Location: Rose River Vineyard (Tasting Room) Action: Skill Check (Persuasion) Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

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The wine was excellent. Aged amazingly, tinctured with just a touch of fortification. It was great. But by this time, Victoria was of the impression that every wine in this place was going to be amazing. To hear Lizbeth talk, every single one in this room, especially, was some innovative conquest of the market's expectations of flavor and ease of pairing. Hells, they might even have vintage exclusive magical powers, for all she knew. (Of course, Victoria genuinely expected something from the brandy, but that was neither here nor there in the present thought process). In fact, as generally privileged as her upbringing was, Victoria felt that her palate might not adjust to common tavern wine for some time to follow.

Despite this, the wine was not foremost on Victoria's thoughts. Lizbeth's words about doing something else while the others were distracted while the others were distracted, on the other hand, were. "Lizbeth, you're right. You saw the letter and you have been here for a long, long time. You're a smart girl. Maybe we can do something to help, but I do not wish to lie to you about this - maybe we cannot. But the letter mentioned your grandfather's name specifically, I think we shall have a better chance of figuring this out if we investigate his private study. Do you have the key?"

A look of confusion, then realization, then defeat crossed over Victoria's face as Lizbeth spoke, revealing a harsh truth to her. "We were in a hurry to get Grandfather's body off of the lands before nightfall. His keys were still on him." Monsieur Arnaud L'Rose, following his untimely death, was stolen by Goblins (along with a few casks of wine), cooked, and eaten. All that was found of his possessions amounted to a handful of silver buttons. Victoria herself interred most of his bones, sans a half-blackened finger bone she held onto for her own reasons and whatever else was fully consumed by the Goblins' fire. They recovered no keys after their fight, and if they were anywhere, they were pressed into the earth somewhere on that roadside battlefield. So, with their resources and time, the available option was vandalism. If they even could do that effectively. Victoria has no spell useful here, and she could not persuade the door to open with sheer force of personality. Lizbeth spoke with a helpful, if muted tone, "There might be a spare somewhere. Grandfather did mention once that he had another study somewhere on the property. Well, if you can get in, I'll help however I can."

Victoria sighed. "Thank you, Lizbeth. Between us all, I am sure we will figure something out." The Bard wasn't as certain about these words, and it showed through with her tone.

Meanwhile, out in the Wine Storage room, Medician Annick Floquet had her hands full attempting to lead Rens to the wine that she couldn't quite remember, but was sure she last saw somewhere around here, she swore. So long as they were looking, the older lady suggested that, "...maybe a little taste here or there wouldn't hurt, would it? I don't think I've tried that rosé yet." She was not the overly charismatic type, but Rens was trying very hard to be accommodating. All at once, Annick gave a little shiver. "Oh, I'm sorry, Master Rens. It's just a little cold for my old bones in here. I left my shawl in the Tasting Room. I'll just grab it and be right back. Don't keep Lady Kathryn waiting on my account."

She didn't wait for an answer, but went jogging off with more vigor than a lady complaining about her "old bones" might have. She seemed in a rush, and it might be stated that she really wanted to get back to this tour as quickly as possible. With her shawl. Perhaps this was why she opened the Tasting Room door with a start, then carefully closed it behind her. Without addressing anyone in the room initially, she walked up to her folded shawl on the table and the smallish leather case atop it. True to her word, she pulled the garment over her shoulders but also took up the case, unfastening and unrolling it with haste. It was full of a series of small metal utensils; picks, lengths of stiff wire bent into "L" shapes and hooks, a tiny file, and the like. She selected two of these tools and hurried over to the door with the chunky lock, finally addressing Lizbeth, Kosara, and Victoria. "Of course Adventurers show up. Of course something has been wrong about this place for a long time. You people think I'm stupid?" She inspected the door, gave it a quick knock in a couple places, checked for anything unusual or off about it then inserted the picks into the lock. "First time I saw you," she continued, motioning her head toward Victoria, "...thought you might be involved." Then she looked to Kosara, "Rest of you didn't seem much better either. Thinking different, now."

Something behind or within the door issued a soft click, and Annick withdrew her tools. She put them away, tucked her kit within her cloak, and stepped away. "I know how this works. You're adventurers. You'll either fix this or die badly. If you fix this, I want a cut. There's always a cut. Keep me informed on everything here. Anything happens to Lizbeth, you'll never see me coming. Promise you." The Medician started toward the door, giving a parting declaration of, "Miss Belmont, I still expect to see you for your regular training. And Jon - You didn't see anything. Not a damned thing. Understand?" The door swung shut behind her, and she was gone as quickly as she arrived.

The security of the door now compromised, Victoria looked to Kosara, then to Lizbeth. Even once back to Jon, then immediately to the first two. "That was thoroughly unexpected. I shall be honest, I thought we might have to put this off, just to find the keys by the roadside. Interesting. Well, Kosara, would you like to do the honors?" Victoria smiled at her adventuring colleague, gesturing to the Study Door. "I shouldn't have all of the fun. It simply wouldn't promote fairness at all." A sly wink followed. Even for her confident bluster, Victoria was already reaching for a dagger and her instrument.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

To business! Party is split as shown below:

Rens - Annick, Kathryn
Cecily - Laurent, Tarace, Barbal
Lizbeth - Kosara, Victoria, Jon (I am assuming, let me know if I missed or he's wanted elsewhere)

Rens is taking his people back into the Winery Storage, just in the next room. Per Annick's suggestion, they'll start near the opposite door for her initial taste of the "something-something-Red". Obviously, Kat is paired with a true connoisseur.

Cecily is taking her people (all NPCs) into the receiving area where they handle initial production and prepare casks for shipping. Riveting stuff.

Lizbeth's group is starting their tour with the casks and bottles of reserve stuff in the Tasting Room. Trouble aplenty might be afoot.

Baronfjord's group, all ONE of them, well... Let it be said that he was truly a brave lad.

Obviously, we're getting into some stuff right now, so let's all keep our metagaming to a minimum. I understand that some is impossible to avoid, but let's try to have some fun with it. As this looks like it's going to be a split party in the middle of a touch of havoc, allow me to take this opportunity to thank you yet again for taking place in this adventure, regardless of what horrors might be lurking. Per our standard, get with me in our Discord for dice rolls or rulings about stuff, and best of luck, Adventurers.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Tasting Room

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L'Rose Winery Storage

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L'Rose Winery

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Gazebo Winery Entrance

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Weather: It's a still but chilly night for a stroll. The snow is fat, slow, and vertical on the descent, signifying a now dull to nonexistent wind.

Time: Per the usual procivities of the diurnal/noctunal cycles of the beasties out and about at this hour, it is indeed nighttime.

Ambience: The outside is a lovely place. Cold, but amazingly colored with snow and fiery lamplight, the occasional soft glow of moonlight breaking through the clouds as snow lazily does what snow does when left to its own devices. It's just beautiful out here, so long as you don't mind the cold.

Inside, the scene begins to shift from the Tasting Room, still as cozy and mysterious as ever. The place is well lit by candles and lamps both, and the sweeter, earthy scents of wine, bread, fruit, and cheese. The previous feelings of social oddness and/or friction are alleviated somewhat by the movement of people away from the central group and off to their tiny tours.

*****

Lizbeth gave an unsure glance in her aunt's direction when the question was put to her about the Ziegelrote, a series of easy-to-read expressions serving to act as a contextual inquiry. These expressions were answered with similar feats of facial telepathy by Cecily, who finally conceded with a polite smile and a nod. The elder L'Rose then led her troupe of tourists out of the Tasting Room and into the production area.

Before her aunt could close the door fully, Lizbeth had already decanted a small portion of the Ziegelrote into a carafe to allow the particularly aged wine to breathe. "Give this a minute before sipping, please," she advised politely. Wide eyes regarded the off-reddish liquid, which still bounced back and forth a little in the glass vessel. There wasn't enough present for a full glass; certainly enough for Lizbeth's three guests to have a taste (with perhaps enough left over for just one more). Having gone over the basics of the wine already, there wasn't much left to do except for sample. To this, she waited patiently, with even a bit of apprehensive smile.

Those sampling the wine itself would note a flavor of decent, intense quality; not as complicated nor as nuanced as the ones they had partaken of previously, but an unblended varietal of grape made with uncomplicated procedures and left for nearly a century with a touch of neutral brandy (made from the same grape) to stabilize for long-term casking. One might say that it was an acquired taste. Another might say that it was unfettered by pretense. It was not as much of a rich and flavorful experience as the Zinnoberrot, nor the Honigblume. But the fact remained as stated earlier - this wine was rare, even for this locale, and likely none more existed with this amount of age. And quite fruity, in hindsight.

Lizbeth looked around at the three gathered before her in the Tasting Room and waited until those who wished to sample could do just that. She gestured around their immediate vicinity, informing, "The best reserves are in this room. For, um, special occasions like this one. Oh, and Mademoiselle Kosara, those brandy barrels you asked about? They were just over sixty years old, I think. About the same time the Vineyard started - second, maybe third harvest."

Seemingly without reason, Lizbeth's pleasant expression faltered. She took the final sip of the decanted Ziegelrote (that she probably wasn't given permission to sample) and sighed. Tears began to well in her eyes which she immediately scrubbed away with the back of her hand. "It's good," she said with passionless monotone. "If you want to avoid the others in here, it's okay. There's really good wine and no one would blame you." Her voice quieted and she continued in a different line, "I know something bad is happening. I don't know exactly what it is, but it's gotten worse. And I've been seeing people look at the door to Grandfather's study. If you want to drink wine, that's okay. But if you're going to do anything else, do it while the others are distracted." She looked suddenly pale, as if untouched by the sun for weeks. Eyes were sunken and dark. Lizbeth shook the last few drops out of her glass, attempting to savor whatever might remain but seemingly taking no pleasure from the experience.

*****

Meanwhile, out in the Winery Storage area, Rens was on a seemingly epic quest to locate the "something-something Red" described to him earlier, though with some difficulty as he simply could not parse out the exact location, nor the exact vintage, not even what Annick was talking about specifically. One could argue that he was given the appropriate directions, and even if he wasn't, Rens was the Master of Wine in this place and should be able to figure it out. He was a professional, after all. "I, ah... Hmm," he sputtered, angling mentally on how he was going to sate the needs of this polite(ish) but problematic request. "No no, I'm positive it's back this way. I think." The lead away was unsure at best, but at least it looked like the portly Winemaster had a plan, even if he didn't.

On the way out to the possible location of the "something-something Red", Cecily's group walked parallel to Rens's at the beginning. This gave the Halfling farmer, Barbal Mosswater, the opportunity to respond to Kathryn. "Hmm... Later on in the day, maybe. No, we can probably manage Teatime. Afternoon, then? Might just pay Madame L'Rose a small visit while I'm out this way, so long as I don't act the fool with the wine tonight, hmm?" There was a jolly smile on his face. For the most part, the Mosswaters aseemed to be having a great time.

Rens had the thought that he might have finally found the appropriate wine near to the entrance, all the way on the opposite side of Storage from the Tasting Room. He decanted a small amount into a carafe and swirled it gently, then poured it into quite miniature glasses he happened to have in his person, one for Annick and one for Kathryn. And one for himself. He was the Master of this wine, after all. The wine itself would prove robust, tannin-y, and equal parts floral and vegetal in flavor to the discerning palate. Otherwise, it was a decent enough product worthy of being part of the Vineyard's stock, if not amazingly special. "Was this the wine you were thinking of, Medician Floquet? And Lady Kathryn, what is your opinion?" He looked hopeful.

*****

Outside in the cold and snow, Baronfjord found a regularly lit path and beautiful bit of scenery stretched out before him. On the occasions when he could see beyond the glow of the lamplight along his mostly straightforward path, the task-oriented Dragonborn might glimpse a picturesque landscape in the middle of rural Avonshire, if the moonlight did well to cooperate. However, seeing wasn't always the best thing ever, nor were the sudden revelations of things when alone in the gloom of firelit night.

At first, in the circular, arena-esque setting of the meeting spot, one might look upon the figure bathed in irregular light and guess that it was wearing loose but stiffening clothing. It was hard to say whether it was facing toward or away from Baronfjord at initial distance, but getting closer would reveal more detail. Unsettling, vivid detail. One might have to blink and look twice to take in that which was being shown, which, and in small terms, subverted certain social norms. Yes, its back was to Baronfjord, at least at first. One could tell it was its back because shoulderblades were prominent against fully naked skin. Colorful, fully naked skin.

Bold inkwork depicting leafy vines entwined about exposed skin, festooned with purple, red, and white-green grapes, artistically inserted into skin with care and craftsmanship. The entire, fleshy canvas moved with a sudden, unexpected puff of breeze, like a tarp which wasn't fully attached to a framework. There was a shock of curly, dark hair upon the figure's head which didn't seem to sit quite right. Puckered in place. Ill-fiting. Too large upon a smaller head. The growing grotesqueness continued as the figure began to turn around when Baronfjord neared.

This new addition to a mental vault of horror was a lone skeleton, which looked very much like its flesh had been recently stripped away. Where it was visible, tendrils of meat and sinew remained, the oversights of a novice butcher stripping a corpse for market. But most of it could not be seen. One could describe this thing as "naked" true, but it did have attire, of a sort. The skeleton wore its own lower half of dermis like a macabre pair of loose trousers, held up by thick strings sewn into the waist and tied off to the pelvis and ribcage in irregular knots, its frozen unmentionables on full display. The upper half of its skin was faceless and split into a colorful, tattooed jacket which hung over its bony shoulders, what was left of its neck, ears, and hair formed a dripping, mostly frozen hood which clung poorly to its skull. Hollow, broken-out eye sockets stared into Baronfjord's soul.

The thing-which-was-once-Human raised a cracked glass filled with what might have been white wine and splashed it past its bloody, articulated mouthbones as if drinking a hearty toast, splattering bones inside and wetting the interior of its tattooed suit. When the last of it was gone, the thing shattered the glass over the nearby stone bench, leaving the bottom most part of the bowl a jagged mess reaching maybe two inches above the stem, which it gripped like a shiv. "Are you enjoying the wine tasting as much as I am, you insignificant creature?" came a menacing voice, impossibly issuing from the direction of the abomination before Baronfjord. "Do they truly need ALL of you to complete the assignment? I grow impatient."

It took its first steps forward, shard of wine glass in hand.

Meeting Spot

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: N/A Location: Rose River Vineyard (Tasting Room) Action: N/A Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

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Victoria's head was starting to clear up, which was preferable to the slight fuzziness that threatened to blunt her decision making skills and her finer points of manual dexterity. She was a lady who enjoyed good wine, be it with more moderation than the stereotype of her adventuring profession. Call it ongoing negotiations between her proclivities and her ambitions. She took her studies and the furthering of her Arts seriously, be it magic, music, performance, or even a personally fulfilling session of dancing in fresh snowfall. Getting hammered wasn't generally on her "to do" list. Not in this scenario. Maybe later. After all, friends didn't let friends drink and violin.

Very briefly, Victoria wondered if she could offer a bit of brandy to her raven, and as a passable mimic, get it to sing backup for her. The silent thought was accompanied by a studious tilt of her head and faraway expression, lasting only as long as the fleeting thread of brainspark remained.

Another curiosity for Victoria was the presence of her guest's personal belongings intentionally left on the table. It felt like it was an excuse for something, though what it might be was beyond her. Did she intend for Victoria to take it, or leave it where it lay? Prudence took over. That, and a touch of anxiety as to the confrontation that might happen were she incorrect of the intention here, and Annick did not want her things moved. So Victoria looked across the room to the older lady, now with Rens as a tour guide, as they readied to leave the room. Victoria herself opted to have Lizbeth guide her, most specifically to start with this room. Part of her motivation was around keeping her from getting busted by her aunt, but the vast majority had to do with the mysterious door in the room - the one that was supposed to be the late Monsieur Arnaud L'Rose's personal study.

Lucky for her, Kosara had likewise chosen Lizbeth, and gave them both more cover by asking a wine-related question pertaining to the room itself. Good. Intentional or not, this was helpful. Victoria made a mental note to so something nice for Kosara later. Then as she thought of it, maybe also ask a favor, be it unrelated to their present circumstances. "Absolutely, what an interesting way to start a tour!" exclaimed Victoria in her best "I'm interested" voice. Truly, she was. It was a good question, and now that it was said aloud, the Bard founf that she genuinely wished to know, herself. Upon hearing an excellent answer, she replied, "By chance, might we get a sample of that? It sounds like a beautiful piece of history about a stellar vineyard."

The fact that Baronfjord had just volunteered to look for the missing Master of Harvest made Victoria's eyes narrow. It was a way to go. This is a plan that could work. But it was also dangerous. Still within the range of communication with her raven Familiar, Victoria issued a mental command for the spirit-made-flesh concerning the Dragonborn Monk to supersede its present standing orders. Very quickly, she came to understand why so many Wizards opted for Familiars. Useful. Very useful, in differing ways than her minor thrall (which took the form of a cured, smoked boar she called Morty).

Attention reorienting back to the business at hand, Ziegelrote wine to sample and possibly music to play after the tours were done. She was just fine with both, if everyone was still up for it when the moment came. "Yes, Madame L'Rose. Music would be a fine idea, though I must confess bias on the subject. Something lively, or something elegant? What do you feel would mark the occasion better?"

Medician Floquet - Annick to her friends (which is why it was obstinately Medician Floquet here) - spoke to Rens in an effort to get their part of the tour going sooner rather than later. "I saw a darker cask near the front. Thought it was labeled 'something-something Red' that looked interesting. What do you know about that?" The older veteran took a small step in the direction of the door leading back to the Winery, then looked back to see if the portly Master of Wine might follow.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

On the one hand, it looks like only one person picked their celebrity tour guide to take them on a cosy little tour/wine sampling escapade (Thanks, Riv). In and of itself, this was a little unexpected and as such we are continuing with exchanges left off from the last update.

-However-

There is also the possibility of a simultaneous search for the missing party guest. This was also a little unexpected. If you wish to go this route (Looking at Shoe and Arty here), get with me in the Discord and we can go about setting that up, with an Official Party Split! Huzzah!

This might be an utter disaster, OR a bona fide "Two Birds, One Stone" moment. Personally, I'm all a'flutter to see which one it is. Best of luck in the upcoming! Per usual, give me a nod in our Discord for the usual rolls and rulings. And thanks again.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Tasting Room

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L'Rose Winery Storage

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L'Rose Winery

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Gazebo Winery Entrance

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Weather: It remains cold; a chill suitable to this time of the year. Fat, puffy snowflakes descend slowly among quieting winds, giving a rather idyllic winter evening scene a across the whole of Avonshire.

Time: While hammering down a specific time is difficult, persay, all parties will agree that it is most assuredly nighttime. Earlier rather then later, but it's dark and shows no signs of un-darkening any time soon.

Ambience: In the intervening time, not much has changed outside. The evening outside progresses with its picturesque majesty, accented by the lanterns set up by the Rose River staff along the primary thoroughfares of the Vineyard. Likewise, the interior of the tasting room has gone through zero significant changes, with the possible exception of there being marginally less refreshments out due to the gradual consumption of wine and munchable palate cleansers consisting primarily of breads, cheeses, and winter available fruits.

The feel of social friction coming from various sources within the room is obvious, but that doesn't seem to bother a number of the guests. In fact, the Halfing farmers (or just the one, anyway) take the mild drama as part of a suppertime show, to go along with their refreshment. A sort of a party atmosphere persists then, despite the friction. Maybe even because of it, with the addition of yummy, late harvest wine.

*****

The question of their missing guest, as put to Master Rens by Baronfjord, was met initially with a shrug. The portly Human did come around in a moment with the explanation of, "I don't know. He's not one to pass on free wine. On the other hand, the only thing he's ever really reliable on is work. Trust the man to lead a good shift, but that's about it."

Cecily took to the Dragonborn's asking permission to search the grounds with confusion at first, followed by a resigned intonation of, "I'm sure I won't be offended if you feel the need to look around. There should be light up, which Toombes would be able to see clearly if he's about."

Rens piped up, "There's a receiving spot along the main road, right near the boundary of the vineyard grounds. That was where we were supposed to meet before coming up this way, but he didn't show." Anyone who traveled the main path into the Rose River Vineyard would have seen this spot; it was a circular area lined with stacked, white stones with benches, overlooking the vineyard below. "But Toombes, even if he was made late by some emergency - he'd know where to come."

Meanwhile, Lizbeth responded to Victoria's insistence on getting a tour of the Tasting Room first as the others went more into production areas with a little uncertainty. The fact that the Bard might have kept her from getting into bigger trouble with her aunt wasn't lost on her, but at the same time, skepticism bubbled up. "Um, yeah. Sure, Mademoiselle Belmont, I can do that." She glanced around nervously, looking at casks and bottles on display, and eventually, to the locked door. Her smile was not the most genuine ever.

Kathryn's salutation to the Mosswaters was met with a cheerful return. Tarace was ultimately more forthcoming with manners, rising from his seat and extending a hand to the tall warrior, "Thank you again for all of your help with the Ankheg incident. We all might have been in trouble with that one." His smile was warm and open. Barbal was less demonstrative of cheer and etiquette; nevertheless he did wave a greeting and sip from his wine thoughtfully. he then slapped his knee and exclaimed, "I owe you and yours an apology. Really do. This here's plumb my fault. I was supposed to some back with enough ankheg to do up a seasonal roasting with you all. Traditional Halfling food of Avonshire, or so I was planning. One tiny setback led to another. Hmm. As an apology, I do still have a good portion of hard smoked Ankheg sausage I can dip back with on the morrow, if you like. Oh, and about half of the shells I claimed left, too, if you're interested. I got what I need from them, was just going to sell 'em off (probably to Cecily's fellow, Urmdrus). Just let me know, alright? Anyways, I think I'll join Madame Cecily for that tour. Excuse me..."

The exchange between Laurent and Kathryn was more of a one-sided event, as he merely waited until she was done speaking, nodded slightly, and responded with, "Yes. Quite. Pardon me, I believe I shall be with Master Rens while he shows us around." He then made his way over to Rens and Annick, nearer to the door.

As Kosara seemed to be the only other person raring to go with the tour, Lizbeth took her desire to be part of her group with stumbling appreciation, as if she was getting into a situation a little over her head. She responded with, "Um okay, sure! Let's wait for the others to vacate and I can get to yours and Mademoiselle Belmont's questions with less interruptions, okay? Oh, but I can tell you that, including the brandy that was just discovered, the oldest stuff would be..." She looked around until her eyes met a stand toward the corner, "That stuff over there. It's one of the blends we don't really do anymore, since adapting the grapes better, I think - it's our original Ziegelrote, and I think they had to fortify it for longevity. Very rare in this part of the world, now." She looked as if reciting something for a classroom, and showed a bit of pride when finished with the explanation.

Cecily suddenly spoke over the conversations in the Tasting Room, announcing, "Very good! Now everyone find their guide who hasn't and we will get started. Anyone who wishes to go looking to Toombes, go ahead and we can catch you up when you get back, if you find him quick enough. Thank you, everyone - and perhaps we might have a little music," She smiled in Victoria's direction as to silently make the request of her, as she went to the trouble of bringing her violin and all, "to continue the evening after?" Satisfied with her declaration and following request, she emphasized, "So, Monsieur Laurent and whom else is with me?"

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: Buzzed (Temporary Exhaustion, 1) Location: Rose River Vineyard (Tasting Room) Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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The tiny amount of magic that Victoria channeled to summon her familiar felt a little but like a specific moment in many a tavern night. Specifically, the moment where she had indulged in one of her favorite wines, but did not realize until standing and excusing one's self to visit the little Bard's room that the wine had made an impact. She still had her mental faculties enough to realize that she was ever so slightly more loosened up than she really intended to be at the outset of the evening. It was not the best of ideas to get in that quick measure of brandy - the particularly not cursed brandy - before attending a wine tasting. Well, "in for a penny," as the saying went. She was already cursed, in her own way. The brandy was a mere drop in the bucket.

Be it that the application of bread, cheese, and fruit might affect her slender, girlish figure, it might also work to help counter the effects of her indulgence. So after handing off the bread plate to her guest, Annick, Victoria made her way over to the table where Lizbeth was appropriating her own share of finger foods. And stealing a glass of wine. Before she could get there, Cecily gave her announcement of a more ...interactive... tour of the rooms from which they had recently entered. The additional samples of their numerous fine vintages stored within was a temptation, to be sure, but it afforded other opportunities.

The sudden surprise from Lizbeth when she thought that she had been caught by her aunt getting a glass of the Honigblume (and stifled laughter from the Mosswaters) prompted Victoria to maneuver between Cecily and Lizbeth's line of sight in pursuit of her alcohol-soaking snack. Between Cecily's gaze and Lizbeth's glass, anyway. The Bard looked back and gave Lizbeth a knowing wink, then took another small sip of her wine. It was a token movement, as she was trying to actively decrease the rate with which she was approaching intoxication. In truth, this was all a ploy to get nearer to the impromptu tour guide that she knew best, and as such had the better chance of influencing. "If it's all right with you, Mademoiselle L'Rose," began Victoria in hushed, formal tones, "I would prefer very much you showing me around in here, first."

Victoria's eyes motioned in the direction of the door with the chunky, inset lock as a near mischievous smile crossed her otherwise serene, sublime features, a spark of trouble glinting from crystal blue, almond shaped eyes.

Back near Rens, Medician Floquet held a firm look as one who had just finished mildly embarrassing themselves despite the assurances that she, in fact, had not. While her own history was far from sterling, even her recent history, Annick was painfully aware that she was not in her own place and did not have the luxury of being quite as touchy. That and, for her dislike of the things which her new, young student did as a spellcaster, she was a guest of said student and what was left of the L'Rose Family in their estate. Yet at the same time, the older woman didn't just come here to be sociable. "I can think of a question or two I wouldn't mind answered. And I never have seen the inside of a grand winery like this. We've been neighbors for a long while now, Madame L'Rose. I would enjoy a tour." She gave a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, drained her glass, and went to set it on the table.

Annick's gaze met Victoria's as she deliberately put her glass down. She then pulled the shawl from around her neck and set it on the table next to her glass, then reached into her cloak and retrieved a small leather case with a brassy, metal clasp, which she placed on top of her shawl. Leaving these things behind, she returned to Master Rens. "Lead on, Master of Wine. I'm curious and thirsty."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Here we are again. Many thinks for sticking around this far in the oddness that is Wintering In Wine Country. Things are slowly turning to a point here, the pressure is mounting (even if it looks like a fancy wine & cheese event), and if one is paying attention, there is a opportunity present. I'm not going to go into detail, but the IC update just might if the right cards are played. In any case, I'm going to keep this short and sweet. In the meantime, please keep track on the number of alcoholic beverages your character is consuming, and if you would please give me a number that they have so far in the evening.

That aside, you know the drill. Get with me in our Discord for questions, observations, die rolls, etc. And good luck with the upcoming.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Tasting Room

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L'Rose Winery Storage

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L'Rose Winery

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Gazebo Winery Entrance

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Weather: Still cold. The wind remains light, with only the tiniest of gusts giving the occasional diagonal motion to the snowfall. It is true snowfall now rather than flurries, though not what one would consider heavy. Large, slow flakes fall earthward, making for a quiet, rather peaceful night.

Time: The night time is the right time. An hour or so past dusk.

Ambience: Considering the lovely (if quite cold) night outside and the lanterns hung to light the main thoroughfare, not much obvious has changed across the Rose River Vineyard in the interim. Inside of the Tasting Room, there is likewise a lack of appreciable environmental change, unless one counts the overall feel of the room from a more personal standpoint. There is an almost palpable friction amongst the guests and from obvious sources. However, there is an overtone of general merriment that only a successful harvest and outstanding batch of seasonal icewine can provide out here in Wine Country.

The lighting inside is adequate to the needs of even the most mundane of sight, thanks to the dual strike of candles and lamps set up in key, predetermined locations for exactly this reason. The central table is topped liberally with quick and easy things upon which one may munch with one's fingers; cheese, bread, and fruit primarily, though some utensils are provided for the status-conscious.

Conversation among the guests is varied and usually kept to themselves as not to interrupt those around them; polite discussions about the quality of wine throughout the years or whispers about whatever notable happenings were afoot within the context of their lives. The more public and/or louder addresses among the guests are taken in stride, as likely as not to be elements of future gossip sessions when in differing company.

*****

Laurent was a socially proper enough person to, upon getting himself startled by a suddenly appearing and disappearing Raven (from and back into the thinnest of air, no less), straightened his waistcoat and departed from Victoria's vicinity even as she left to join her plus one elsewhere in the room. His own path took him the short distance back to the table, nearest to the Mosswaters, who have taken the last few minutes to sit back and enjoy the festivities - wine and drama both. At least, Barbal was enjoying the wine and drama, and with a suppressed bout of chuckling reddening his face, at that. Tarace was looking apprehensive. Nervous, even. The less boisterous Halfling was giving Barbal what support he might while sipping upon his glass of wine as if to partly disguise his expression.

"Ey there, Laurent," began Barbal. "Those adventuring types? They ah... mostly don't care about social status. Not unless it get 'em something. Advantage, like. I don't know that you or I got anything they need, Monsieur Laurent." A quick look around prompted him to follow up with, "...what I heard, anyhow."

The middle-aged landowner known as Monsieur Laurent maintained his composure enough to sip from his glass and quietly remark, "Quite." The freshness of the upset by the imposing noblelady still possessed a modicum of sting despite his cooler demeanor, and apparently the Halfling that was his peer among this apparently very mixed group could just tell. The verbal knife twisted a little bit more.

Meanwhile, Rens was more than happy to take his share of the accolades, not like he didn't deserve them. As the Master of Wine for the Rose River Vineyard, he was the man with his feet on the ground, overseeing every aspect of the vintages produced from the time the grapes got crushed to the moment the finished product was moved for shipping. Objectively, the two wines sampled this evening were some of the best the region of Avonshire (and possibly the nation) had to offer. The upper-class market for these wines truly belied the moderately overweight, middle-aged craftsman before them, bedecked in what would pass for decent weekend wear for society's wealthier element but for him was obviously tucked away for special occasions, like this one. His thick moustache wiggled beneath his prominent nose as he stood himself up straighter under the glow of his praise from multiple sources. A showing of obviously false modesty reared in the man with, "Oh no, it's all too much. I am a mere wine man, it's really all about the good people of Rose River." And while Rens may have genuinely meant that, he was absolutely eating up the attention. He did make one wistful concession, though. "I am a little worried about this season's Master of Harvest. Toombes was supposed to have been here ages ago... He's missing out."

Lizbeth had taken the opportunity of this attention to spirit herself away to the table, whereupon she selected for herself a bread plate and placed a few cubes of cheese, some slices of apple, and surreptitiously poured a glass of the Honigblume for herself. The glass was to her lips by when she glanced to her side, seeing Tarace Mosswater give her a quick wink after being very solidly caught. Tarace smiled and pretended to be oblivious, and Lizbeth took her first sip.

Cecily, genuinely oblivious to this, tapped upon her glass again. It was time for another segment of the evening, according to her plans. "If everyone would please direct you attention this way? Thank you. We have new guests to this event, and even though I have given a cursory tour of our fine Winery on their way in, it is customary for a fuller tour, should it be warranted. It is only fitting that, while viewing our casks by date, varietal, and technique, they be allowed the opportunity to sample as they go along. So please, and open to everyone in attendance, let us divide into groups with Master Rens, Lizbeth, and myself. One of us may escort you on a more personalized tour of our facilities and answer any question that does not let our deepest of professional secrets slip." She moved off to one side to allow for anyone who wished to join her as an option to do so.

Lizbeth nearly slammed her ill-gotten glass upon the table as soon as her name was mentioned, seemingly unprepared for this quite so soon. "Yes, that would be grand!" she blurted nervously. "Um, I can, um... Yes, right this way, anyone who wants!" She forced a smile. The Mosswaters, Tarace and Barbal both, tried not to laugh aloud.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: N/A Location: Rose River Vineyard (Tasting Room) Action: N/A Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

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A hint of a derisive smile crept over Victoria's face as she watched the ongoing antics of the rest of her group, which gradually turned into something more positive. This wasn't the most formal of occasions, and she did have the social intelligence to note that she was a little overdressed for this occasion. Good for her though, she could pull it off nicely. That and, given the opportunity to express her base profession, she could get an easy pass on wearing clothing a little too grandiose for the moment.

Regrettably, the attire did get the notice of the farmer, Laurent. Having finished being ...snooty... to the only noble-born person of which she was aware for many leagues around, he apparently felt that the pretty girl in the expensive clothing would be an easier target. It wasn't anything overly insulting, but he was obviously vying for some form of social one-upsmanship, or attempting to get the woman to admit some lessened status which might make himself feel better. Well, seeing as she had helped do this man a favor not too horribly long ago and he still decided to act like this, Victoria felt it prudent to be as honest as she could, given the circumstances.

"Of course Belmont is a Human name, Monsieur Laurent. So is Victoria. Humanity accounts for a full half of my lineage and as I mentioned earlier, I grew up among Humans in Ashhaven. To answer your question, I am a student of the Grey Requiem. I understand if you aren't familiar with our Bardic College, but I assure you I am as formally educated as any student of Lore." Her voice felt cold to her, and this was not the image she wished to project yet. So Victoria forced her face to soften and adopt a helpful if ignorant inflection, continuing, "Despite my family's more mercantile background, I am presently content to function as out little group's Arcanist. I have working knowledge of most subjects Arcane and Divine. I translate texts, interpret magical effects and apply investigative hypotheses to situations that require it." She leaned closer and half-whispered, "I even know a few tricks, if you'd care to see."

Victoria beckoned the man another half-step closer as she held her palm up in front of her, gesturing as if she might attempt to fold the very fabrics of mana before her, even if any trained spellcaster could tell that this was nothing but common legerdemain, and not even very good, at that. So when she conjured her Raven Familiar into her open hand with a silent pulse of black energy and flutter of feathers, it may have come as a surprise to the unaware. A loud, distinct "CAW!" sounded in the mostly enclosed room, startling the older man in front of Victoria. Holding the same level of vocal optimism, Victoria commented, "I know a lot better tricks than that, too!" The immediate follow-up dropped the pretense with, "Ask the ankhegs that were destroying your farm."

Thoroughly finished with the man and fully aware that she probably offended him, Victoria excused herself to return to her guest for the evening, who had made her way over to Lizbeth and Rens. She allowed her Raven to flutter about her person for a moment or two before dismissing it to its previous duties. Hoping to change the subject away from herself, she smiled and looked to her recent mentor, Annick. "Medician Floquet, you served in the last Necromantic War. You must have stories." It did not occur to her in that moment that this was thing that she suggested others away from; speaking to her about the Wars. The horrified look on her face indicated that she immediately remembered that this was a mistake.

All the same, the older Medician gave an answer. It was after staring at Victoria for a hard moment, but she did give something. "Okay. Do you want to hear about the time we had to infiltrate an enemy held building to steal back the bodies of our fallen before they got back up and tried to eat us? How about that time I got attached to a small unit of near-suicidal Army Scouts and made quiet harassing runs against Undead capable of flossing their teeth with our souls? But I think my favorite story was at the beginning, when they conscripted a Midwife and Herbalist, pressed her into the shortest possible course on battlefield surgery before shoving her into the front lines of a war she never asked for. Give the officers credit, they said I'd learn a lot in field experience. They were right. By week two, I wasn't even able to cry for the dead and dying anymore. I hope you never have to feel the ache of putting down someone close to you when they turned into a ghoul came for you in the night." She gave a narrow-eyed look in Kosara's direction, then at Victoria.

Annick clenched her fists and sighed. "Sorry. I know you didn't mean anything by it. World's different now. Touchy subject. There's a reason I avoid people. Ask me later, please." Almost on cue, it was around this time that Lizbeth was called upon to pour the new wine for the event.

Seeming to understand, Victoria offered, "How about I get you a glass of the Honigblume for the toast? Maybe a bit of fruit? I'll just be a moment, promise." She kept to her word, selecting a small plate and a few bits of fruit and bread. Victoria drained the remains of the initial glass from earlier and deftly picked up two poured glasses of the honey-colored vintage, then returned. She listened to the short speech from Cecily, a lady who obviously had a lot of respect for the craftsmanship here, as well she should, in Victoria's opinion. Then she raised her glass along with the others.

Pure, sweet flavor manifested across her palate; at first seeming to be too sweet but quickly mellowing into complex and intoxicating sensations which had nothing to do with the alcohol in the mix. "My, but I think I have found a new favorite," she breathed. Victoria usually leaned toward reds, or the occasional rosé, but this was outstanding. "Honigblume." It was more labor intensive then the other wines, owing to the harsher growing season and techniques needed to produce a wine from it, but so obviously worth it. "To the laborers and craftsfolk involved. Madame Cecily, Master Rens," declared Victoria, raising her glass again to take another small sip. The fact that the same undercurrent of flavor present in the other wines, the brandy, and her Morty was also present in this honey-sweet wine barely even registered to her, so alluring was this glass of ambrosia, fit for shiniest royalty. But it was there.