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: Snow picks up now with a little more force than previous. The charming winter evening is slowly turning unpleasant as the minutes tick by. Once puffy and slow-falling flakes now descend at the diagonal during calmer winds, and nearly horizontal when it picks up.

Time: It is near officially in the middle of the night. The hour is not witching, but it's thinking about it.

Ambience: Increasingly inclement weather is making comfort and good footing difficult, but it is not so bad that one cannot get around. Absent the full snow coverage or personal labours of present, the scene of the fight is still a choppy mess of rustled snow and spots of now frozen red. The increasing snowfall is steadily muting these details, as much as it's burying everything else. Luckily, the lights set out at the beginning of the evening are still burning brightly with clean, slowly consumed oil.

*****

Lizbeth trudged on in the direction of the meeting spot along the main road, keeping pace with Kathryn as best as her comparatively shorter legs could manage. She had tucked the scabbard of her very recently acquired short blade into her belt (alongside the leather whip that was merely masquerading as a belt), but pulled the weapon itself. Owing to her training with both Kathryn and Urmdrus, she proficiently, albeit mechanically, shifted the weapon into a safer position for running. Not that there was a lot of opportunity for safe running, thanks to the puffy layer of snow upon the ground which was covered by something a little crunchier. Booted feet kicked up sprays of the white, frozen stuff as she hustled along.

While she was not quite as quick to set one foot in front of the other, Cecily joined them. She did, after a moment, get more of her head about her. The Lady of the estate emerged from the back of her mind, through mild intoxication and the dread of what was happening outside, allowing her to speak in a calm, decisive manner. "Master Rens, I'm afraid that this year's Honigblume tasting is over. Please locate Jon and the two of you stay indoors for the evening. Pick a guest room for yourselves. Monsieurs Barbal, I can't order you but you are very welcome to do the same. I will be back shortly." Cecily pulled her shawl over her head and fastened it down to prepare for the night air, then followed her niece and Kathryn down to the site. Rens nodded with shocked acquiescence and immediately went to check the other areas of the Winery in search of his colleague. Tarace and Barbal, both at a loss for words, merely shrugged and looked to each other as if to gauge their thoughts on the idea.

Jons, for his part, remained in the Tasting Room. His cup was about halfway down again and his hands carefully constructed a simple cheese sandwich with the items laying about, blissfully ignorant of everything going on around him.

The next the party as a whole saw any of these people, it was the hulking, dress-wearing figure of their resident Knight, sword bared, appearing in the lamplight from the gloom of the evening. Behind her came the smaller, but no less armed and dress-wearing form of Lizbeth, her amber-honey hair reflecting the light in stark contrast to Kathryn's darker locks. Behind them both, at a little bit of distance, was Cecily. She was obviously not happy with the weather, but came at the request of her guests nevertheless. Someone was hurt.

Unfortunately, someone was more than hurt. Coming upon the scene, the first thing which could be heard, aside from footsteps impacting snow, was a shriek coming from Cecily. As it turns out, when one voluntarily runs upon a gooey, disembodied skull floating midair, it tends to greatly upset the common, everyday folk. This shriek was cut short when she got enough of herself together to avert her eyes to the ground in hopes of denying the traumatic sight, hoping against hope that whatever horror this was might be handled by the much better equipped Adventurers behind which she stood. Unfortunately, this merely gave her a better look at the abomination on the ground, now partly decorated with drifts of snow. This was an example of a Thing Which Should Not Be, and as such, reason left her alongside the contents of her stomach. Still behind Kathryn, Cecily retched once and fell to her knees, sinking into the frozen precipitation on the ground. From this vantage, she very unceremoniously vomited earthward.

On the other hand, Lizbeth was quiet, aside from a small, primal noise of instant, mounting dread. Fright dappled about her face and she gripped her sword tightly, holding it out in front of her as if ready to ward off something particularly nasty - it wasn't a perfect stance, but she was at least defaulting to her combat training. It was at this moment that the color left her face as well. She stopped shivering against cold and fear, suddenly motionless save for voluntary action, her face a paler shade than it was a moment ago and eyes seemed dark and deep set. She exhaled once, and was still. One, two, three steps forward, Lizbeth brought herself a little further away from the light and near to Kathryn's side, far enough out to be safe from one of the tall lady's sword strokes. Martial practice had apparently served her well.

Suddenly, Cecily gasped out a few words from her place on the ground: "That's ... gods above, that's Toombes! He loved showing off those ...tattoos... ah." This was immediately followed by another moment of tearful retching.

Finally, Lizbeth spoke in a distant voice, "Toombes was popular in the villages here. This cannot be kept quiet for long. People will ask questions." Her new sword remained in front of her, motionless.

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

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Weather: Snow picks up now with a little more force than previous. The charming winter evening is slowly turning unpleasant as the minutes tick by. Once puffy and slow-falling flakes now descend at the diagonal during calmer winds, and nearly horizontal when it picks up.

Time: It is near officially in the middle of the night. The hour is not witching, but it's thinking about it.

Ambience: Increasingly inclement weather is making comfort and good footing difficult, but it is not so bad that one cannot get around. Absent the full snow coverage or personal labours of present, the scene of the fight is still a choppy mess of rustled snow and spots of now frozen red. The increasing snowfall is steadily muting these details, as much as it's burying everything else. Luckily, the lights set out at the beginning of the evening are still burning brightly with clean, slowly consumed oil.

*****

Lizbeth trudged on in the direction of the meeting spot along the main road, keeping pace with Kathryn as best as her comparatively shorter legs could manage. She had tucked the scabbard of her very recently acquired short blade into her belt (alongside the leather whip that was merely masquerading as a belt), but pulled the weapon itself. Owing to her training with both Kathryn and Urmdrus, she proficiently, albeit mechanically, shifted the weapon into a safer position for running. Not that there was a lot of opportunity for safe running, thanks to the puffy layer of snow upon the ground which was covered by something a little crunchier. Booted feet kicked up sprays of the white, frozen stuff as she hustled along.

While she was not quite as quick to set one foot in front of the other, Cecily joined them. She did, after a moment, get more of her head about her. The Lady of the estate emerged from the back of her mind, through mild intoxication and the dread of what was happening outside, allowing her to speak in a calm, decisive manner. "Master Rens, I'm afraid that this year's Honigblume tasting is over. Please locate Jon and the two of you stay indoors for the evening. Pick a guest room for yourselves. Monsieurs Barbal, I can't order you but you are very welcome to do the same. I will be back shortly." Cecily pulled her shawl over her head and fastened it down to prepare for the night air, then followed her niece and Kathryn down to the site. Rens nodded with shocked acquiescence and immediately went to check the other areas of the Winery in search of his colleague. Tarace and Barbal, both at a loss for words, merely shrugged and looked to each other as if to gauge their thoughts on the idea.

Jons, for his part, remained in the Tasting Room. His cup was about halfway down again and his hands carefully constructed a simple cheese sandwich with the items laying about, blissfully ignorant of everything going on around him.

The next the party as a whole saw any of these people, it was the hulking, dress-wearing figure of their resident Knight, sword bared, appearing in the lamplight from the gloom of the evening. Behind her came the smaller, but no less armed and dress-wearing form of Lizbeth, her amber-honey hair reflecting the light in stark contrast to Kathryn's darker locks. Behind them both, at a little bit of distance, was Cecily. She was obviously not happy with the weather, but came at the request of her guests nevertheless. Someone was hurt.

Unfortunately, someone was more than hurt. Coming upon the scene, the first thing which could be heard, aside from footsteps impacting snow, was a shriek coming from Cecily. As it turns out, when one voluntarily runs upon a gooey, disembodied skull floating midair, it tends to greatly upset the common, everyday folk. This shriek was cut short when she got enough of herself together to avert her eyes to the ground in hopes of denying the traumatic sight, hoping against hope that whatever horror this was might be handled by the much better equipped Adventurers behind which she stood. Unfortunately, this merely gave her a better look at the abomination on the ground, now partly decorated with drifts of snow. This was an example of a Thing Which Should Not Be, and as such, reason left her alongside the contents of her stomach. Still behind Kathryn, Cecily retched once and fell to her knees, sinking into the frozen precipitation on the ground. From this vantage, she very unceremoniously vomited earthward.

On the other hand, Lizbeth was quiet, aside from a small, primal noise of instant, mounting dread. Fright dappled about her face and she gripped her sword tightly, holding it out in front of her as if ready to ward off something particularly nasty - it wasn't a perfect stance, but she was at least defaulting to her combat training. It was at this moment that the color left her face as well. She stopped shivering against cold and fear, suddenly motionless save for voluntary action, her face a paler shade than it was a moment ago and eyes seemed dark and deep set. She exhaled once, and was still. One, two, three steps forward, Lizbeth brought herself a little further away from the light and near to Kathryn's side, far enough out to be safe from one of the tall lady's sword strokes. Martial practice had apparently served her well.

Suddenly, Cecily gasped out a few words from her place on the ground: "That's ... gods above, that's Toombes! He loved showing off those ...tattoos... ah." This was immediately followed by another moment of tearful retching.

Finally, Lizbeth spoke in a distant voice, "Toombes was popular in the villages here. This cannot be kept quiet for long. People will ask questions." Her new sword remained in front of her, motionless.

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 (Main Thoroughfare) Action: Skill Checks (Medicine, Arcana) Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

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It was strange what one can get accustomed to in a short span of time. Not too long ago, Victoria didn't have the ability to bring her lesser undead thrall into being, and now she had so many day-to-day uses for her Morty, especially while traveling, that she wasn't sure how she got along without the ability before. And more recently, her Familiar - a companion and magical resource that was usually the province of Wizards, rare beyond rare for someone like herself - with it looking over Lizbeth elsewhere on the grounds, Victoria felt a little exposed without the use of its senses or availability to assist. And to a lesser degree, with her ritual books left under the watchful sockets of her thrall (where was that swine, anyway?), she was unable to manifest her Phantasmal Steed, the fastest, spookiest equine that she had ever beheld and, as one of her summons, was infinitely easier to ride than any mundane animal. Point of fact, without these at her disposal, it felt like her usefulness was noticeably reduced. The Bard had come to rely on their assistance. It was part of who she was, now.

Without them, Victoria would have to rely on naught but her formidable social skills, specialized spellcraft, basic skill with a long blade, notable wit, remarkable acrobatic proficiency, and literally superhuman charisma to fall back upon. Whatever is a lady to do?

The walk out to the site had been cold and uneventful, even if it felt like an event might occur at any moment. Morty still hadn't shown up yet, and so Victoria surmised that if he wasn't there by now, he wouldn't be. Something had happened to prevent the porcine companion's presence and she had to move forward with the situation. No sword, no books. Good knife, though. It would have to be enough. During the walk, Victoria listened to Kosara's musings about Laurent, and while she did not disagree with the concept of dealing with the man in such a way, this wasn't going to help anything. It reminded the Bard of Kosara's actions in the Public House back in the Avonshire Township, which was a situation that, while Victoria didn't start it, she handled it with more gusto than was necessary. The party Tiefling then went about making the situation worse. Again, principle of the thing, Victoria agreed with her. In practice, inflicting some manner of comeuppance upon the man, while certainly fun, would bring more trouble than she was willing to deal with. So she gave Kosara a smile and nod, but did not contribute to the conversation.

The suggestion that Victoria might have some added insight into the very strangely worked-upon corpse was valid, but first, she wished to handle a more mundane examination of the poor, dead fellow. It began with a quick and simple look at the qualities present in the skin, but the lighting just didn't want to work with her and the freezing temperatures had stiffened the material, not to mention discolor to a point that her ongoing studies in anatomy and medicine just weren't good enough to decipher. "Bad conditions to investigate. I should need to examine the remains elsewhere. Maybe while I'm not chattering my own rhythm section." It was a touch of sarcasm, but it was birthed of frustration. She could tell nothing from the remains as they lay there.

Dealing with her knowledge of all things arcane, she took a fresh look at the man she assumed was Toombes. "No... I cannot tell exactly, but this doesn't look like a basic Animation. I cannot say specifically what it is, but I would like to try and identify it in other ways." She did have spellcraft at her disposal, which would cut through a lot of difficulties. "I can ask him a few questions, but they will be limited. I shall wait for the others to arrive before I attempt this, but... Where did you say his skull was? I'm going to need something with a mouth. More or less. The skull will suffice nicely." It felt a little weird saying it out loud like this, but it was within her wheelhouse. This was one of the things she had the magical resources to accomplish, be it a more recent development. In fact, the slightly excited expression on her face spoke volumes toward the fact that she was looking forward to doing this.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Ello ello again, the update had been updated. It may look a little anemic, but that's because a couple of you who had specific questions and some rolls got your info to work from me over the past couple of days. To wit: You've got your info, do the things with it. However, as we are winding down the party aspect of this segment. However, it does look like the investigative part might be back on! As of yet there is still the issue of the Study, as well as Toombes's rather artfully but psychopathically repurposed into ...whatever he got warped into.

Also, we now have the added bonus of the landowner from the next farm over seeming to make a vow to cause the party trouble. Best of luck with that. But hey, it's not all bad! The wine from the party was truly masterful. I'll understand if this isn't come as a huge consolation.

ANYWAY, you know the drill. Comments, questions, die rolls, etc., please be in touch in our Discord. There's stuff aplenty to see, do, and find out yet to come.

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: While the weather is not terrible, per se, it is moving from the seasonably tolerable, bordering on idyllic, to something a little bit rougher. It looks to be getting worse by the minute. Winds have picked up more than a tiny bit as a continuation of the previous, and quickening snowfall travels now in winding spirals, borne upon stiffening winds.

Time: It is in the gloomy throes of night.

Ambience: The area around the attack upon Baronfjord is a mass of kicked-up snow and spots of crimson, frozen among the white, frozen landscape. The corpse of the former Master of Harvest lay where it dropped a few minutes ago, apparently untouched by powers either mystical or mundane. There is a scattering of fresh snowfall across the scene, like the beginning of nature covering over the display of the unnatural.

Inside, things remained as quiet as previous moments. The Winery had a sort of quiet comfort for those accustomed to it, even if there was the rare, occasional sound of fermentation from the other room making its way with soft murmur. Cecily, Barbal, Tarace, Rens, and Kathryn remain here to discuss the aftermath of the gathering, even though it seems to be stopping a little early. No one who remains seems to show any regret, it being a full and eventful night.

*****

Cecily responded to Kathryn's suggestion to find something good to toast the evening to, giving an even and matter-of-fact "The evening is about sampling the Honigblume harvests. It is only fitting that we end as we began. But we cannot end the evening without the other guests present. It just isn't proper." She had mentioned this before, but it looked like no one from the group present moved to locate the others. Barbal and Tarace looked to one another, as if telepathically drawing straws for who had to do it. They did not exactly come to a full and mutual consensus of opinion in the intervening time. Rens, the extroverted Master of Wine, did his level best to attempt to find something interesting on the far wall; the idea of him stepping out into the cold to find the others was positively unappealing to him.

Lucky for everyone involved, this decision didn't have to be made amongst themselves. Less than a minute later, Lizbeth ran into the Winery Storage, a shocked expression on her face and her newly acquired weapon sheathed but in hand. Directly behind her, a serious looking Raven trailed, fluttering its wings to bring it to a stop so that it may perch on the girl's shoulder. It looked a little awkward at first, but the creature settled in. "BB was attacked," she said abruptly. "He was hurt. Mademoiselles Kosara and Belmont took care of him, but now they're going back up the road. BB wanted me to get Lady Kathryn and you, Aunt Ceecee, to go to them. They're on the lit path to the meeting spot." The girl pointed back to the door from which she had entered, taking a half-step in that direction without realizing.

Jon remained in the Tasting Room, nibbling on a piece of bread. With a slow, guilty glance around, he poured himself another glass of wine.

Outside, near to the meeting spot along the road at the scene of the skirmish, Laurent was fast to snatch his reins back from Baronfjord. Both ill and ill-tempered, the obstinate Human still had a few things to say, which he felt were of great importance. "You shall unhand me, and my horse, you blue-scaled ruffian! I'm under no illusion of understanding what has happened here, but nothing like this has happened along the river before the lot of you showed your faces here! I am convinced that you brought this evil with you, and I shan't rest until you and your foreign accomplices are set ablaze or run out of town; either is satisfactory!" His face was one of both fear and repulsion as he reared his horse to the side and continued down the path, attempting to spur the beast to greater speed, despite the horse's unwillingness to move too quickly over snow.

The corpse, defiled and twisted into a creative but literally hollow mockery of the once living agricultural worker lay still, its semi-tailored skin clothing, ornamented with tattoos (including one very fresh one) lay freezing about the man's bones which were still slick with icy blood. One might locate its skull laying in the snow fairly nearby.

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 (Main Thoroughfare) Action: Spellcasting (Prestidigitation) Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

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Victoria did try her best not to get blood on her nice, new finery. Some of the pieces she was wearing were scavenged from the envoy of dead people and were incalculable of age, yes, but it was excellent material and she had just acquired it. Plus, the vain-conscious Bard looked damned good in liberated silks and cashmere. In fact, Victoria might even go so far as to say that the black and gold pashmina shawl was her favorite article of clothing, surprisingly containing absolutely no purple coloring whatsoever. It would be a shame and a pity for her to damage such lovely fabrics in the mundane but necessary pursuit of healing her adventuring associate. But she would, as one does, were it necessary.

Luckily, it was only a bit of sanguine liquid make its way to her clothing, which was easily cleared away (even in the midst of an emergency) by a quick casting of Prestidigitation; the spell taught to apprentices and novices of the magical world as the basic dweomercraft to harness the least powerful but ultimately most versatile expressions of magic - and the one she wound up using vastly more than any other in her repertoire. It made the inconvenience of bloodstains trivial.

Her appearance righted to her satisfaction, Victoria took to heart the words stated by her wintertime mentor, Annick, with a sense of sarcastic derision. Then again, if anyone did have an inclination to not accept a full uprising of the living dead as an excuse to miss training, it would be her. The older woman's sudden disappearance directly thereafter surprised even the magic-using Half-Elf with her fluid transition from "now you see me" to a most decided and deliberate "now you frigging don't." As far as she knew, Medician Floquet was completely mundane - that is to say, not a drop of realized magic within her ability to manipulate. Still, impressive.

The exit of Monsieur Laurent was far less impressive. If he wanted to go out there and get himself chewed to pieces by ravenous, bloodthirsty powers which lurked in the darkness, that was his problem and his responsibility. Victoria was not his keeper. And he was very rude to her fellow adventurers, even after they cleared his fields of Ankhegs. His wobbly gait was no concern of hers, though she did feel a little better that his horse was sure-footed. All in all, good riddance.

Speaking to one being steady on their feet, Victoria was glad to see that Baronfjord was up and moving with his former grace and fluidity. She was not expecting for him to want to go back to the spot where his injuries took place quite so quickly. If the threat remained, which she doubted because of Baronfjord's uncontested presence here, at least he would return with some magical backup. Before she followed him, Victoria turned back to Lizbeth. "I agree. You should go to your aunt." Then she had to readdress what she just heard Baronfjord say. He wanted Lizbeth to bring them up to the road? Much as she didn't want to rick the girl's safety, Victoria hoped that he had a profound, useful purpose in bringing them out in a potentially dangerous night. "Lizbeth, dearest?" she began contemplatively, "Take this with you." The Bard's ebon feathered agent swooped down from its elevated position to meet up with its mistress. It landed on her outstretched arm and, by mental command, went to Lizbeth. "Should you need my help, tell it to come fetch me. Yes? Good."

And so, Victoria took off, following Baronfjord back up the way he had come. No Morty, which puzzled her. No Raven, who she still hadn't come up with a suitable name for just yet, and no sword. To add upon the situation, Victoria cursed lightly under her breath as the much speedier Monk seemed like he was already halfway there by the time she took off, running across snow. When she finally caught up at the scene, she was a little winded but intensely curious as to what precisely she was looking at. Aside from the vomit, and the haughty Human on horseback.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Well, the random encounter rolls are in, and... I'm not saying. However, it is safe to say that the wine tasting, such as it is, is winding down early. As previously stated, any NPC which were under the control of you all have reverted to myself, and exits are being made. Along those lines, notes are being taken which involve the characters' interactions with the NPCs, which will have an effect in future events. The good news is that no one especially got into any trouble so far with anyone important, and we all learned valuable things (whether we realize it or not). There are also new areas of investigation open for those who wish to do so, or we can all wait for events to escalate to their horrifying, logical, following steps. Either way works for me, and I do love a good dark comedy.

Per our usual, please be in contact with me in our Discord for questions, rolls, etc., and let me know if I missed something. For now, be thinking about how you want to wrap up the event for your characters. Best of luck with the upcoming.

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 increasing winds drag falling snow in a slightly more irregular, diagonal path. The temperature is appears to have dropped some in the intervening minutes noticeably, but not to an extreme amount. This might be a precursor to a chillier time as the evening deepens. Burt for now, the night is tolerable, provided you have all of the blood in your body. Another spot of positive news; in the places where mortal combat had not been practiced and signs of it break up the continuity and/or color of the gentle snowdrifts, it's still quite picturesque.

Time: The sky is dark, the moon looms above. If this is daytime, then we have some problems.

Ambience: The exterior of the Winery bore witness to the aftermath of the duel between something unnatural and one of the party. There is a depth of unease surrounding this event, as the implications which may be taken from this event are troubling. In any case, the environment seems to have reasserted itself with the wintry wonderland of hills and snow, quiet except for the wind, apparently untroubled by the rest of the world.

The interior is going through a bit of a wind-down, as just over half of the guests have left the Winery proper. Remaining now are Cecily, Barbal, Tarace, Rens, and Kathryn, with Jon having kept to himself in the Tasting Room, sipping wine and nibbling on fancy bread with little idea as to what is transpiring in the greater setting. Throughout the Winery, and more specifically Storage, nothing of note has changed, except for the people within. It's rather comfortable in here, with nary a hint of echo.

*****

The Medician continued about her way, out of sight of prying eyes as far as she might tell. Having arrived on foot, she removed herself from the drama the same way, utilizing decades-practiced stealth to minimize her interaction with ...well, anything. There was a brief pause and a shake of the head as she came across something not too unexpected, given the circumstances, but still alarming to witness. She observed, and silently made her way back toward Southmoor with a disgusted expression.

Laurent, on the other hand, decided that leaving loudly was his best option. "I shall not be subject to this tomfoolery any longer!" he declared to Baronfjord with raised voice. "I do not answer to you, nor anyone else here. Now I tire of this, and I will be off. Good evening." The last two words were presented with as much bile as one might when wishing a good evening, and Monsieur Laurent stomped off in the direction of the stables. It might be said that he was ever-so-slightly shaky in the application of his footsteps on his way to the outbuilding, but his horse was surer footed than he upon his egress. Even this was short-lived as, when passing by something which might have upset him greatly, a talented listener might have heard a shouted bit of unseemly profanity in an undignified, higher pitch, and retching noises coming from up the road.

Lizbeth, apparently ready for battle despite having had no experience with it whatsoever, did not hesitate to look relieved when the immediate possibility of it relented. She nestled the whole of her newly acquired weapon into its sheath, but kept a hand near to its hilt. Lizbeth looked nervous. Her response was noncommittal yet concerned. "I ...I want to stay close to all of you, but I'm worried about my aunt, too. Maybe we can figure something out?" Unlike the others, she made no move to leave.

Back indoors, Barbal laughed heartily and shook his head. Halflings were known to be people who appreciated creature comforts as well as outsmarting particularly annoying Big Folk, and the most recent events appeared to check off all of the boxes in these regards. "Ah, I've been waiting for someone to show up that blowhard - the Human thinks that because he inherited some land, he's better than the common folk. Fellow like that needs to taken out for a spin once in a while, eh?" He nudged Tarace with his elbow and exploded into more gales of laughter.

Tarace, on the other hand, held a perplexed look. When Kathryn mentioned miracles, he was set on shaking his head to the negative. "I didn't do anything. Really. He, um... he started talking before I did. I think, ah, and don't quote me on this, but... I think he didn't mind the manhandling. I don't know. He asked me to pass along the message and I said yes. Maybe he has an angle?" The softer-spoken Halfling shrugged, fully lost in what just happened.

Barbal stopped whooping in laughter for a moment, long enough to suggest, "I don't know if we can top this one tonight. How about we have one more drink and call it for the night, Madame Cecily? Unless you have another surprise for us? How 'bout you, Master Rens?"

The Master of Wine kept quiet, merely shaking his head and wetting his whistle with a long sip of fine grape fermentation. Cecily, on the other hand, managed to shake herself out of her situationally induced shock and respond to everyone in one burst. "Oh, Kathryn, think nothing of it. We will be talking about this Honigblume Tasting for a long time yet. Very long time. And no one got hurt, right? Yet still, I think that I agree with Monsieur Mosswater. Let us toast our evening and good fortune, and I shall have domestic staff handle everything else in the morning. Oh, be feel free to take whatever you need from the Tasting Room; there is nothing wrong with a bite in the small hours." She waved everyone in the direction of the Tasting Room, intoning, "But it is a shame that Toombes couldn't make it tonight. He loves these events. Hmm. Oh, might someone please fetch our remaining guests?" Her words and actions pointed toward the obvious conclusion that she was completely unaware of the actions just occurring outside.

Meanwhile, outside, the only sounds across the snow covered hills of the Rose River Vineyard are those of gusting wind, and the creak of swinging lanterns.

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 (Outside Winery) Action: Skill Checks (Perception, Medicine) Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

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When Victoria joined Annick in the cold outside, pulling her fine garb about her a little closer as something of an afterthought. Already she focused her senses back into the perspective of her Raven, trying once again to gather detail on the shape approaching even if it left her more vulnerable back in her own body. When the figure revealed itself nearer to a lamp as their missing comrade, Baronfjord, the Bard allowed herself a sigh of relief. She relaxed the grip on her dagger, an action that she wasn't fully aware she had done until just that moment.

By this time, Kosara had arrived and provided her own magical illumination which contrasted sharply with Victoria's senses, having just occupied them behind a metaphorical feathered mask. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust, revealing a now closer blue Dragonborn and his obvious wounds. The change in light also prevented her from appreciating the actions taken be the newest outside arrival, Lizbeth. Her head turned slightly to see that the girl had liberated a weapon that was a little more lethal than her whip from her grandfather's study. In that moment, Victoria was curious as to what else might be in there - but there were more pressing matters.

"You're injured," she said, voicing the obvious. "Madame Floquet, might you?"

Her question might have gone longer, but for the brisk intonation from the Medician, "Your group. Your task. You know how to do this." She nudged the kit in front of her with her foot, causing it to slide in Victoria's direction. "I'll let you know when you start to screw up."

Victoria eyed the older lady with mild annoyance, but knelt to pick up the kit. "Come on, BB. Let's get you down in the gazebo and take care of that." Whether or not they used magic to seal the damage, the atypical Necromancer thought it best to remove the glass and assess the damage for other threats beforehand. The process was actually incredibly fast, considering Victoria's only quite recent apprenticeship, but the older Medician had imparted a great deal of wisdom upon her, and she already had more than adequately dexterous hands. At first, she might have thought that him being a Dragonborn might alter the steps that needed to be taken somehow, but wounds were wounds, apparently. Deft movements removed glass and debris, quick packs of clean, fallen snow helped to numb the area and constrict bleeding. Victoria began to smile despite the situation. The satisfying feeling of being useful for things one would not expect of her. The goal in training with Annick (who was watching with approval, giving the occasional nod or monosyllabic sound of approval as her pupil went along to help guide) was to become better versed with anatomy, the purpose being to make her a more effective practitioner of the Necromantic Arts. But this? This was genuinely a good feeling in helping her adventuring associate. "Alright, you look good. Everything has been cleared out and it doesn't look like you damaged an important artery. But this... I recognize a couple of those injuries. Whatever's out there is getting more aggressive."

As it was, Victoria had a ace up her sleeve as it came to healing. Just one simple incantation that could keep the worst of an injury down; certainly enough to stop Baronfjord from getting any worse. And her mundane healing skills she had been studying. "I have some healing magic, Baronfjord, if you would prefer it to stitching. Though I believe that Kosara has far superior magic for knitting wounds than I."

The arrival of Laurent, nor Baronfjord's words of concern for his safety moved Victoria much. Maybe it should have, as honestly, he had no overt way of knowing that there was something dangerous going on this night, but this didn't seem to register in her thoughts, and certainly not in her actions. Instead, she chose to ignore his presence unless he decided to become a threat. Lizbeth, on the other hand, looked like she was ready to go to war. Nervous maybe, but weapons ready and without hint of retreat. Like herself, Lizbeth was a student. Unlike herself, practicing her craft in the middle of her training could very well get her killed. "Lizbeth, respectfully? You should stick close to us for a while, else keep to the main house. Whatever is happening here - it has escalated."

This was Annick's cue to gather herself together and make a solo exit. "Yeah. It has. I have a daughter to get back to. Keep the kit; you might need it. Oh, Miss Belmont?" She paused for a moment, making sure that she held her pupil's attention, "I will not accept an undead uprising as an excuse for your absence. Training continues as planned." She turned and began to stalk off into the darkness. It was step for step at first, but soon the older woman began moving at a slight crouch, faster and more smoothly than a woman of her years might have comfortably, until she fully faded into the night.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Here we are again! Obviously my connection issues have cleared up and we're good to continue. A few things:

1) Baronfjord can definitely see the group of women in front of the Estate House's winery entrance. If he chooses to book it, he can make it there during this cycle. Remember, he's still got an issue with glass and wounds from bone shards in his torso. Luckily, he's moving toward two people with curative magic and a very experienced mundane healer. ...and a Necromancer. Either way, he's got options!

2) Laurent will be joining the group outside soon. Do with this knowledge what you will.

3) I am officially taking the NPCs back over, starting now. Congratulations, object achieved. This will reflect positively for those who participated at the end of the Act.

4) No one is officially out of the woods yet.

So, here's the part where I ask you to get with me in our Discord if I missed something, and for any questions, clarifications, and for die rolls to include results therefrom. Thanks a bunch and I look forward to seeing those posts come in.