Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Tasting Room & Study

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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: The winds have picked up a little, giving fat snowflakes a slightly more horizontal path downward. It is still quite cold; certainly cold enough to maintain the snowfall and cold enough to keep the white, fluffy stuff accumulating on the ground. Nevertheless, it is quite tolerable to those acclimated to the weather or properly attired for the occasion. The increase in wind does allow for a little more of a visit from a particularly luminescent moon through openings in the clouds. It's kind of nice to anyone who isn't suffering from a gaping torso wound (or three).

Time: The nighttime, of course, is the right time.

Ambience: The increased presence of people outside in the dead of night has convinced the fox that discretion is the better part of valor, and has beat a hasty retreat to more secluded areas. The scent of blood upon the air, while tempting the interest and curiosity of the little predator, is not suitable to overpower its instincts of self-preservation. Soft paws scurry across the snow in retreat.

The Winery is decorated mostly in varying lighting and looks of confusion from the vast majority of the persons present. One exception to the ongoing shock (with just a skosh of dismay) is the Halfling farm owner, Barbal. He looks to be overjoyed in ways that he likely hadn't experienced in many years. And Laurent, busy being manhandled, was harder to read than his agricultural colleagues. Aside from this, it is comfortable within this mostly underground facility of fine wine production - designed to keep a more or less stable temperature. This sits in opposition to the stairs and foyer leading to the outdoors, whereupon the transition from stable to frigid is too fast to be incremental.

*****

Within Winery Storage, it appeared that things were coming to a close. Or at least a slowdown of sorts, as Rens trailed his song off to its logical conclusion point. One could easily recognize it as the stretched series of syllables which sounded roughly as, "BAM-BA-LAAAAAAAAAAAM!" and ended with a particularly smug expression across his round, outgoing features. Lizbeth used this truly cringeworthy opportunity to gather herself and the shortish, curved sword she had liberated from her grandfather's study and hurried along, taking the same path as the Medician from just earlier. It was the tiniest stroke of luck that she was able to remove herself from the rooms without notice.

With no immediate encore from Rens, Laurent backed away from Kathryn and straightened his high-collared waistcoat with a sense of outrage, muted for the sake of some sort of sense of propriety. Nevertheless, the haughty Human, having been conscripted into a dance and spun about like a middle-aged ragdoll then set down like a sack of root vegetables, could feel the redness seeping into his face just as much as everyone else could plainly see it. "Well, I never have been as disrespectfully maltreated as this! Lady Kathryn, I shall not suffer this behavior a moment further!" He turned his attention to Cecily, growling, "Thank you for your hospitality, Madame L'Rose. Good evening." Laurent turned upon his heel and began to make his way back out of the building. But this was not enough to sate the petulant anger from the man. Briskly walking toward the exit, he curtly snipped, "And someone should put a leash on your pet Tiefling. She's wandering around unchaperoned."

Cecily opted not to say anything in this moment, truly stunned by the ever-complicating drama that Kathryn just added to her wine tasting party. Tarace Mosswater seemed to be in the same boat with panicked mutism, but ever the peacemaker, he ran along to get to Laurent before he could fully leave. When the two of them hit the next room, there was an exchange of muffled words as one might assume the smoothing over of events was taking place through the careful use of deescalating dialogue. Tarace returned way too soon to have accomplished much in the way of diplomacy, instead bearing a face as red as Laurent's had been moments ago. Dutifully, he looked to Kathryn. An expression of pure embarrassment, he was finally able to stammer out words which came together to form this sentiment: "Monsieur Laurent would like to have you for Tea next Midweek."

Barbal, unable to contain himself any longer, fell to the floor amid gales of whooping laughter.

Still in the Tasting Room, Jon just stood there amid the abandoned glasses and evidence of festivities. He chewed thoughtfully upon a piece of cheese, content to keep himself removed from anything else this night.

Outside, there gathered a motley assortment of Adventuring types and those who found themselves within their orbit. Veteran Medician Annick Floquet, Grey Requiem Bard Victoria Belmont, Celestial Warlock Kosara of the Southern Deserts, and finally the young Vineyard Heiress Lizbeth L'Rose.

Kosara's light spell went off without hitch nor stumble, greatly illuminating the area around them in ways that the lamps simply did not. Such light would be open and obvious to anyone once they reached the top half of the main thoroughfare, including (but not limited to) Baronfjord Chedgusah, still making his way back to his group. The unsummoning of Chauncey likewise went smoothly, however it might be noted that, upon being told that he was about to revert to whatever state awaited him involving the pendant, the little guy stuffed as much cheese into his face as possible. What remained otherwise fell to the ground.

The sound of steps coming up from stairs behind them could be heard, accompanied by quiet muttering of dissatisfaction in a very local accent which could only be from Monsieur Laurent. Regardless of a spectator about to arrive in their immediate vicinity, or the sudden use of magic from the Warlock, Lizbeth took the occasion to slide her newly acquired weapon from its aged and damaged scabbard. It had a straight spine yet curved edge which got a little wider toward the end, like a light, wide machete which came to a wicked point. She stared at it for a moment. Curiously, the worst of the pitting and discoloration to the blade fell from it and she immediately resheathed it into antiqued but well kept leather and burnished metal. In a determined but young voice, Lizbeth "You said Baron was in trouble. Can you see him now?" She sounded scared, but chose not to seek safety.

Annick knelt in the snow and pulled a small kit bag from underneath her cloak. She checked its contents and replaced it, though now within easy reach. "Best to be prepared," she spoke in simple syllables. One wasn't sure when it might have happened, but while no one was looking, two particularly wicked looking knives had found their way into her hands. They looked very comfortable in the older woman's grasp.

The snows drifted down diagonally now, a sign that the weather might seek to deepen as the colder night air built up. Nevertheless, the area around the Adventurers was bright enough to be easily spotted, even if this renewed light source limited their own vision past a certain point. It was genuinely a glorious night, provided that one liked snow - and provided that one wasn't aware of the blood.

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 (Stealth) Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

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The scant amount of time prior to exiting the Study gave enough wiggle room to hastily give explanation as to her assertion that Baronfjord was, indeed, in trouble. While gathering what she needed to for the purposed of readily exiting the area in as least obtrusive a manner as possible, she reverted to her usual manner of speaking when engaging in professional activities; that is to say, when acting within her nature as a Bard. She was colorful, engaging, and informative while keeping to business. "Jons, I am relieved that you're showing concern for your ..hmm... would you call him a pupil? Well, Baronfjord. But as I mentioned, I do not know what kind of trouble he's in. I'll be more transparent, if it helps: I have a Familiar - like a Wizard's pet - and an animated Thrall. They're just as adorable as they can be, and more importantly, they are incredibly useful for a great many things. Just this evening, my Raven has been scouting the area, when our friend left to find Monsieur Toombes. If it is close enough, we can communicate. It wasn't close enough to let me see exactly what the trouble is, but I am getting the mental image of the raven staring down the main road. If all goes well, my Morty will be joining me in that area, with ...with the things I use in the event of emergencies. You understand?"

Having packed the things she collected from the ritual area up and tucked them into the back of her belt, Victoria took the occasion to traipse out as boldly as she might. She found Annick already at the door leading into the Winery's Storage area. It was cracked open slightly and the older lady had a curious expression on her face. She shrugged, apparently using whatever she witnessed firsthand as distraction enough to slip out with surprising agility and grace. Ghostlike, the Medician glided across the floor with swift, soft footfalls. It was like she was never there.

Victoria glanced back to the Study door. "I can't lock it without a key. Maybe pull it closed and hope nobody checks?" Whichever way this went, she needed to move immediately, while they still had the opportunity presented to them by the gods-awful singing and, now that she was near the exit door, the fully unexpected disruption of Kathryn (maybe forcibly) dancing that Laurent. She could see why Annick paused before exiting. It was equal parts horrifying, funny, and transfixing. But she cleared her head enough to take the plunge and cross the open area, following her mentor's path.

It was rare that Victoria took to actions which lessened attention to herself, but she performed the task like a seasoned professional. Step by step, fluidly placed in succession with minimal physical profile, soft clothing giving nary a rustle as she crossed the distance in the open and to places outside of the line of sight. Even then, she slipped with curiously nuanced ability behind rows of barrels and bottles, ever moving for the exit. Victoria hoped that Lizbeth, Kosara, and Jon were able to make it undetected as well, but from the second that they were in open spaces, there wasn't a thing she could do even if she wanted to.

Victoria joined Annick in the cold air of the Avonshire night. Her Raven fluttered down to her, making small, urgent noises as it perched on her arm. As if speaking to a colleague, the Bard spoke to her Familiar, "Truly? Do show me." The great, black bird took off once again, flying in the direction of the main thoroughfare. "We're close enough now that I can use its senses. Nothing like a bird's eye view, but I can only see where the lights are very well." Almost ominously, she added, "Something is moving up the road." She could tell that it wasn't Morty, like she hoped it might be. For defense, spellwork and a really nice dagger notwithstanding, she really would have felt better with her sword, and her porcine bodyguard.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Hello again, my fellow D&D enthusiasts! I'm keeping this really short, because it looks like we have a series of actions we're all about to go on, and this is really more of me providing the setting and having you all push forward into it. SO - here we all are, at the update. Get with me on those rolls, and best of luck with the upcoming. I'm curious to see how this all works out.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Tasting Room & Study

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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 is still a nice, soft evening, so long as one does not mind the cold. Breath condenses in the air readily before it cools and dissipates into the atmosphere, rising against the fall of slow, fat flakes of snow. Cloud cover is heavy but spotted enough that it deprives one of viewing the lovely winter moon every now and again.

Time: Seeing as it's only been a few minutes since the last tome we addressed the situation, it is safe to say that it is still night, and still moderately early into that night. Maybe an hour, hour and a half past dark.

Ambience: The afore mentioned fox paused in its nighttime merriment, abandoning its newly found stick which was deftly dug from the snow. It looked down upon an odd sight with growing interest, not quite decided as to whether it should run to be safe, or continue with its own plans for the night. It caught the scent of blood on the frosty air and gave it additional consideration.

The Winery's interior maintains its more or less stable temperature, more comfortable by leaps and bounds than the cold from the outside. The area is mostly well lit, though the occasional spot exists where a personal form of illumination would be useful. No appreciable changes have occurred in these rooms within recent moments, except for the barest incremental decrease in volume for a few selected wines therein. Except for the wailings of Rens and the heavy footfalls of Kathryn (and maybe the almost protestations of Laurent), it is quite muted. The surroundings are not conducive to the rebound of noise, echo nor ambient. Huge casks surround all here, in ordered sections and a decent amount of space between them.

*****

As the differing tour groups have converged in Storage outside of the Tasting Room, it is safe to assume that there is clear and even view of all parties between each other. This ease and clarity of view extends to the door leading into the Tasting Room, and vice versa. At that exact moment, however, attention is aptly being diverted to the spectacle of a very large and imposing woman, merrily leading a middle-aged landowner in an impromptu dance to the a cappella rendering of a song unfamiliar to these parts, and might I add very badly. Master Rens was one with extraordinary gifts for wine, not the entertainment arts. It showed.

Tarace Mosswater clutched a handkerchief to his mouth in a fit of manners, now that said orifice was agape in a manner most ungentlemanly. His lifemate Barbal, on the other hand (quite literally, as it turned out) had shoved the side of his outstretched right hand into his mouth, like he was giving the world's least accurate military salute. He bit down hard - hard enough for his eyes to water - as he tried not to lose himself in gales of whooping laughter. Tarace pulled absently at Barbal's sleeve, seemingly unaware that the gruff Halfling was fighting for his life to stay upright, whispering words that no one, not even Barbal, heard. "Is this..? Was this..? Humans do this? On purpose?"

Ever the proper lady of business and extended means, Cecily had more of a shocked expression on her face, marveling over the novelty of it all. She regarded the pair of them, Kathryn and Monsieur Laurent, engaged in the most awkward dance that the Mistress of the Estate had ever personally witnessed. Cecily occasionally was able to tear her eyes away from them to slap immediately in Rens's direction, as the man just kept singing. There had to be something in the wine. Or the air. Or some enchantment from one of the spellcasting types, wherever they were right then. If there was a saving grace to this carefully collapsing social situation, it was that no one was paying attention to the door, which was otherwise in plain sight.

MEANWHILE:

Chauncey readily found the out of the way spot upon Kosara's person whereupon he might remain, though in a sort of unvocalized suggestion, the diminutive rodent pawed at the pendant around his Tiefling handler's neck. Otherwise, the little guy was fine with attaching wherever there was a good spot of cloth and hanging on with its wonderfully articulate grasping paws, resting in a pocket with a fizzy head poking out, or just keeping low. Very amenable creature, that Chauncey.

Lizbeth had busied herself looking into one of the displays along the wall, this one being a now open cabinet full of curio. She carefully lifted out what looked like a sheathed, lightly curved blade in dire need of work and polish, next to a series of oddly shaped coins. There was a slightly conical helmet present as well, with a veil of extremely rust-damaged mail attached. Her studious regard of these artifacts was brought to a close by Annick's appearance, startling her into dropping the helmet back onto the shelf. It made more noise than might have been preferred. A shot of fear was seen in Lizbeth's eyes, not just because of the sudden break of quiet, but also held in the glance made in the general direction of the huge, looking box atop the slightly raised area. She noted that no one seemed to want to look inside, and this gave her a note of relief to add into her swirling anxiety.

The young lady did take in the fact that they were leaving quickly, and heard Baronfjord's name mentioned. She held onto the tarnished weapon in one hand and said in a shaky voice, "I'm coming, too." It seemed like she felt a need to convince herself.

ALSO MEANWHILE:

From the top of a rise, Baronfjord might make out the scrutiny of two front-facing eyes reflecting the lamplight as he makes his slow walk back in the direction of the Estate House. Blood drip, drip, drips from his wounds, marking a path back to the scattered snow of his fight like a crimson trail marker. The call into the air after the departing bird, made known only because of its earlier cry, goes unanswered. It's cold, but it's quiet. At least, it was for a good long number of seconds, until a voice could be audibly heard from the defiled remains of Toombes, "Thank you for a lovely party. You have been an excellent dancing partner. I have learned enough from you tonight. Please tell your friends I also look forward to learning from them. Enjoy the rest of your evening." Subdued chuckles fade quickly into the night.

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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"Oh my," began Victoria, her attention diverting from the table's contents in front of her and over to her Tiefling colleague, who had brought out her own summoned companion. Just in that moment, she didn't quite recall seeing Kosara summon up this little guy since ...ever. "Good idea. I had forgotten about that." In the fight which liberated little Chauncey, Victoria had dispatched and temporarily reanimated several rats in a blatant ploy to overwhelm Chauncey's former master and hoped that the little guy didn't bear a grudge. But as it looked, the summoned rat didn't seem to care about her presence in the least. Maybe it wasn't aware. Maybe that was for the best.

Off in the distance, a spirit in the form of a black, generally diurnal bird fought against colder air to rise to a decent gliding height. It had been given a set of instructions and was bound to follow them on behalf of its Mistress. The first thing that it did was, when it had achieved enough elevation, was bank in the direction of the Coach House and, when within shouting distance, let loose with two sets of three short CAWs, and turned in the direction of the Estate House. It dove low, as best a Raven might in the darkness, its purpose only to get within communication distance with Victoria.

Inspecting what she could about the setup on the table, Victoria was curious to see that Kosara's summon had returned, and rather quickly. She froze for a moment, aware of what command her associate had given it. Someone was coming. They had to wrap up quickly. Still, she hesitated, getting a flood of sensory information to her mind without having bid for it. It was unexpected, yet ironically familiar all at once. But the information that she was able to translate from the mental connection was unclear at first, focusing in the direction of the main road leading off of the Vineyard, and the agreed upon signal of urgency she had communicated to it before she sent it off into the night. "Baronfjord needs help," she said rather directly.

It was at this exact moment that Annick found her way into the doorway, which gave Victoria a startle. At least it wasn't Cecily who walked in on them while they were being ever-so-slightly dishonest, but her message was clear enough: "Cecily and her group are coming this way now. Kathryn is trying to stall. It's embarrassing, but it's working. She sent me in here to fetch the both of you." The older woman made a gesture as it say WRAP IT UP, and moved to keep her own vigil at the door with it pulled nearly closed.

In her haste, and without the best of ethic or consideration, Victoria opened the journal to a spot somewhere in the middle and lay the grape bunch pendant, fancy stick, and as yet unread paper inside. The dirt, she left there. Graveyard soil was useful in many circumstances, but this was not a time to give this specific dirt a harder look. With Annick present, Victoria reiterated her point from just a moment ago. "Baronfjord is in some kind of trouble." She then elaborated, "I don't know what kind. My Familiar will have already given Morty a signal and he should be on the way now." She intended to leave the building outright, and in fact probably needed to in order to prevent her thrall from wandering off or getting its control usurped by whatever power had this place. At least so that it could find her readily. She looked to Kosara, not knowing whether she wished to come with or continue the investigation quietly here, either one of which would have made tactical sense to the Bard. "How do you wish to proceed?" Either way, Victoria was off.

Back in the Coach House, Morty's nonexistent senses of reason and initiative failed to spark. It was capable of understanding and fulfilling the standing orders given to it, and while it did not have the desire to, persay, its unflinching loyalty birthed of a lack of sapience and animation by necromentic energies did well to compel it to action. Its mistress had handed off Ritual books and some arcane supplies to it, and the walking foodstuff clutched her slim, silvered sword within its sheath with its mouth. It was to move as directly as it could while avoiding obstacles with these belongings to Victoria, where she might be as best equipped for trouble as she might, regardless of what it might be. In truth, though, Morty was stymied by simple, enraging physics. Being as it was a solid creature, it was unable to move through solid objects, itself. The doors were closed. If Morty had the capacity to feel stupid, it might have happened just then. If Morty was skeletal and had opposable thumbs, this might not have been an issue. But there it stood, in front of a closed door, held back from fulfilling its standing orders because of a lack of foresight.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Greetings once again, Edgelords and M'Bladies! We have a bit of a situation building up, but what fun would this be if everything was easy? All I can say is that, like a video game, if you start seeing trouble it means that you're headed in the right direction. To wit, here we are. Whereas violence is always an option, it's really only a viable one for Baronfjord right now.

To BB's situation: What can be communicated has been communicated through DMs and I am waiting on a roll to be resolved before I can make a hard and fast ruling on how the events will proceed. At a crossroads, like. But we'll get into all of that in DMs or in our Discord OOC and get it sorted right out. All good here.

To Kat's stall tactics: They worked. Mostly. Congratulations for that, even if we do have one making for the Tasting Room despite your best efforts to keep the groups centralized. The bit with Rens is flavor text; the gilding put over the more mundane explanation that almost everyone decided to stay put on account of Kathryn's antics, raising the party atmosphere for those who, deep down, wanted something less formal and more ...boozy... Cecily did say no, but she's still sticking around.

Those in the Study: Kosara's new little friend has tipped her off that someone is coming. Past that, descriptions for what she found in and on the desk are in our DMs, do with that what you will. As far as Victoria is concerned, there hasn't been enough time to do a full accounting of the journal, and there sure as hell hasn't been enough time to complete the ritual with the graveyard dirt. So that's where she is with that. Info to ask questions, not enough to answer them yet.

Per our usual, let me know if I missed something, and please be in touch via Discord for thoughts, comments, questions, and rulings/die rolls. And of course:

Stay tuned for the next exciting episode of "Avonshire: Wintering In Wine Country" where the hits... hurt.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Tasting Room & Study

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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: Remaining largely the same as previous, the air is still, cold, and only occasionally showing light movement. The snow falls gently, passively, accumulating with a series of patters that resembles very soft white noise. It's kind of nice.

Time: Mere moments have passed since the last update, according to the great timetable of the realm It is still night, about the same time as before with naught but a little more snow upon the ground to serve as pale indicator.

Ambience: This night is an absolute wonder of nocturnal winter escapades. One might see a snowy white fox on out and about, playing deftly with an errant bit of branch like a cat with a ball of string. Gossamer moonlight filtering through wide, lacy snowflakes almost seems to offset the blood staining the ground in the general vicinity of the meeting spot along the thoroughfare.

Within the Winery, it is more or less comfortable of temperature, though it is notably colder in the production areas as opposed to the Tasting Room (and Study). It is reasonably well lit within the production areas thanks to spaced, mundane lighting, though many dim areas remain that might demand a personal source. The Tasting Room and Study are both evenly bright. Production areas are clean and well maintained thanks to the efforts of a well trained staff which is proud of its work, and storage areas keep wine mostly in large casks as opposed to bottles. Insofar as the Study is concerned, things are as described before, but it might be appropriate to say that it is a place full of organized disorganization.

*****

With Kathryn moving toward Cecily and Annick making her way into the Tasting Room (as per agreed upon planning), it looked like the two groups were about to merge a little nearer to the Tasting Room, where as far as the owner was aware, absolutely nothing was happening. The adventurers and the Medician knew better, though they were trying hard to keep that from being common knowledge. This was proving to be harder than initially expected. To begin, Rens was eating up the attention provided, though had little in the way of useful conversation to add to the moment. The most that was gotten out of him, upon asking him directly what his favorite beverage here was, could be summed up as, "Oh, but no, I couldn't possibly pick out just one. I'm a craftmaster, and most of the wine in here was made under my direction. Now, the last Master of Wine had a fine head for this, too. In fact, my favorite of HIS, if any's still around, is likely kept in Master L'Rose's private rooms. I dare say it is no longer held in casks in Storage. Perhaps we might find our way..?"

The interaction with Cecily was, in its own way, successful, though not in the manner originally intended. She smiled and took to the flattery with grace and humor, but did draw the line at having a dance with Kathryn. "Oh, I don't know if that's proper, really. Besides, we were just on our way into the Tasting Room for a refill of the Honigblume. Perhaps you all should join us and we can just make it one big tour? How would that be... Master Rens, are you okay?"

The suggestion for Rens to sing a song was unfortunately taken seriously, if only the older man might have struck up the courage on his own to implement it. The Dwarven maxim of "finding courage at the bottom of a bottle" was put to task, as he took it upon himself to imbibe heavily from the wine receptacle her was using to dispense samples to the others, wipe his face, and walk forward with timid uncertainly, like he had come to a decision about something but needed that extra push for implementation. From his throat issued a baritone which quavered at first, but settled into a slow, steady cadence as he went on.

Without music.

In the middle of Wine Storage.

"Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Black Betty had a child, bam-ba-lam
The damn thing gone wild, bam-ba-lam

She said, "I'm worryin' outta mind, " bam-ba-lam
The damn thing gone blind, bam-ba-lam
I said, "Oh, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam"

Cecily looked on with muted horror as her Master of Wine carried on in the manner which he did, curious as to how long he'd hidden the fact that he sung. Badly. But Rens felt very much alive in the moment and began to belt out the next couple of verses with even less inhibitions, his imprecise tune filling every corner of the underground rooms.

"Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
She really gets me high, bam-ba-lam
You know that's no lie, bam-ba-lam

She's so rock steady, bam-ba-lam
And she's always ready, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam
Whoa, Black Betty, bam-ba-lam"

Annick had begun to make herself scarce already. The Mosswaters looked upon the spectacle with their own sense of impropriety mounting, except while Tarace was as taken aback as Cecily, Barbal was turning red from holding in what might have been a mighty guffaw. Monsieur Laurent, on the other hand, let out a quieter issuance of, "I've had enough of this. Sober anyhow," and turned to move in the direction of the Tasting Room, none to far away at this point.

MEANWHILE,

In the Study, the diminutive Chauncey appeared before Kosara in the manner of a summoned creature, gave a loooong stretch and flexed its manipulative little paws, then took to its orders presently. He gave a little wave and scurried off, taking point at the still open door to the Study. Chauncey poked his little nose out and kept sharp eyes pointed at the entryways to the Tasting Room, hopefully hidden well enough to avoid detection.

From the somewhere in the Winery, singing could be heard. It was not particularly good singing, and the nature of the song was different from the usual local options for music. What could be heard and understood, in any case. The voice was unfamiliar to anyone within the Study, and Chauncey, if that mattered. Familiarity or not, shortly after the singing began, the summoned Rat made its way back to Kosara's line of sight. It reared onto its back legs and chittered quietly, waving its front paws in the air as to get his Mistress's attention. The criteria of its orders had been met, and the response given.

EVEN MORE MEANWHILE,

Blood left an irregular spattering across the snow near the Meeting Spot, far away from every other living soul that Baronfjord knew in this area. The fight continued as the indomitable Monk squared off against the tireless foe, the latter performing especially well for a lesser Undead creature, generally without the gift of cognitive ability. But this one seemed to be different somehow. As blows continued to be traded, offered, or evaded, the loud cry of a bird could be heard from somewhere overhead - specifically, a croaking caw common to larger black corvids.

Skele-Toombes did not cease its assault against Baronfjord to the best of its ability, but the Voice could be heard issuing in calm, even amused syllables. "Is that one of your pets, come to save you? I didn't think something like you capable of a trick like that. It may wait its turn, like the rest." One could day that the fight continued, but a better description it that it didn't even pause.

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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"Jon, is it?" Victoria's voice was polite, sweet even, but her posture spoke of a mix of impatience and urgency. While this was not exactly her first break-in, this was definitely the first one in a home that took her in out of gratitude. Usually, Victoria's hypocrisy only went so far. "Jon, you seem like a decent, industrious man of the land, so I'm going to be open with you. You deserve that." The smallest pause to regard the man was had, before she leveled with the guy who was, at this point, technically an accomplice. "The safest place that Lizbeth can be right now is near the professionals. She might even be a help to us. By extension, herself. If she holds insight to details that we might overlook, it makes her valuable. If anything goes awry, we are the ones in the best position to hold things together while she goes elsewhere. Like with the Ankhegs." Victoria did not throw any details about the Ankheg incident into the conversation, as she wasn't fully sure what happened with a couple of the details. She had her suspicions, though.

Entering the Study finally, Victoria took a quick glimpse around to see what might pique her interest first. The large box on the raised platform was the first thing which captured her attention, but it wasn't, in her estimation, the most interesting thing in the room. Her eyes scanned over a few things which might be considered minor treasures in their own right; weapons recovered that looked not dissimilar to the short blades recovered from the "corpse delegation", with some variance. Some of the wine she did not recognize. The books and papers seemed organized in ways that were non-standard at best. But there was one table that appeared to have specific purpose in mind. A circle of dirt was upon it, and it was flanked on either side by what looked like a journal and a very fancy stick on a folded paper. The grape-bunch pendant inside of the circle also drew attention, perhaps more than the rest as it seemed to be a focal point.

Curiosity was sometimes a curse and sometimes the catalyst to higher things. Victoria hoped that it was the latter this time as she gingerly picked up the black bound journal and began carefully turning pages. Confusion played on her face for a second, but then she continued reading. "Arnaud L'Rose was trying to learn Ritual Magic. This..." she gestured to the setup on the table, "...is an imperfect attempt to do exactly that. It's like he was trying to substitute significant components for actual magical ability. This dirt here? Graveyard soil. Taken from someone's final resting place. It looks desperate. What's funny is that it might have worked. There are lots of uses for graveyard soil, but this is a first for me. He was interrupted before he could finish." She peered at the necklace in the circle and suddenly came to a realization: "He was trying to identify any magical properties in this item!" Apparently, with graveyard dirt.

Out in Winery Storage, Annick took to Kathryn's whispering with affirmation and a measured amount of confusion. Yes, she was fully capable of running errands into the Tasting Room, but it now looked like all of Cecily's group was moving in their slightly plodding way back in the direction of the Tasting Room at once. There was time to intercept, but if Annick was to think up a lie, she needed to do it fast and/or trust that Kathryn had her own plans. Whichever way, she moved in the general direction of the other group in case she could be of help. "I'd better be compensated for this," she growled quietly, waiting for her opportunity to fulfill only the terms of her agreement with the younger warrior.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Wow, I am late getting the OOC post up. Big oops on my end. In the spirit of "I'm doing this on my phone when I should be sleeping now," we'll keep it brief.

Kosara and Victoria have a new area to poke around in. Possibly a few treasures which do not actually belong to us. I wonder what the dice will reveal. Hmm...

Annick is on board with Kathryn's plan, but it doesn't look like Cecily is. Either way, they are looking to make a pit stop before continuing the tour, so... think fast?

And Baronfjord. What can I say? The actions of your opponent has been sent, best of luck with what follows.

So for everyone who's doing what they do to make this a success, thank you! Now let's roll is some dice in the Discord, see what shakes loose.

EDIT: The map for the Tasting Room has been updated to account for the broader venue.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Tasting Room & Study

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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, and naught but an occasional puff of wind to upset the quiet and natural course of the evening. Snow is snowing, and in fact is starting to pick up its intensity. It is still quite gentle.

Time: It is night, and with it come nighttime things.

Ambience: The evening over the Vineyard and grounds beyond, even the town of Southmoor, can be qualified as both soft and grand. The partial moonlight was been momentarily supplanted by the heavier cloud cover, but lamps along the thoroughfare keep the darkness at bay along the most obvious paths, even as it seems to deepen the darkness beyond. It's a peaceful night all around, with one very important exception.

Inside and underground, in the beating heart of the Rose River Vineyard that is the Winery proper, the cold doesn't bite remotely as hard. The rest of the facility was noticeably cooler than the enclosed Tasting Room, which maintains a closer grouping of candles and lamps, not to mention (until recently) it was a spot of more physical activity. The production and storage rooms are reasonably well lit, though a personal source of illumination might not hurt things if one attempts to discern detail, and of course, sampling is encouraged. Expected, even.

*****

The tours inside give distinct contradiction to one another, as the dimensions of the Tasting Room grew insofar as the people's access within it increased. In this instance, the sudden opening of the locked door to the Study increased the available walking space significantly. At first, a secondary barrier threatened to prevent access to the anxiety-making room, this in the form of yet another door five feet or so in. It looked very much like a slab of metal, bound with metal, with no discernible lock or handle. Luckily, this was circumvented easily enough by sliding it to the side - walls here were solid stone and the door retreated back into it with relative ease - and in this case, the locking and barring mechanisms were on the inside of said door. This gave it the appearance of a reversed vault, where one may lock themselves inside with their treasures instead of the other way around.

The moment the door opened, a soft sourceless light filled the study, allowing for ease of reading should one feel the need, without the immediate onset of eyestrain. Lizbeth began to follow close behind those entering her grandfather's study, softly proclaiming, "Wow. I've never been inside of here before." She suddenly remembered that Kosara had asked her a question before the Medician effortlessly picked the door lock and left in a huff, and answered her. "Um, I ah, don't really know. But if the wine was at least sixty years old, then I guess it would have to be part of the original vineyard. That or they built the distillery off of the property. I don't know if that helps, sorry." And while she said the words of apology, her heart was more into the possibility of what lay beyond the doors.

Luckily, within the general vicinity of the two doors, nothing seemed to be set off by their being opened. No hollow clocking sounds coming from deeper in the walls, no sudden puff of air as if a dart or dose of powdered paralytic was released, no tiny trapdoor which only served to sever one's foot away, merely the expected exchange of air from an room not used recently with one that had seen more traffic. Thanks to the sourceless light, the setting, or the obvious parts of it, were within easy view. What one sees here gives the impression of equal parts office, secret wine stash, and archaeology exhibit.

A raised platform dominates the far wall from the door with a sarcophagus sized box atop it. There are display cases containing curio, arcane seeming items, and the occasional weapon in differing states of cleanliness or repair. Books and papers are aplenty in here, organized in ways that likely made sense to whomever set this up, and to one side a couch, comfortable looking and well used. There is also a desk present in a little more order than the rest of the room. Wine bottles are in a number of different places, some in display cases and others just resting on nearby surfaces. In front of the couch is an interesting sight - what appears to be a small, black journal sitting next to a circle of what appears to be a circle of fine soil. Within this circle lay a pendant; a simple braided cord upon which hung an ornately carved wooden representation of a bundle of grapes. Next to the circle on the other side lay a short length of carved, black wood, approximately a foot or so in length, with a faceted, oblong, glassy bead near to the thinner tip. It was upon a sheet of folded parchment. There is also a locked box next to the ordered desk.

MEANWHILE,

Out with the tours, Rens is doing as good as a job as he can recommending Kathryn the occasional wine, as best put to her specifications as possible, even with a touch of relief on his face now that someone is actually giving him details with which he could work. Sure enough, he was able to recommend three such decent wined which fit the tall Knight's criteria and spared no time presenting samples of them to her. Relief turned into something more like actual happiness in the portly man's face, which slipped slightly into dread as Annick returned.

Annick made it her goal to pass along what she knew to Kathryn and soak up what planning was being unfurled from the lady. She gave Kathryn a quick, shallow nod in agreement, and the tour went on for another few minutes with the older lady, now with her shawl, being only slightly less vague as to her oenophilic proclivities. Still, her glass got a few more samples in here and there, and the evening went on for a bit longer.

From the production area, voices could be heard approaching storage. Well, just the one voice clearly, that one being Cecily. One can clearly hear her over the murmurs of the others, posing a question: "So, Monsieurs Mosswater, Mosswater, and Laurent, what would you say to getting another glass of the Honigblume before we take a look at the vats, hmm?"

MEANWHILE AGAIN,

The details of Baronfjord's current drama are quite current and quite dramatic. In that one spot, far removed from the party, blood stains the otherwise immaculate snow. Neither the blood nor the snow show signs of stopping.