Normally Kathryn could sleep like a freshly laid stone on a newly mortared foundation. She had some issues this night though. Mostly the comings and going of traffic, and sharing a room with people who were unfortunately still strangers to her. It was also not helped by the fact that she was not only the first to bed, but the last to wake up. Donning her armor and weapons she prepared for the day. Though she didn't expect to get into combat today she figured it was better safe then sorry. As she finished getting ready she hoped that the groups internal problems had burned out, if things picked up again they would need to be put towards a stop before they were allowed to rekindle again.

The morning was calm compared to the night before. What did catch Kathryn's attention was the amazing smell of Breakfast. Kathryn picked up her pace and made her way towards the table each step in her full gear sounding like a fast paced march. At the table already was Marita, Victoria, and Kosara. "Mornin' Ladies." She spoke with a tone of someone who had already downed there morning coffee and was ready to enthusiastically take on the day. She then took notice of Guido who explained another letter and their current situation.

While he spoke Kathryn proceeded to start loading up her plate with the various breakfast foods. Bacon, fancy breads, eggs, sausages, jams and butter, and most important, Bacon. She listened in as he spoke going through her breakfast as he did. They would be receiving locals support but not from the local Sheriff directly. Seemed pretty strait forward, though that does remove the man for potential questioning about the letter situation. Maybe his support man will know something about it? "Thank you very much." She said towards May as she brought over morning tea. She turned to face Guido as well. "And thank you too for your assistance." With tea and breakfast in hand there was nothing that could stop the Half Giant from ruling her day now.

Kathryn took a few more bites of her food before speaking. "SO where are we startin' today? Askin' locals about the missing people? Retracing the letters to find the hiccups? Splitting up? Grouping up? Following up with those who have returned? Exploring the town outskirts? I'm open to options. Still pretty new to a lot of this stuff." Though the letter situation gave some concern towards internal trust she figured at this point she couldn't focus on that too much. Plus, if things went south she was still prepared for a fight if need be. Though she had no solid experience against spell casters should it come to that. Nor against stealth fighters or monks. She was a total expert at taking problems head on with brute force, but outside of that her experience was lacking. "Or we could just stay here and corner every single person who walks through those doors until we get some answers? I am game for a lot of options really." Then she continued with her breakfast.

Hugh suppressed a sigh of unrestrained relief, as the portal to the room admitted Victoria. He then sighed in truth and turned about face at the sight of her casually stripping, affording the Bard what privacy he could in these circumstances, as she stowed her little “friend” and slipped beneath the covers.

Clearly, he’d been right to take initiative on this matter. While he was somewhat wary of laying his head to rest in the same room as a Bard -or necromancer, for that matter- out of sheer caution, it was shamefully all too preferable to dealing with the tiefling. As things were, he’d not have been able to sleep a wink.

That said, it seemed that social landmine had been defused for the time being. He’d not seen hide or hair of Naivara, but… In hindsight, she was a Druid, and a not so well socialized one at that. Honestly, if she’d decided to make her lodgings for the night elsewhere, even outside in the cold, he’d not be able to find it in himself to blame her one bit. He just hoped she didn’t turn up dead or traitorous overnight; that would be rather unfortunate. With that in mind, one spellcaster charge was good enough for the time being, and Hugh allowed himself to drift into the land of dreams for a while, where he was visited by some rather bizarre dreams involving a national dance-off and a pig that looked suspiciously familiar.

(/._./)

Hugh, as was his habit, woke with the dawn, grimacing beneath the sheets at the notably more biting autumn chill seeping into his bones. He blinked lazily, quietly rubbing the morning crust from his eyes, before deciding to stay right where he was.

After all, his charges were still sleeping, if the sight of a slumbering Victoria was any clue. Rolling his jaw, Hugh grumbled under his breath at the realization that he’d likely have no time to train seriously for the foreseeable future, as he contemplated where exactly he’d misstepped in life. Eyeing the letter at his bedside table, he sighed quietly.

Probably the second he’d subconsciously promised to take up this blasted mission.

Gripes aside, at present, he had a job to do. Training would have to be postponed in large part due to the still non-zero chance of his charges suffering an “accident” were he not present. He’d wait until at least one of them had already greeted the day before making his own way down.

Speaking of which…

Victoria stirred, and Hugh shot her a dry two-fingered salute in greeting. He rolled over to face away, as she began to -with some notable haste in the sound of her movements- pull on her clothes and freshen herself up for the day. Once the sound of rustling clothes had come to an overall halt, Hugh sighed and relinquished his own fluffy shield from the chill, grimacing, as he hopped a bit in place to start warming up his muscles somewhat.

As he wasn’t much of a sweater when sleeping -and the chill being omnipresent as it was, he hadn’t bothered to change out of his normal wear for the night, aside from shedding his cloak, which he promptly re-donned from where he’d slung it over the edge of his bed. He set about combing his short, shaggy brown hair, so that it at least didn’t come across as bed hair and ran a hand across his jawline, mulling over the presence of a light amount of stubble. It was nothing long enough for him to bother shaving so early, certainly not anywhere close enough to make his neck itch, so he decided to leave the ever so faint shadow be for now.

His quarterstaff appeared to have remained undisturbed in the night, which was a relief, and he gladly removed it from where it was propped precariously against the window, giving it a small comforting thump against the blue carpet spread across the majority of the room’s center.

Briefly, he glanced over to the stirring form of Naivara, recalling the Druid’s rather conspicuously late arrival in the night. If he hadn’t already consigned himself to taking watch for a portion of the night, he honestly might not have heard her enter. But between his own nerves and the sound of the door opening, her arrival four hours into the group’s collective rest had managed to be both relieving and further nerve inducing, considering the circumstances.

There was no use making a mountain out of a mole hill at this juncture, however. He had already resolved himself to approach potential suspicions with as objective an eye as he could manage. While a disappearance at this juncture was potentially extraordinarily suspicious, he didn’t yet feel as if he’d misjudged the quality of her character and experience. It was quite unlikely that she had the will or capacity to be an insurgent.

Well, nothing for it now.

Hugh slung his pack over his left shoulder and entered a somewhat warmer hallway, the heat from downstairs having managed to linger somewhat longer without many windows about to help it vacate the premises. Plodding lightly downstairs, he smiled lightly at the far more toasty dining area.

His own personal prep being far more meager in substance and length, Hugh arrived to the distant sight of Victoria just now reaching the reserved table once more, the place rather surprisingly -if pleasantly- populated by the entirety of the other room that had been allowed to their “adventuring” party. It did also appear that the rather… underdressed Guido was currently present

As he approached, Hugh couldn’t help the gradually rising brow at the sight of the rather exorbitant amount of food laid out on the table. It was visibly far more than the party could hope to consume in one sitting unless several of their number happened to have a Bag of Holding for a stomach. Additionally, he was starting to get a bit unnerved by how accommodating their patron was, especially given that there were twice the expected number of hires present. He couldn’t help but feel a small pit begin to grow in his stomach, as he wordlessly sat down -once more as far from Kosara and now Marita as he could manage- and claimed a loaf of bread, some cheese and a couple sausages for himself.

He eyed the large platter of sausage and bacon with an amused upturn of the lips, eyes flicking briefly over to Morty. Coincidence or snark? Who could say, but it was certainly amusing all the same.

The smile died in its infancy at the news of their patron’s absence. Could nothing in this job go right? First, a compromised mission. Then, unreasonable associates. And now, their client was oh-so-conveniently absent at a most critical time? Surely, whatever business called for his absence wasn’t more critical than personally assuring the security of this quest from the get-go?

Also, who was he meant to present his revised reward request to: the Sheriff’s subordinate? Would such a person even have the authority to speak on behalf of what he might or might not be able to request?

He only just barely managed to bite back a sardonic response to Victoria’s either optimistic or naive assertion. “Fate” was a fiction, a farcity that only the weak-minded clung to in order to justify their own shortcomings and misfortunes. To any with the will, such a fantasy as “Fate” was merely an inconvenience, nothing more, and inconveniences were all quite overcomable… and far more easily so than any might imagine. He would take “going according to plan” any day over a so-called “adventure”.

That said, he’d hold his tongue on the matter for now. No reason to potentially breed animosity between himself and the third member of their troupe. So long as such thinking didn’t directly impact the party’s performance and results, he’d not be bothered. Besides, her optimism carried a certain world-weariness to it. Perhaps, she was merely trying to keep the group’s spirits up. Personally, he’d rather have frank reality than a hopeful fantasy, but he could hardly begrudge whatever let the others function properly.

His appetite was already waning, but Hugh forced himself to eat regardless, frowning pensively. He managed to smooth over his expression enough to politely receive the strong warm tea being delivered by May. He shook his head in amusement at her acidic attitude and responded, “This is all quite more than sufficient. Nothing further for myself.”

Kathryn’s bevy of rather… interesting suggestions (especially the last one) for proceeding gave him a fresh appreciation for her inexperience in this sort of job. She even explicitly mentioned such. For her sake, at least, Hugh did feel some need to clarify things. “The disappearances aren’t significantly numerous in Darenby’s area to provoke even an offhand mention, so I can think of little reason to stay here beyond investigating the mailing system and hopefully presenting Naivara’s and my own revised reward requests to a qualified associate of our client. I can, however, say for near certain that openly interrogating the people of this sleepy town will not go well, unless we are rather lucky. Unless anyone has pressing business beyond that, the Avonshire Township proper is where we are best bound as soon as possible.” He ensured his tone was merely clinical and not correctional throughout, presenting the facts as he knew them and leaving off with a rather open-ending… opening for others to present their own cases. Personally, he was quite partial to the idea of performing initial investigations in Darenby, but with a mere week to bring back initial results, they couldn’t afford to stay away from the epicenter of trouble for even a single day unless absolutely necessary.

Buttering up a slice of bread and humming thoughtfully to himself, Hugh mentioned somewhat offhand before returning to his meal, “As an aside, considering their worth as potential leads, I did take the liberty of ensuring our letters were not lost in the ruckus last night, since the rest of you seemingly abandoned them. I’ve already returned Naivara’s to her, but if the rest of you would like your own, merely say the word. I’ve no attachment to them beyond ensuring we keep hold of them.”

(/._./)

AN: So I don’t have to waste time in my own posts for it down the line, simply assume that if anyone asks for their letter back, Hugh will retrieve the neatly folded stack from his bag and wordlessly hand over the correct one, having kept track of which was which by his particular investigative/obsessive means.

"A fine morning to you all, esteemed colleagues," Naivara said cheerfully as she joined the others at the table. Her moonlight jaunt had been restorative. She felt recentered. She felt ready to deal with the complexities of conversation once again. The acres of woodlands scattered across Avonshire was hardly the untouched forest she had longed for, but Naivara had relished her time among what remained of the wilderness. She liked people. She really did. She enjoyed conversations, confusing as they could be. People were fascinating in their own multitude of diverse ways. However, people and talking in high amounts tired the druid. She needed the forest. And she needed the quiet of the wilderness to find balance once more.

The plants had spoken of a coming frost. The insects had vanished, no doubt, burrowing into tree stumps and the earth to shelter from the approaching cold. The animals she had encountered during her walk across the darkened landscape were much as she had expected. Skittish but not overly so. Winter might come early to Avonshire it seemed, but Naivara could not detect anything unnatural about the changing season. The exact pace of the seasons was unpredictable and remained a mystery even to the most studied of druids. There were hints and whispers, of course, signs to perceive, and follow, but always, always there was a bit of mystery.

Naivara had returned to the Infamous Pear at a late hour, only some time before dawn. She hoped her footsteps had been silent enough not to awaken her new companions. Her rest, her nightly trance, had been strange and full of unfamiliar dreams. Her dreams had brought her back to the strange matter of the letters. She had recalled the ballad of the storied Elven knight-errant Ser Peren Meliamne, Oakenheel in the common tongue. It was a singularly unhappy tale, a great tragedy, concerning the legendary servant of the god Silvanus, the Oak Father. However, Naivara preferred to think of it as a story of great dedication, rather than one of tragedy. An oak leaf had seemed to dance before her and there might have been a unicorn or two in the distance. Unicorns were the favored creatures of the goddess Mielikki, goddess of forests and Daughter of Silvanus, she recalled upon awakening. Naivara had no gift for prophecy. She did not subscribe to beliefs regarding the value of visions.

She was no cleric steeped in rituals and holy passages. Perhaps it was a warning, a message from what lay beneath her conscious mind. Perhaps it was a suggestion. Any deeper meaning eluded her but did little to trouble her. She had learned from the forest and the wild creatures that inhabited the Great Eastern Forest. Wisdom was to rely on her own instincts. She had no tongue for prayer and did not overly concern herself with thoughts about any gods. Any messages, whatever they might be, would reveal themselves in due time she reasoned, and she turned her thoughts instead to the impressive selection of breakfast foods arrayed in front of her.

"Our host is most free with his generosity, is he not? What a kind fellow," Naivara added, as she sampled liberally from the assorted food. Her plate was soon full of food. A mountain of bread covered with honey and jam, a hill of scrambled eggs, a desert of cheese, and a sandy beach of baked apples. Unconvinced by the sausage at such early an hour, Naivara chose to leave it untouched.

The inhabitants of the other rooms eventually made their way down to the taproom of The Infamous Pear in no especial order or set time, a one looking sleepy here and another eager to get into the meat of the day there. Breakfast continued mostly uninterrupted, with the exception of once or twice when Guido saw fit to casually edge his way over, for some reason absolutely certain that there might not be enough scrambled eggs or loose tea for the group's morning repast. he didn't say a word, but did seem to be keeping his eye on things. Lucky for all parties concerned, he seemed to have put on pants. Pants were useful.

The morning meal was requested of the few overnight patrons, again with varied tastes and with varied ability to pay; the least of which still got something warm and nourishing even if it was just toasted bread, fruit, and tea, before they went about their day. And true to the nature of this fine(ish) Inn, a few locals popped in for something to get them going on their way to whatever livelihood kept a roof over their heads. Upon these occasions, when the door opened one might spy a rime of frost covering any untouched surface. The sun was not quite so high in the clear, azure sky as to touch these places of muted ice in any meaningful way, yet enough illumination was present to see that, while winter was not upon them yet, it might be arriving early. The first frost of the year was claimed the region of Avonshire, and before the ending of Harvestide.

The otherwise quiet din of ante meridian chatter and shuffling was suddenly shattered by the sound of a door flying open and slamming against the wall behind it. This door led to the simple lavatory, such as it was, located within the premises. From said lavatory sprung a very confused looking individual - a blue-skinned Tiefling of noble bearing, clutching his belt as he viewed the party assembled at the table yet again, a demeanor of charged consideration upon his features. A horrified and thoroughly convinced NOPE might be gleaned from his expression, verified by his immediate bolt out of the front door. Mr. Owen Hardy, emerging from a back room just in time to see this for himself, declared aloud, "I was wondering where he'd got off to..." before shrugging and beginning to set up his bar for the day.

The roguish Tiefling was not the only person to make use of the flung-open portal to and/or from local booze, oh no; this moment was also capitalized upon by a lady of respectable proportion, sporting a shock of shorter, ginger hair and a grim countenance. She wore the rugged brown coloration of a local guard and a brooch sporting a sheaf of grain below a rising sun pinning her cloak together. Human, by appearance, and holding a piece of paper in a black-gloved hand. She immediately made her way to the Adventurers' table and looked carefully over all present, making quick notations of, "...Human, female, clergy..." As she went through the qualifiers to get to whom the paper was intended, eyes took in details of those assembled, as if studying or memorizing. Finally, and after a bit of a pause, the paper went to Marita Bärbel. With broader intonation intended to address the whole of the party, she spoke, "Light bless your morning. I was sent by the Sheriff of Avonshire to bid you along on your task. Outside of this place there is a mule-drawn wagon. This is at your disposal for the interim; the Sheriff suggests that you leave it under the care of a stable owner named Fields in the Township unless you care to pay for its upkeep out-of-pocket. Otherwise, be my authority limited, I speak on the Sheriff's behalf. Is there anything else that needs to be addressed before you depart?"

Any choosing to take a gander outside will be greeted by the sight of the aforementioned cart, just off of the street. The a thick draft mule stares mindlessly ahead, seemingly unaware of the uncomfortable temperature around itself. The occasional lift of a leg or twitch of an ear punctuates its still and quiet stance. It is hitched to a wagon which looks sturdy enough, possibly appropriated from the army to look at its unadorned but effective design. There is a mass of canvas and a few large sacks of what might be fodder neatly tucked away in back, the canvas apparently designed to be stretched over the top of the framework on the wagon to provide shelter for persons or goods therein.

Marita was both kind of happy that Victoria had noticed her make-up and rather annoyed at the way she complimented her. She couldn't help but feel she was getting a sarcastic jab in at her even when the words were spoken with what sounded like utmost sincerity. There was just something about how she carried herself that made Marita question how much of what she said she actually meant. At least she didn't have to worry about that with Kosara. She wondered if the tiefling was even capable of sarcasm. In response to their compliments she tried to smile politely, her mouth filled with food as it was but mostly failed.

Botched attempts at pleasantries aside, the cleric couldn't help but notice the... creation Kosara was assembling. She had become reaccustomed to the ways commoners ate, removed from the etiquette expected of fine dining, but this was beyond that. This sort of stunt was something that an unruly child would concoct before discovering after a correction from mother and a nasty stomach ache hours later that there was indeed a reason people ate things the way they did. Marita shook her head and tried not to look that way again.

So she glanced over towards Hugh. He sat as far from her as possible, which was understandable if a bit petty. Still, he wouldn't be able to do this forever and she was a bit curious how long he would manage to keep it up before some circumstance forced him to not avoid her. It would be very easy to play the same game back at him, but when she said she would forgive him, she meant it Zone of Truth or no. And while she had no desire to befriend him, she did want to make him see the error of his words. She would prove that her calls for group unity were not hollow in the slightest and make him acknowledge her, even if he'd never admit it. Ah, speaking of which.

"Quite, interrogating every random passerby is about the least productive manner by which we could conduct this inqu- investigation." Marita corrected her slip of tongue. It was common practice in the temple to refer to any sort of investigation as an inquisition and that bit of slang hadn't left her. She shifted her body position and began to speak more officially, addressing the entire party. "Knowing what little we know now the best lead would be to talk to the friends and family of the known disappearances. If we had more time we could have tried to look into the letters, but I believe the closest traceable messengers is Father Restoff who is 10 days away. Everyone else is either of unknown location or identity. If you really want to get to the bottom of the letters, then trying to dig up something quick while we're still in town would be the best time, but I think that at worst we'd be wasting precious time better spent elsewhere. There's also that potential lead that Hugh discovered before the meeting day. I don't recall if he ever said outright what it was, but seeing as how he hasn't brought it up now, it's probably irrelevant. Finally,"

"Finally, we could look into the client ourselves. I don't want to doubt the man who hired us in the first place, but he has acted rather suspiciously up to this point. That said, I'm still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt, but I'm not ruling out the possibility that that is a potential road we might have to go down."

When the lavatory door flung open Marita looked over to spot Alastor? They made eye contact for a fraction of a second before he ran out. If she wasn't so confused about the entire situation, she perhaps would have tried chasing him down, but she lacked the presence of mind to even think about such things. The appearance of the stout guardswoman only served to bring her back from that odd experience and begin focusing again. Based on the pins she wore, she likely worshipped Lathander and Chauntea, two locally respected gods with whom she bore no issue. The greeting further confirmed her suspicions. Regardless of who she worshipped, it was nice to see someone pious who wasn't explicitly part of a church's internal hierarchy. Before her exile, Marita hadn't truly known the extent to which service to the gods was merely lip service paid when in a temple or when they were in need of something.

Marita accepted the paper and took a look inside. Aha, at least he had remembered to give her the form she had requested. After confirming it was what she had expected, she folded the slip again and returned her attention to the guard. She could read it over in detail later. She listened to the stated instructions and was not sure how to feel about it. She was fairly sure that this wagon had not been brought up before, nor if they actually had need of it. And mules were rather odorous. But it could be helpful. That aside, she couldn't think of a question she would give this subordinate rather than Gregory himself, but maybe someone else did, so she remained silent for the time being and waited to see if anyone else spoke up.

It looked like the gang had all filed down, each giving a prime example of the personalities they wished to show to the world as if the table was a mosaic of differing psychologies. The study of the sentient mind was not foremost in Victoria's intellectual pursuits, but the actions which were to come in the days following would have a serious impact on the outcome of their venture. Social situations, as it were; a study in which Victoria was well versed.

For starters, the irrepressibly positive nature of Kosara contrasted with the overall tone of the morning, which might have been a good thing, thinking about it. Victoria extended her morning greetings and answered her compliments with a perky, "Thank you!" while offering wordlessly to pass over what portions of breakfast were not within her ready reach. The cheese upon bacon upon cheese sandwich did warrant pause, as Victoria pondered how Kosara maintained her delicate frame with such a diet. A flash of envy caught her when the thought that it was possibly a benefit of Tiefling metabolism, even though she really knew nothing about the physicality of those whose bloodline was touched by the lower planes. For all she knew, her own hybrid Fey background might provide similar benefits, though Victoria was not about to indulge thusly just yet. Now, those apples, on the other hand...

Dreams of baked fruit were shuffled to the side when the "half-giant" who ruffled her hair stepped toward the table. Victoria offered a pleasant "Good morning! Bracing, isn't it?" in response to Kathryn's morning greeting. Indeed, the weather had turned to the chillier side of autumn, from the feel of things. Addressing the proposed plans of action, Victoria diplomatically responded (even as others had their own retorts), "Those are fine ideas. When we get to the township, of course. To add to your question," she paused just long enough to dab a bit more honey onto her bread, then smile in appraisal of the sweet, amber goodness, then continued. "Do we split up to cover more ground in our own unique ways, or do we hit them all together?" Subtlety versus numbers. "This 'investigating' thing has layers, hmm?" Victoria broke into a grin and sipped from her tea.

In contrast, Victoria chose not to respond to Hugh's assertion that the party abandoned their letters, but she did take note. Personally, she did not find any more relevance in the letter, seeing as its purpose was to get her to Darenby. To that end, it succeeded. Unless their employer was suspect in some way, it just didn't seem to matter. More than that, if they were going into this mission quietly, having a thing like that found on her person or in her belongings might aid in shortening her lifespan. Still, this wasn't her area of expertise, so with a shrug, Victoria extended her hand and took back her own letter. "I suppose one could prestidigitate it to ashes if necessary. Excellent firelighter, too." The letter found its way back into her hat. Then Victoria found her way to scrambled eggs before they grew cold.

She noticed that Naivara was also taking advantage of the hospitality of their hosts, so far as breakfast went. Between her and Kosara, she figured that maybe, just maybe, she was a little too concerned about her girlish figure, especially considering she had already given the thought to the day's travel. Yeah, she was definitely being uptight about this. It was time for a little palate cleanser, anyway. Leaning across the table, Victoria brandished a long, double-sided knife, deftly skewering one of the baked apples before settling back into her seat. The fruit still on the blade, she took a tentative bite and immediately issued a satisfied, "Mmm!" A puzzled look came over her for just a moment, then she quietly mused, "Cinnamon, I think..." The urge to take another bite, this one much more forward in nature, was heeded, and soon Victoria was urgently swiping up a cloth to catch what tried to escape from the warm, juicy apple before it was too late. She looked like she was enjoying herself.

Marita spoke, and though it was against her usual nature to take a firm side, Victoria found that she agreed with her. "If there's damage to be done with the letters, then it's already done. Either the meeting last night was a trap, or the job we just took is the trap, or this is all legitimate and there's something else influencing events. The only thing we need to worry about now is each other, and half of you had a good opportunity to kill me just last night, so..." She looked down at herself, noting that she was indeed still alive. Active, even. "So maybe we're all supposed to be here." She giggled. Forcing herself to stop, Victoria mused, "Or some assassin is playing a longer game. It's a little exciting, isn't it?"

Further musing brought her attention to the dwindling platter of meat on the table. "I wonder... seeing as that's a dish of once-living matter, could the broader animating force of basic necrotic energy be used to manipulate the material here? Might processed meat products find utility, or even martial use among the students of The Grey Requiem?" A look of wonder spread across Victoria's face as she pondered aloud, "Bardic Sausagekinesis! It could work. It could."

She barely paid Alastor any mind as he fled. It was completely out of nowhere, like a poorly timed punchline in a comedic play. But it did segue into something slightly more interesting, in the form of a representative of the Sheriff making her way to them, To her greeting, Victoria responded, "May Fate guide you to storied enlightenment," with a smirk. A paraphrased quote from a deity from whom she drew some of her teachings, and in truth more parting words than a salutation.

News of a wagon drawn by a pack animal was also interesting. Did they expect the group to carry cargo or haul back the bad guys? Or a better question, "Can any of you teamster a wagon?"

“Morning, Kathryn!” Kosara greeted back when her new tall friend appeared. The grand woman had once more donned her armors, making the tiefling want to pout. She will see those muscles one day dammit! In any case, the mood was nice with the warrior’s arrival. On the topic of the letter, aside their employer’s sudden preoccupation, Kosara found it of little importance. There wasn’t much place for speculation with this little evidence to draw from. The old Arbalest was of important status, so he indeed may be having a lot of things to deal with. They really needed to get out there and start gathering evidence and clues! A true adventure indeed!

Well then Hugh appeared. Given their interactions last night, there were many ways it could go. Kosara having almost finished the cheese and bacon sandwich and firmly holding it between lithe fingers, suddenly turned to face the, in her opinion grumpy, monk. She had a huge smile on her face.” Good morning, Hugh! Let’s have a great and productive day today!” She told him with a smile. Thus was her plan, thus was her goal! She will be friendly with him and if he called her pest or something alike again, she will exact righteous retribution one way or another! Well… given his reaction to her presence, chances were just being friendly and vocal around him was enough punishment. “ I will keep my letter! I will show it to Grandpa and my sisters when I return home in the future!” Kosara said and made sure the letter ends up in her bag.

She did turn to Naivara who also arrived.” Morning, Naivara! Hope you had a nice rest!” She added with a smile towards their resident druid… Could she use the term resident when they were a party since last night? If at that? Hard to decide, maybe maybe not. In any case she smiled to the woman and finally gave a nibble on her creation. Cheese and bacon sandwich was indeed good. Without the bread in the way it made the taste very different, though she made a thoughtful face, wondering how it could be made even better. It needed something more… juicy to make it flow better? Quite the ponder, she had to explore that avenue later.

“Well we don’t need to question people about the disappearances exactly though?” Kosara quipped when Hugh and Marita mentioned that going on an investigation and asking pointed questions wasn’t a good idea. She also giggled at Marita’s near slip in tongue.” Sure there might not be many of the cases in here, but it doesn’t mean there’s nothing of note happening. We are clearly adventurers, we can just ask people adventuring topics that they would expect us to ask? Maybe there’s nothing to find or maybe there’s something of note.” She added.” Also, we should check if there is a brothel around and ask the women there. The women working at brothels always know a lot of stuff!” As for how she knew that tidbit? Well she lived and grew up in a tavern on a somewhat busy desert trade road. Places like the Oasis where she lived were the lifeline of the traders, so naturally there were all sorts of services avaible. She knew a lot of prostitutes back home, lived with some of them. Those women knew stuff, a lot of stuff.” Well if we are on limited time in town, it’d be better to spread into pairs or the like to ask around and do preparations before moving on, I think.”

Then another new face showed up. Judging by the overall appearance it was a cleric woman!” Hello! My name’s Kosara, nice to meet you!” She greeted the woman right away. The cleric apparently was sent by their employer to deliver a message, a cart and to answer questions? Though the way she said it, it was less answer questions and more a reminder to get to work! Kosara was curious now, she was intently studying the woman while eating her cheese and bacon sandwich. Her eyes moved from the cleric to the bard.” Nope! I’ve only ever rode on wagons and carriages, never teamstered one! I’m certainly willing to learn, once we are out of town that is!” She quipped and looked at the others, wondering if anybody had experience in commanding a mule pulled wagons!

It was clear Kathryn lack of experience was extremely noticeable within the collection of her new party. Hugh and Marita explained rather well why Kathryn's many off handed suggestions were not practical and then started listing off much more practical options for them to try out. It was strange to see the two indirectly agreeing to anything after how the previous night went. She wondered if as a whole the two would make rather decent partners should they be able to work past their issues. They had a functional mindset of professionals, between the two they seemed to have a rather solid skill set to them, and they both had a rather aggressive ability to control a room. Kathryn listened intently as the two spoke enjoying her breakfast with every bite as they spoke. She wondered if school was like this? People with experience talking about their experiences over breakfast? That sounded like the life. Hugh did take the time to collect everyone's letters which Kathryn was not surprised she left her last night. She remembered a lot of beer the night before... "Thank you." She spoke with a tone that could be mistaken for a light musical hum. She took her letter before folding it back up and putting it into one of her belt pouches, deciding that it is not worth putting back into her marginally hidden pocket within her armor.

Victoria seemed overall much more relaxed this morning, but continued with the concern about the letters bringing up that if there was a trap it's already sprung. So it's either worked and they are already in rough shape or it failed and they could be safe to continue. "Not sure I would go as far to say exciting, but more of... confusing. But I don't know much about the assassining world." Kathryn shrugged to Victoria's response. Kathryn continued eating the rather amazing breakfast stopping after taking a bite of a sausage link when Victoria mentioned about "Necrotic Manipulation". "If we could not bring my food back from the dead I would greatly appreciate it..." She spoke a little uncertain if the small necromancer was serious about utilizing their meal for a great many purposes.

Naivara came down and seemed rather well rested herself. Kathryn did agree with her to about their rather generous meals so far. "I know right? I don't think I've had meals like this in years! Most Th'a meals I get nowadays tend to be grit or pahtatoes or some suspicious mystery meat...." she trailed off on the last one. She didn't like to think about what could be in that meat. And was even more thankful for the recent meals. "Suppose I should go a wee bit more easy on the meals huh. Or I'm gonnah really need that newer armor." She chuckled as she spoke. It wasn't a real concern of hers, she figured she'd either cut back or use the extra calories in combat or when she got a chance to exercise. It was the topic of food that finally drew Kathryn's late attention towards Kosara's sandwich. If one could call it that. "...Kosara.... Wha... Where's the bread... Ya can't have a sandwich without bread..." There was a genuian look of concern on Kathryn's face. As if Kathryn was a holy woman who followed a strict religion and Kosara has single-handedly attempted to disprove the whole thing and was making uncomfortable headway. "Don't get me wrong Kosara... it looks good but... The bread." The actions of their once lost Alastor pulled Kathryn out of her mortified state. She watched as the tiefling barged out of the restroom and then ran out of the tavern. "Hope he's doing alright..."

She took note of Kosara's comment about splitting up into pairs. "Uhuh?" Kathryn was beginning to suspect that Kosara had ulterior motives of some kind. But she couldn't be sure if they were in malice, perversion, or some other fashion. Kathryn is sure she'd figure it out one way or another. "Pairs seem a wee bit light if you ask me. But I am open to options."

As events started to take off more a human woman dressed as a local guard approached the table. Marita specifically it seemed.
Their help had arrived and she included a mule drawn carriage. Kathryn almost considered it romantic. Kathryn wanted a chance to prove she could be more then inexperienced muscle for the party and tried to think of something useful to ask their new helper. "Well I'm Kathryn. Do you mind if I ask your name?" She asked their new guide. "As well, do you think we could get the rough locations of where these missing person's cases happened? Or un-happened? See if maybe we could pick up a pattern or two?" She wasn't sure if that would be helpful or not thinking about it. "Maybe a map would be better? A visual reference that we could work with in hopes of uncovering something?" Victoria had asked about those who could manage a wagon. "'Fraid I don't got much experience myself. I ride a lot though? And I could probably pull a wagon if needed? But that may prove redundant in our case." She thought about it some more. If they did split up she hoped she got set up with someone who had a bit more experience in matters such as these. Kathryn was good at lifting heavy objects, crushing other objects, and fighting. Outside of that she could hold her own if paired with someone who knew what they were doing, but she lacked the skills and experience to do much on her own.

"Although I lack any traditional training directed towards the vocation of animal husbandry, I have some talent when it comes to speaking with animals," Naivara cheerfully added in between another bite of particular piece of bread that she had drowned in honey. It was her firm belief that the more honey employed the better when it came to most foods.

"In a manner of speaking," the young druid added with a thoughtful frown. Gesturing broadly with a fork that she held for an uncertain reason, she continued, "Animals have their own particular ways of communicating...it is not quite the same as speaking. Unless we are speaking of certain birds. Birds that are overly fond of speaking, that is. However, I do not think we are? Unless that is perhaps relevant to our current...goblin problem?"

Naivara could not help but smile broadly at her last statement. She was doing it. She was being sneaky. She was being guileful as Brown Fur would have said. Maybe this subterfuge thing was easier than Hugh had made it out to be? Preparing another piece of bread with a thick layer of jam rather than honey, Naivara turned towards the guardswoman, awaiting her answers to Kathryn's deeply thoughtful questions. As she eagerly waited, Naivara tried her best not to giggle with glee as she considered her own marked improvements in the realm of intrigue.

Hugh favored the young druid’s formal bidding of goodwill with a cordial nod.

He quite carefully, however, ignored responding to -or so much as outwardly acknowledging- the Pest’s greetings or the culinary abomination she was currently concocting. He had nothing productive to say to her, nor had he much intention of doing so unless it was in the course of addressing the rest of the group or necessarily in the heat of combat. He had her measure now, so without the pounding of the truth spell against his psyche to encourage irrationality, he wouldn’t be wasting his breath.

The general pleasantries being passed around were not contributed to by himself, but in all honesty, he was contributing just by opting to remain silent, as he indulged in the bounty of protein laid out before them while passing out what surprisingly few letters were requested.

Victoria’s suggestion to split up to cover more ground was solid common sense that he could only audibly hum in commisserant agreement with… and not only in the official capacity of saving precious time on their mission. Under normal circumstances, it might be a poor idea to leave any of their number to their own devices, what with a potential traitor being among them. But in this case, it would only make it easier for any egregious missteps to be tracked to the true perpetrator. It split the roles, divided the responsibilities, and being able to more clearly see who had either failed, been sabotaged or purposefully flubbed their results could only be a good thing. Additionally, considering the Pest’s begrudgingly competent and actually useful for once suggestion of brothels as information hubs… “Indeed. With only a week’s time to get this done, it makes no sense to concentrate our efforts like a bunch of lemmings. Having only a single point of failure and throwing all too much effort into a single line of investigation could only ever waste our precious time. Much as I prefer exacting and careful solo work, I can’t deny that splitting into perhaps three pairs would be best? Between our specialities and the potential lurking saboteur, acting alone could even be deadly if there really is something dangerous to be found… and someone with an interest in concealing it.” He nodded reassuringly at Kathryn. “Unfortunately, while there is certainly an admirable strength in numbers, if we want to conduct a proper investigation in only a week’s time, we’ll need to be in as many places at once as feasible. Perhaps we might take larger groups once we’ve narrowed down our leads.”

The Cleric’s seemingly similar train of thought to his own on the investigation front was both reassuring to see and burned him at the contradiction in her actions the day prior. Still, he absolutely hadn’t been lying when he said he could tolerate her actions this once out of professionalism. He’d made a promise to a contract, and he wouldn’t compromise its integrity so easily. If she misstepped so badly again, it would be an entirely different matter, but until such a time came to pass, he would do little more than keep her recklessness in check. And unlike her purporting of righteousness, however, he would neither forgive, nor forget. He’d meant what he said. Words were utterly worthless at the end of the day, and until her actions could truly bear out her claims, he wouldn’t afford her platitudes more worth than dirt.

The news that one “Father Restoff” was a full 10 days away was… “Discouraging and unfortunate.” But at her followup, he nodded, “Indeed, I wasn’t referring to the regional mail hub. Surely there must be a mere local establishment that sends letters to the hub? If there is to be a point of sabotage, it must be either there or in the Sheriff’s own facilities, and I can’t imagine us being granted access to the latter at this stage.”

He sighed at her mention of the lead, he reiterated, “As I mentioned before and did, in fact, directly ask the Sheriff about, I’ve heard tell of news that outlying farmlands have been conspicuously silent for some time. I inquired if this might be related, but our client didn’t even seem to acknowledge the question, leaving the relevance of said information still in flux. As for looking into our client, I’ll admit, despite my normal inclination to take such a veteran for their word, he has been remarkably conservative with his words. The fact that he didn’t feel that it was worth telling us of potential sabotage from the start… The fact that he disappeared at a critical time in the investigation… The fact that he seems remarkably unworried by the, no offense, frankly absurd risk in sending misled adventurers, of all people, to bull headfirst into any situation…?”

Hugh took a long pull from his tea. “No, I agree, and I’m far from happy that I must. Once is an accident. Twice is coincidence. But three times and so close together? Something seems amiss. I refuse to believe that any man as venerable and experienced as our client wouldn’t know just how volatile six similarly motivated adventurers could be to the peace of the region, regardless of their intentions. It is far from common, but a compromised or lying client… They happen. I really hope this is merely paranoia, but it is definitely a track of inquiry worth pursuing.”

Hugh pursed his lips at Victoria’s interjection, humming along lightly till she’d finished. “While it is true that the trap of the Letters, themselves, may have already be sprung and over with, there’s no sense throwing away even a single potential lead, no matter how thin, at this juncture, especially with nearly nonexistent options besides.” Sighing, he continued, wetting his throat with another gulp of strong tea, and nodding at the Bard and Kathryn’s commentary on assassination. “While I encourage the rest of you to freely make your own deductions, my going conclusion is that both Marita and Kathryn’s letters are the real deal… with mine coming in as a vaguely possible third. If I had to put money on a single letter I’d almost guarantee is meant to be here, I’d say Marita’s. That and prior testimonies in mind, I believe Victoria and Naivara’s to be some of the deliberately “planted” ones. And lastly, given that both our remaining tiefling and I obtained ours by fickle chance, I am inclined to consider that we are the wildcards, the genuine accidents, assuming this was planned.”

Rolling his neck, Hugh leaned back in his chair and stretched his arms lightly, relieving some of the anticipatory ache in them from having foregone his normal routines. “That in mind, no competent assassin would ever want to touch a mission involving “wildcards” with a hundred foot pole. While any assassin might have prepped for the eventuality of four of us, the fact that she was not even slightly in the cards and that I am as much of an exact opposite as possible to the original recipient of my letter would send any of them into fits. An additional spellcaster is always an utterly unpredictable force multiplier, and instead of a hulking brute that would have been vulnerable when they doffed their armor for the night, they instead got me, someone far more practiced at fighting in any place or condition, regardless of readiness or armament.” Sipping his tea again, he nodded. “While nerves were high last night, I hadn’t originally considered the idea that an assassin would be far more inclined to make revised preparations, rather than capitalizing on the existing discord and vulnerability.”

He chose to tactfully forgo commenting on the subject of attempting to raise their cooked food into undead. It was better for his peace of mind.

The sudden and frightful departure of the lavender tiefling, their former would-be comrade was exchanged for the approach of a serious ginger in brown, her cloak pinned by a symbol he couldn’t recall being indicative of the local guard. Marita’s own perking up and the woman’s greeting, however, were indicative of the truth of the matter.

Ugh, another holy woman.

Said woman turned out to be the Sheriff’s representative for the interim, and she handed a note to the Cleric. Hugh found his brow rising somewhat at that before recalling the inquiries she had made the night prior for specific information. Assuming they weren’t being fed false leads, it looked like something had finally gone right.

He nodded at the introduction of the mule and wagon, neither of which were particularly welcome unfortunately. Both would require care, limited their options during travel and made stealthful approach and retreat difficult, to say the least. Additionally, a group of six adventurers was conspicuous enough without adding a mule and ride into the mix. Without using his particular Ki techniques, the party would be the nearest thing to utterly trivial to track by any that wished it. The only possible advantages to having the wagon were the nightly shelter and the additional carrying capacity, but he could imagine precious few scenarios where they would actually need said capacity, especially given the wagon and mule were a mere loan.

At the representative’s prompt for outstanding issues to be brought forward, Hugh cleared his throat and spoke up. “The Sheriff spoke of additional potential rewards alongside the standard gold compensation. Given that he seems a busy man, there was no time for proper negotiations the night prior. That said, having managed to grasp the limits of reasonability, if possible, please convey that I would like to get my hands on some scribing material and the tools of an herbalist. A blank book, quill and some ink is sufficient for the former.” Sipping his tea, Hugh hummed before making a small ‘oh’ of realisation. “Naivara, if you have come to conclude your own request’s revision by now, this is the best time to make it. It’s unlikely that anything that ‘belongs to the forest’ is in their possession, but additional gold can never never quite go amiss, especially if it’s the hands of frugal sorts with few daily expenditures. If not that…” He shrugged. “Perhaps some spell components that you can’t easily obtain otherwise? I hear that’s often an issue for mage sorts.”

Having said his piece, Hugh quieted and leaned back in his chair. Without knowing much beyond the obvious that could be gleaned on a surface level, he had no clue what to recommend her, so he could only hope that his suggestions bore fruit. It would be a shame for her to get cheated out of due compensation.

The general conversation seemed to have turned to how to handle the new burden of, well, a beast of burden now being on their hands. The Cleric seemed a strange mixture between nonplussed and begrudgingly accepting. Victoria seemed just as lost as he was on the absurdity of such a thing even being needed. The Pest was unhelpful. And Kathryn’s own suggestion that they might be better off with her pulling the wagon nearly got an audible snort from him.

A local map of the region wouldn’t go amiss however, despite already possessing one himself. If they could get an extra, wonderful; if not, he’d merely reveal his own.

Personally, Hugh could handle animals just fine… and might end up relegated to such if he wasn’t careful. While he had a general awareness of the proper mannerisms to use and techniques to employ, it was all things he’d picked up from sheer osmosis, not proper training. He had no real skill in the art, just common sense and instinct.

Luckily, it seemed like Naivara would be taking point here. While she claimed to have no real skill with animals, the ability to speak them, most likely through magic, could only help things considerably. And she was a Druid for Hades sake. The very concept that she wouldn’t be better with animals than the rest of them combined was laughable in the extreme.

Almost as laughable as her heavily emphasized “attempts” at subtlety. Hugh managed to merely squeeze his eyes shut and lightly pinch the bridge of his nose, rather than cringing outright.

We’ll work on that. He deadpanned at the guilelessly proud look on her face. Definitely be working on that.

The red haired lady in guard's colors listened to the additional issues and inquiries toward compensation stoically, taking it in. Mental notes were taken. One of those notes was that there were members of this group of outsiders who showed an abundance of optimism the likes of which didn't seem to improve her own mood; point of fact, a wry face was made, partly in surprise of the positivity so early in the morning. An wary eyebrow raise also materialized at the Bard's remark. This was quickly righted, both expressions buried under a veneer of principled duty. She kept her answers polite but terse. "Yes, pleasure to meet you as well. My name is Lynette." It was the first semi-casual thing she had said, and it looked like it itched a little.

Past this, the influx of questions was taken in stride, if "stride" meant she looked like a ship hull getting swelled upon by waves. "Rough locations..? I'm not sure what to tell you. The Township is a hub for farmers and hunters. So far as a map, we have one - one - in the Fort, same as most major settlements. I do not have liberty to give it to you. Nor can I give illumination about patterns. I am not an investigator. Sheriff Arbalest was under the impression that you were. Now speaking to 'additional potential rewards', the Sheriff told me he would 'entertain special requests', and that was only because that one," she paused just long enough to motion at Victoria, "silver-tongued the man knowing full well he was in a difficult position." The minor tirade came out rougher than intended, as the cracks in her exterior serenity widened.

Lynette gave a short, huffing sigh. "Apologies. Things have been hectic here. The constabulary seems always short of hands, the Harvestide is upon the region in addition to our regular duties, and a carnival is scheduled to arrive for the end of the festivities. Merchant traffic is up with folk trying to move through before winter sets in. The frosts have come early. This brings other concerns. Now this side project of Gregor... sorry, the Sheriff's, that you all are part of. He wants it handled (if there's anything in the first place) but cannot put any manpower to it, apparently including himself. He has his reasons. Suffice it to say, we are quite stressed."

Looking directly at Hugh, Lynette summarized, "Your special request looks comparable to the others. I will recommend favorably when the Sheriff returns."

The Halfling, Guido, made a quick appearance to hand off a large mug of something steaming to Lynette, which she took with muted surprise. "Oh, um, thank you," she said quietly, accepting the vessel and letting it more fully warm her hands. A little less volatile, she looked to the group, "Look, I'm going to be here in The Infamous Pear for the next couple of hours. Shops will begin opening in a few more minutes. If you need to purchase anything before you go, I can recommend good places for you. When the sun is high in the sky, I am taking the wagon and the beast attached to it and returning to Fort Darenby, if it remains there."

The interior of the Inn had become fairly quiet, owing now to the lack of people within it. With the exception of the party, Lynette, and the staff, there was only one older man sitting in the corner, minding his own business and carving on a what looked to be a piece of bone. Every so often he would appraise the lines he had worked into it, blow off any powdery remains, and keep going.

As the morning meal concluded, there remained a respectable amount on the table, which Owen was happy to clear away. "Oh, take just as much as you want with you!" he chortled mirthfully, giving the group an opportunity to claim some of the more travel-friendly items. "We shall simply repurpose the untouched and unclaimed otherwise. Bread and honey will make a fine pudding. Fine pudding, you see! Mayhap that you should come back by sometime in your ...worldly and noteworthy travels... for a good, squishy slice or two! Now I know, I know - bread pudding is a peasant dish. But how many of us in this place aren't peasants, yes? Yes! Truly scrumptious, this." He prattled on a while as he gathered and cleared, making small talk but not really giving opportunity for meaningful dialogue; merely filling empty space with words as he went about his work. Owen was a personable sort, if a bit flawed. Toward the end, he did lean in to whisper, "Oh, don't mind Miss Lynette. She has her own weights to bear and some days are better than others. Forthright and canny in a pinch, though! Yes. I might have married my son off to her, you know, if I had a son. Ah, well! You go along now, and do you very important, very hush-hush work. I shan't tell a soul that doesn't already know." He lay a finger to the side of his nose and winked in a knowing, conspiratorial manner, and quickly scuttled off.

Marita watched everyone ask questions and Lynette's reactions accordingly. Nothing they asked had any questions of her own come to mind, and she couldn't help but feel pity for this poor woman. Although her expulsion had very few positives, one of those was that she was no longer beholden to the stresses of organizational short staffing. That weary sigh and involuntary urge to snap was something she'd had plenty of experience with. Although it wasn't like she had all the time in the world these days, it still was much different when one worked as a volunteer or temporary worker than somebody firmly entrenched in the hierarchy dealing with these sorts of problems day in and day out.

With her breakfast finished and the green light given to take leftovers, Marita made sure to snag a few sausages for down the line. It was about as much as she would let herself take. Taking too much food in situations like this made one look desperate and prone to gluttony and hoarding; it would be embarrassing if nothing else.

"Thank you for your service, Ms. Lynette. Light guide you." The cleric addressed the rest of the party, "I have nothing I wish to purchase right now. If any of you need to find me, I'll be here at the table waiting. Well after I do one last thing." Now that it was obvious that they were likely going to be spending the whole day on the road, there wasn't much need to stay in more civilian clothing. After she excused herself from the table, the cleric went back upstairs for a bit of privacy and quickly donned her mail armor. It took but a mere couple of minutes and ahe act of doing so didn't require her to eschew modesty, but it would just be impolite and not proper to equip armor in the middle of an inn's common area, empty or no. When she returned she would take her seat back at the table. Perhaps if anybody else stayed she could chat to pass the time, or if nothing else and she was alone with Lynette she could see if she could learn anything from her.

“You don’t need bread when you’ve got the cheese!” Kosara replied back with a huge grin on her face, quickly munching down the rest of her morning meal, before stretching. On the whole it wasn’t a meal with too great a volume. Sure the bacon and the cheese were both things that filled well, so she was good for the time being.” Besides, the world’s too boring if you get too bogged down in things! Experiment, see and experience new things!” She added with her patented at this point upbeat and cheerful voice.” In fact… I might try to make some of the traditional flat breads of the south. Think you will enjoy em, though not now. Maybe another day when we aren’t about to start traveling!” She quipped, making a mental note to make a list of things she’d need to try to make flat bread.

“Well as long as we don’t leave town, pairs should be enough. Especially if we aren’t up to search for fights.” She shrugged and looked at the others at the table and at the one supposedly sent by their generous host the Arbalest man. Especially at the druid. That was a good one, she smiled at her.” Indeed!” All in all things were on the looking up. Hugh had made some pointed and apt comments so despite his lack of social skills, he did in fact have some skill when it came to this whole investigation business it seemed! She still wasn’t taking his as a leader through… well didn’t matter. She was getting her revenge from now on, through friendship! What a weird thing to even think or even conceptualize. Adventure this was indeed.

“Hmmm...” Hearing the Owen’s explanations, Kosara pulled her bag into her lap and started examining the contents.” Hmmm… Don’t really need more supplies for the time being actually. So… I’m good and will wait here! Got writing to catch up with anyways! Don't know when the next chance to do so would present itself.” She quipped as some of the party were scattering to prepare. They had maybe a few minutes or a few hours. So she pulled the well traveled journal and a stick of coal and began writing down the events of yesterday down on an empty page. As a whole the journal was all kinds of tidy and even writing, though clearly made with different materials she had on hands at different times and likely at all manners of situations. Be it ink or coal. She mostly wrote with coal sticks.

Ink cost a good deal of money, so she was saving it whenever possible. She neatly was writing down the events of last night now, how she found the inn and what not when she noticed Marita returning, donned in her armor.” Hey.” She greeted, before burying her nose back into the journal, seemingly sketching the inn’s sign outside. She had a good number of pages already filled on her traves to this place. Plus she had gotten it and written on it even before she departed her home. It originally was her diary and now traveling journal.

Incensed at the tactless yet entirely accurate accusation launched at her by the Sheriff's stand-in, Victoria raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms in front of her in a manner that hinted at eventual retaliation, were this to continue. But as things seemed to be formed of stress and not entirely aggravation from her lapse into opportunism the day before, she wordlessly accepted the woman's apology. Even smiled at her, despite herself.

The next such annoyance, and really it was a continued annoyance rather than a new development, was the apparent and utter lack of anyone in the group possessing any knowledge whatsoever about operating a vehicle over a path; cobblestone, dirt, or other. It vexed her that people accustomed to a traveling lifestyle never got around to picking up a more efficient means of conveyance than placing one foot in front of another. She understood the Druid's situation, or at least thought that she did. There was likely very little drawing of cargo wagons through the close trees and dense underbrush of untamed woodlands. And while being able to get into the heads of the animals in question sounded amazingly useful, Victoria's trust extended only to that which she could lead by rein or mental command. The latter, of course, really only applied if the creature in question was dead, however.

Now that gave Victoria pause. The boar she had as a constant companion was a more hale and hearty creature than most mules (prior to its conversion to its present state of existence) and she was able to dictate its actions just fine. Perhaps the best way to ensure the animal's complete and utter compliance was to poison the creature or stop its heart, then allow her natural talents to bring it to do what they did best. But this wasn't her mule. And she did make a promise to Marita that she would only animate things which she acquired lawfully. So this posed a challenge. Hypothetically.

It turned out that there was a little time before they were to set off proper toward their mission, and with the possibility of getting some shopping under her belt, Victoria showed a little glint to her eye. First, she snagged a loaf of bread and wedge of cheese from the table, as well as a small pot of honey, squirreling it into her belongings. There was no sense in leaving it there when it was paid for and she really didn't want to break into her traveling rations unless she had to. This would make an acceptable lunch. Then the pulled out her dagger once more and impaled another baked apple. Yes, it was cooler now than freshly served, but she didn't care. It was yummy. But to shopping! It shouldn't take long, and she had given the town a quick once-over a couple of days ago. She knew where the marketplace was, if not specific stores.

Next, Victoria sized up Kosara. She really gave her a once-over, never giving explanation for why and being a little conspicuous about it. Then she smiled, mentioned that she would "Just be a little bit," and walked over to Lynette. Apparently, she was next. "Oh, hi! Yeah, hello. Look, I really hope that your day gets better, and it might just a soon as we make out way outside of those gates, right? I'll go a lot faster if you help me find a couple of things." Lynette nodded, and Victoria pressed her requests. "First off, I need to find a bell. I know, it's a little different. But I need one. Another thing I need..."

The orchid-clad Bard leaned in close to the woman and whispered the rest of her list, which provoked a look of interest, then incredulity. "What? A butcher? Are you sure that can help?"

"Mmm hmm!" came the immediate and spirited response from Victoria, complete with a bobbing nod of her head. The innocent joy on her face belied the more interesting machinations within her mind. Wishing to be done with this part of her day, Lynette provided directions to a couple of places near to each other in Darenby's fine mercantile area. Taking a huge bite out of her apple, still upon her shorter blade, Victoria strode out into the colder morning.

For approximately a half hour or so, maybe as long as forty-five minutes, Morty the Pig sat silently in the corner of the room, acting as silent sentinel to the tiny cart which held many of Victoria's belongings. After this time, the errand-running Bard returned. She bore with her a bell shaped object wrapped carefully with a soft cloth which also prevented the item from making its percussive call. But this wasn't the most obvious thing she had. A new leather pouch hung from her belt, small but notable, rather out of the way. Again, not the most obvious. What WAS the most obvious was a great package wrapped up in a dark cloth and tied with twine. This she sets down in front of Kosara and insisted, "Okay, don't be mad." This was probably not the best way to open things. Victoria quickly explained, "You're taller than I am, but I figure we're about the same size and I'm worried about you freezing to death, so..."

The twine was swiftly untied with a deft pull and cloth pulled away. Springing forth from this great reveal was a coat. It was long, stretching down comparably to most robes, and made of rich, dark grey wool. It had a sizeable hood, which might have a little trouble navigating the Tiefling's horns without some alteration but should suitably protect her ears from the biting wind as is. The article of clothing was lined and trimmed in red fur, mottled with darker notes that brought to mind more vulpine sources. With it came a matching pair of boots and gloves. "A girl's got to accessorize, right? And if the cold kills you, I'll never learn how you dance like that." Never the selfless act, or the appearance of one, lest people think her a pushover.

Victoria gave a mischievous smile and shoved the cloth in a pocket, retreating to her belongings. There were a couple of things in the bundle for her as well, packaged separately, with telltale dark and purple notes (as fit her proclivities) which she had to sort away into her travel chest. It was time to pack things up and hit the road.

The planning as well as breakfast continued with Kathryn's lack of experience in matters such as these showing. It did seem the final consensus was that the party would split up into groups of 2 to investigate what they could and return with their collective information. Seemed simple enough. Though it appeared no one in the party knew how to handle an animal and wagon. Kathryn was feeling some regret towards never picking up the skills despite riding along with several caravans and wagons in her time. Hitching rides from one country to another, sometimes continent to continent. She decided when this was over she would learn how to ride and handle an animal. She listened to Kosara's justification to her lack of bread before speaking. "I don't think yer understandin' me though. Ya can't have a sandwich without bread. Though... I do think I would be interested in trying some of them southern breads. We'll get back to that when time isn't as pressing."

Kathryn listened intently as the party spoke and planned. Seemed mostly like a lot of back and forth between Hugh and Marita though. The Sheriff's aid Lynette offered some information but it did seem there was a lot to figure out still. "Yeah.... I guess we are the investigators." Kathryn spoke with an awkward laugh a little concerned she was way over her head. She wondered how Ser Lucas would handle the situation at hand. Was he a proper investigator? She knew he had a lot of fighting experience, but the more she thought about it the more she realized she had little understanding of what Ser Lucas did in her Father's castle before they fled. She never asked him, and had just assumed he was a guard of the fortress. Who never hung out with the other guards. And who a few of her relatives eyed disdain towards the man. But he was a solid fighter, and someone thought he needed the letter. It could have been the Sheriff, or someone else along the line. But now she was here to fill his shoes. Apart of her wished she stuck to pulling guard duty for cities, caravans, and shops.

Owen's sweetness pulled her out of her self loathing trance. She needed to be careful to not let herself fall down that rabbit whole. She had skills, and she was still learning. "Thank you Owen very much." Kathryn took the offer of free food to go with high enthusiasm. Putting bread and sausages into her bag for later. Then cramming as many of the breakfast foods onto a single piece of bread as she could before downing that finishing it off by cramming a couple sausages into her mouth. "Cool, let's get to it then!" She poke still chewing and swallowing her meal. Then turned to Kosara after finishing her own breakfast mash pile. "See? Bread holds the whole thing together. Experimenting is nice and all but if something isn't broke, don't fix it ya know?" Kathryn was mostly pulling at Kosara's strings at this point with a big grin on her face.

Kathryn figuring the situation decided this was her last good chance to stock up on gear (Other then free food) before the adventure kicked off. "I'll be back in a jiffy. Then we can split up however we need to and start figuring this stuff out!" She spoke to the party in general with enthusiasm that resembled that of a young child excited to go to the local fair. Kathryn went off in a hurry to avoid holding up the party as best as she could. She had a fair collection of gear but as a whole had decided she seemed pretty well equipped to handle most situations. While browsing some of the shops near the fort she found a decent assortment of goods and wears for her selection. Her budget was limited at the moment but she had some wiggle room to work with. Though she found a few trinkets she eventually settled on some nets within the shop to help diversify her options in the heat of the moment. She may be good at hacking, slashing, and stomping, but her skills and abilities started getting limited after that. Going up to the shop keep she set down the nets and pulled her coin purse. "Will that be all for you young lady?" Kathryn pulled out the coins needed and gave them to the man. "Aye, I think so. Three gold yeah?" The man gave a polite nod before accepting the coinage. "Thank you very much uh..." SHe paused, realizing she hadn't gotten the man's name yet. "Jarvey's the name. Do you mind me asking what a woman of your stature would be doing with things like these?" Kathryn shrugged. "Seemed like it could be useful for some jobs. Worst case, a nice utility to keep on hand." She thanked the man again before realizing she had been away for quite some time. "Gotta go, thanks for the nets!" And she rushed off chain mail and heavy footing announcing every step she took along the way.

She returned to the Infamous Pear to greet those who had returned and stayed. She noted Kosara in her journal. "Looks like you're having fun." She noticed Marita had changed into her armor as well. Though both of them didn't expect a fight, in their line of work they needed to be prepared for one. Victoria had also returned by this point with some supplies and a new coat for Kosara. The poor small woman would need it in these temperatures. "So how are we splitting up? And who's covering what today? We have a few places to check out including maybe some of the farms people went missing from, or maybe those who returned? We should probably make sure each group has the right skills for whatever task is needed of them." She was mostly worried about herself in this case. Though a wall of muscle and mass with some social skills to her name she was still inexperienced.

Following the example of her new comrades in arms, Naivara had returned to lodgings of the previous evening, and retrieved her traveling pack. Beneath her robe was now the familiar, well-worn and well-shaped leather armor that she favored when adventuring. As she sat once more at the table, the young elf withdrew several fold pieces of waxed paper and began to stuff her traveling pack with those morsels she figured would last the longest without further preservation. Wasting food was the last thing she wanted to do. And few things were as wonderful in life as free food.

Even with all her belongings, the druid was traveling lightly. She knew how to live off the land and she had few things by the way of worldly possessions. Nature would provide, and if it did not, well, then she knew how to gently coax it into providing for her. She would save what remained of her coin for cinnamon buns when the quest at hand was completed.

"I would enjoy investigating a farm!" Naivara exclaimed in answer to Kathryn's planning question, clapping her hands together as her eyes seemed to sparkle with fresh excitement. "Goblins...are after all known to prey on farms at the furthest edges of any settlement. I could perhaps make sense of any tracks or other traces that could be found."

“I am!” Kosara replied to Kathryn, showing her all the things written on the current pages of her journal which recounted the vents of last night. There was also an adorable small drawing of a bandit pear one the upper strip of the left journal page with Kosara having drawn it down since in her opinion it was an important detail. Her written letters were rather artistic with all manners of hooks and loops and other decorations. Almost resembled a language on itself, tough it was a bit amusing to look at since it was written with coal sticks instead of ink so the lines weren’t anywhere near as thin and elegant as they should have been, making it appear a bit childish more than anything.” Writing everything down so my sisters and grandpa can read it later. Also other people, I’m thinking of publishing my traveling journals one day in the future!” It was an innocent dream, one that wasn’t about the potential money, it was about the journey and the wonders she’d see along the way!

Then she looked at the arriving V who started the greeting with a curious choice of words. So Kosara tilted her head at her, in quizzing manner.” Hmm?” She made questioning sound, looking at the purple bard. Then the tiefling’s white eyes grew wide in surprise and wonder as she saw and heard the gifts that V brought! True, Kosara’s wardrobe wasn’t actually the best and even with her more warm getup, it wouldn’t be exactly a pleasant experience if the weather gets even worse or they have to camp in the wilderness away from warm housing.

It took all bit a single quiet moment of marvel, before Kosara was out of her seat, hugging the gift and then crashing into V also.” V! THANK YOU! This looks amazing and warm!” She let out a joyous shout as she gave the bard one very tight and grateful hug! Sue Kosara has had gifts in the past, her family in all but blood would give her small things, grandpa would give her others and patrons at the inn she grew up at would give her small things at times, but this was different! V didn’t have to do so, but she did and Kosara was incredibly touched by it.” Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She repeated, practically trembling from excitement. After all it wasn’t just a coat! There were gloves and some warm looking boots also! It couldn’t have been cheap! Kosara was so emotional from this sudden display of kindness, masquerading as something selfish, that she practically missed the question posed by Kathryn cause she was busy giving hugs to her benefactor!

It wasn’t often Hugh felt sympathy for others, but as she weathered the storm of commentary from the far more lively members of the party, the red-headed guardswoman certainly invoked it within him. She introduced herself as “Lynette” and seemed to be struggling with her composure, certainly frazzled enough so that she couldn’t seem to help venting a portion of her stress through an explanation of the local guard’s woes.

Unfortunately, said explanation did nothing to excuse the Sheriff’s careless actions. Hugh couldn’t be convinced at this stage that their client couldn’t have spared, at minimum, thirty more minutes with the party last night. It wasn’t possible that he was quite so busy that he couldn’t spare even ten minutes to convey forthrightly that all was not well with their mission. Hugh couldn’t get over the act of withholding potentially critical information at this juncture; the only thing such actions could possibly do was sow discord and mistrust, between not just the party members themselves, but the party and their client too.

Try as he might, Hugh couldn’t think of a single good reason for the Sheriff’s quick departure. Unless the town was actively being attacked, what could have possibly have so readily required his attention?

Lynette’s description of Victoria’s prior actions regarding the Sheriff was not exactly encouraging the dispersal of his suspicion of her, not only for the question of how she did so but also in terms of how almost uncharacteristic that sounded compared to what he’d seen of her so far. Then again, he’d not known her long, and he’d promised himself to objectivity. A single incident of irrationality was not proof of anything. That said, her apparent search for a butcher had fairly obvious connotations, all things considered, but he had no need to comment on the matter.

He nodded with a smile, pleased, as Lynette approved his personalized request. At her mention of the honestly surprising lack of smaller maps in the local guard’s possession, Hugh raised a single brow and waved off Lynette’s terse tone lightly, nodding to both her and Kathryn. “It is no matter. After all, in the course of my work, I’ve naturally come to possess several maps. We will not lack for navigational ability.” He patted his bag at that.

Aside from the map issue, he didn’t feel prompted to speak up on any of the table’s other conversations and remained quiet even once Guido had begun his rambling. Sifting through the conversational chaff, Hugh only nodded and tucked away some bread, cheese and sausage. It was hardly specially prepared for such, but even this food would keep well enough to feast handsomely for a day on the road. With any luck, he wouldn’t even have to use any of his rations.

As the party majority began to filter away from the table, either to shop or finalize their preparations for the road by equipping armor and the like, Hugh excused himself and did some shopping of his own. Having been in town the past five days, he’d had ample time to absorb the general location of a variety of merchants in his wanderings. And loath as he was to make any expenditures at this juncture, he’d discovered a couple areas of his equipment lacking that would need to be rectified posthaste.

Hissing lightly at the newly biting chill in the air, he made his first stop for a thick traveler’s blanket, woven to rough it in the outdoors and still provide ample warmth. While normally, he was able to far more easily control his circumstances of rest, there were no guarantees that he’d always be able to sleep under a roof for the foreseeable future. Thus, prepping for rest in the frigid outdoors was only prudent.

His next stop was to purchase some scribing material. Certainly, while he had made his personal request for better, the investigation in the here and now would likely require a way to take witness statements or potentially make notes of sensitive information without removing the source material. Best to prepare for any eventuality. Parchment and ink were almost insultingly expensive, but between those, an ink pen to use them with and the blanket, Hugh begrudgingly parted with a grand total of eleven gold and two copper pieces.

Sliding the five newly rolled up parchment sheets safely into his map case, Hugh then set about his final preparations for the road, checking and double-checking the integrity of his weapons, emptying his pair of waterskins of their remaining dregs of old stock and trekking down to the river for some fresh water.

The return to the inn brought forth the scene of Victoria’s apparently incredibly practical purchase for their erstwhile tiefling. Regardless of whatever else he might think about her, it would be less trouble if she were to not catch a fever from the cold and become useless and sickly. One less spellcaster at optimal efficiency and a dead-weight body to lug around only sounded like a bad deal, no matter which way you sliced it.

Returning to his seat, Hugh shook his head regretfully at Kathryn’s questions. “The time crunch being what it is, we have little left for us here in Darenby. Before we make any moves to split up, best we actually make our way to the Avonshire Township proper and observe the epicenter of this potential incident. And before that…”

As he trailed off, the shaggy-haired brunette reached into his bag and pulled out a simple, sturdy scroll case, twisting off the top and sliding out a fairly sizable sheet of hardy parchment, 1x2 feet in length. He delicately slid the work of cartography forward on the table, pinning one end down with his now empty mug and holding the other with his left hand, the parchment effectively halted from attempting to curl back into a roll.

Displayed broadly was a painted expanse of light green to pale yellow hills and sparse clumps of forestry, save for the north, where there rested a large stretch of dark green.

Humming briefly, he stood up and leaned over the table, lightly fingering a rather central location upon the map’s expanse. “We are here, in Darenby,” he explained, primarily for the benefit of Naivara and the more blatant foreigners among them. He slowly traced a line with his finger from there to a prominently marked location just south of the most heavily forested strip of land, indicative of a settlement to the west and ever so slightly north of Darenby by the map’s display. “About twenty miles west, along the main trade route, Avonshire proper and the region’s namesake. If all goes well with the weather and such, a six to seven hour journey isn’t out of the question. We can be there by early afternoon, potentially with time to begin our investigations before nightfall.”

Victoria was happy that Kosara seemed to like her new, colder weather ensemble. If there was something that Victoria prided herself upon, it was a sense of style. Granted, she prided herself for many things, so this was pretty much status quo for her. Nevertheless, she did have a decent grasp on the concept of style. As a testament to this, the now opened chest (being the sole item in the small errand-cart and taking up most of its room) contained - among other things - neatly folded and accessorized articles of clothing of differing cuts and colors, and a cosmetics case that looked considerably too elaborate for simple touch-ups.

She put her new acquisitions from the market into the chest and closed it back tight, breathing out a sigh of disappointment. Not every venture about town was successful. Attempts at utilizing her meager grasp on Necrotic energies to achieve the epicness of Bardic Sausagekinesis were unsuccessful. She kept it subtle, but all that Victoria got was an odd look from the proprietor that thankfully was passing in nature. A quick purchase and a charming smile smoothed things over nicely.

Ideas on how to acquire the power to do such a feat were beginning to swirl about in her head when she heard the sudden outpouring of gratitude from Kosara. The first of a more genuine smile began to form as she began to turn back around, completely not expecting the sudden and inescapable snuggle from the happy Tiefling lady. "AHH!" It wasn't a graceful nor endearing sound, though one might infer from the tone that she probably had a decent enough singing voice. This was pure surprise which was illustrated by the expression on her face and an initial grab for her dagger.

A half second later she understood that this was affection and not an attack. Still, Victoria was in a mild state of shock. This was physical contact. Positive physical contact, which honestly freaked her out for a moment. A second or two passed and she began to blush, hands shaking slightly as she returned the embrace. She bore the weight of repeated thank yous, smiling and giving the lady a return squeeze. It was nice. Victoria was content to hold this for a time. Until her sense of self-consciousness crept back into her forebrain. She didn't know if she was holding this snuggle for longer than what was socially acceptable and did not want to risk it as nobody knew her here. Nobody really knew her, period, when it came down to it. Keeping a distance, despite her occupation as a Bard, served to protect her from things she hadn't the heart to tell others. So, still with a touch of red in her face, Victoria slipped her arms from around Kosara and stepped back. Looking in her eyes she stammered, "Yes, you're, ah... welcome, Kosara. Really. Quite welcome." The smile returned, but she turned her head to return to her belongings.

This looked like an act of shyness, which she had shown absolutely no part of at any point in time before this. Uncharacteristic, one might assume. Victoria glanced back with a smile, but kept to her work. She pulled on her charcoal cloak, which hung heavily across her frame, swept up her hat (matching of color except for the plumage), and snapped her fingers in Morty's direction. The hickory-smoked beast lumbered up, took to the tiny cart, and followed as Victoria strode outside, backpack and violin in hand, into the cooler morning air.

It didn't take but a moment to convince a pair of strapping young men to affix the oiled canvas enclosure to the top of the wagon for her. It took a quick smile to convince them to also lift her cart and pig (now un-animated) into the wagon as well, and she even let loose a "Please?" to convince one of them to hold the door to The Infamous Pear open just long enough so that Victoria could call inside, "C'mon! The day isn't getting any longer! I want to see what happens next!" Curiosity drew her forward more than anything else except for maybe the promised reward waiting upon their return.

When the opportunity presented itself, Victoria looked to Kosara and slid over in the driver's bench, patting the seat next to her. "Do you still want to learn to drive a wagon?" Victoria recalled that she had said so earlier. "I am happy to teach."

The wagon departing with the party is most certainly not the only one leaving Darenby and headed west. Most of the others are larger, merchant affairs, though many are personal conveyances a little smaller than the solders' wagon lent to the group. This is a well traveled road by the standards of the time; many shod hoofprints and wheel marks could be seen on the road, brown dirt contrasted against rough stone and ruts carved into otherwise packed clay or gravel being the norm, showing the passage of vehicles over time.

Rolling hills stretch across the landscape, dotted with trees showing the ironically warmer colors of autumn or bravely holding out with more verdant tones against the coming cold. The sun stands boldly in the sky, doing its best against the fresh frost of the night. Places of shade still show the opaque dusting of crystalline white, reminding those who look upon it that the weather is indeed turning. This was a threat well heeded by the farmers of the region, who even then ran about their fields with as much help as they could muster in these early hours, inspecting their harvests of fruit, grain, and vegetables. They picked and stored what they could and did their utmost to protect that which needed just a little bit longer. At the end of Harvestide all of this would be complete and the winter preparations would commence.

Those versed in agriculture would also recognize the death march of pigs and large domestic animals. Others would simply see a number of different locals leading livestock up the road in rope trains or groups of crated pigs in the back of heavy wagons, getting onto the road for just long enough to take them to the nearest village which featured organized butchering, else in the case of smaller operations they might handle it themselves. The creatures mostly looked bored, unaware they were being marched to their inevitable deaths and subsequent conversion into foodstuffs.

The journey deeper into the region of Avonshire was beginning to show ample reason as to how it got its name, for any linguists that were wondering. Cutting amid the rolling hills were streams and tributaries which broke off from one or more rivers which flowed unerringly toward the sea. Ponds dotted the landscape as well, some smallish and some lakes in their own right. One of the later groups of migrating waterfowl could be seen gathering atop the glassy surface of one such body of water, only to take off en masse as some local kid tossed a stone into the midst of them, resulting on a plop, splash, and great rustle of feathers.

Avonshire is not an especially large place, though even one poorly versed in farmcraft can tell that this place is likely responsible for food production covering a disproportionately larger population.

The wagon rolled along, occasionally passed by those traveling east and sometimes sharing a stretch of road with those moving in the same direction as themselves. Hats were tipped, the occasional "Howdy" uttered by Humans and Halflings alike. The sightings of people occured in waves, usually predicting the existence of a village or hamlet over the next rise. Fishing poles dotted lines in the waters of ponds and streams despite the sudden onset of colder weather, indeed it seemed to spur the fisherfolk on. Between these waves of scant to moderate population the land stretched out to seemingly infinite proportions. This was an idyllic piece of countryside with honest, hardworking folk and passing merchants alike - truly an excellent place to retire or raise a family. And yet, far too many of these good and wholesome people had a metaphorical shadow over their faces; the outward signs that they detected, if only subconsciously, that something insidious was afoot in their little section of prosperity.