Naivara made some good points on why she would be a good choice to investigate local farms and such. She had tracking skills, nature skills, unique skills that no one else in the party could match. It appeared other then managing horses this party could cover nearly all skill sets needed. "That's good to know! Glad you can cover that area for us!" Kathryn took a moment to listen to Kosara's explanation on her journal. It was a cool idea, taking notes of her life and adventures so that others that knew her could learn of them. It made Kathryn wonder if she should do something like it? She decided against it for now but it didn't change her overall interest. "I'd love a chance to read this when you decide to share it. Sounds like it will be really nice!" It made Kathryn happy to see Victoria and Kosara getting along. The small bard had given Kosara a nice set of warmth gear to help stave off the chilling air which the area seemed to be struggling more and more with. Should the party be forced to stay out during the night it would have been rough for the tiefling.

Kathryn got some good news on her part though. Hugh had a map! Though Lynette isn't able to provide much in terms of spare maps Hugh came prepared meaning it would be a lot easier to get a visual reference of the area and see if there were noticeable patterns with those who have gone missing. "I do suppose the township proper is a good idea yeah..." She had less then a bare bones understanding of local towns, borders, and location of things. Another moment she was thankful to Hugh. Then, he pulled out the piece of parchment that Kathryn oh so desired. "Oh my... what a lovely map you go there." She leaned over the table as Hugh shared his view of the map. There was apart of her that wanted to reach out, stroke her hand across the nicely drawn description of their area. Kathryn nodded to what Hugh was saying, taking in the information he was explaining on the map. "Sounds like a fair plan to me. It will be easier to make a plan too once we see what things are like locally to the investigation." She thought so at least. Kathryn hoped her lack of skills and experience wouldn't hold her back too much. Maybe she'd get a chance to show some of her actual skills to show she was more then dead weight? T'was the hope at least.

Once Kathryn was done drooling over Hugh's map she took notice of Kosara's reaction to the coat and set that she got from Victoria and their pleasantly shared hug. Their interactions were pretty cute together, Kathryn wondered if there was more to that shy smile then met the eye? Or maybe she was just looking a little too much into it. It was cute none the less. When Victoria left to board the wagon inviting Kosara to ride with her up front. Kathryn climbed into the back of the wagon as she had no skills in controlling said wagon.

Once on the go Kathryn watched the country side is awe and amusement like a child entering a colorful meadow. "Reminds me of home. The fields, the wide open air, even the gentle chill in the air. It's nice." Though she knew it wasn't home, it was similar. If you were from Arcanaple it was easy to spot the differences. The roads were better quality, the people talked with an accent that would sound almost silly in her own home, there wasn't anywhere near the same amount of Halflings, though actual half giants were not unheard of at home either. Kathryn waved at what seemed like every person they passed as the party traveled. "Hello. Hi there! Hello!" Every passerby got a bit of her attention. Should home never be an option for her, maybe here would be a good place to settle down? The dread some of the people held under their brows was hard to miss though. It also reminded Kathryn of home in some of the worse ways. "I hope we can figure out what's going on soon. Before it takes to much of a toll on these people."

How foolish Marita had been, thinking she would be able to get to be able to talk to the rest of the party. As soon as she had returned, most of the party was gone. Everyone save Kosara(who was busy writing) and Naivara. Marita didn't have anything against the girl, helpless thing as she appeared to be in every conversation up to this point, but she hadn't the slightest clue how she'd start an actual conversation that wouldn't immediately hit some dead end when the woodling would inevitably say something off-kilter. Thinking about it more seriouesly, she found that she didn't have anything to say at all.

The only topics she felt confident in discussing at the moment were related to the mission, but as far as the mission went, there wasn't really anything worth discussing that hadn't already been discussed before this point. So she sat quietly, watching everyone else talk and go about their business. It was nice that Kosara now had some real clothes and would be slightly less of a sore thumb in addition to the obvious insulative benefits of her new outfit. The ensuing bonding scene was at once rather wholesome and an irritant, but that heralded the end of everyone's last minute shopping trips and the beginning of travel proper. Marita sat in the back of the wagon alongside Kathryn. Both because she had no business at the reins of this vehicle and to have as much distance between her and the odorous beasts of burden as possible.

Marita looked out over the scenery with much less appreciation than Kosara. She had been around areas like this for quite awhile now, not to mention having just walked 10 days through the land so it had all become quite mundane. She saw the shadows in the faces of passersby and felt additional dread and responsibility added onto the omens that had already been revealed to her. She wished to not have to be in this early frost. It made her hands ache. But at least some of them seemed happy with the traveling experience.

"I miss my home," She said absently in response to the half-giant's remarks. "I haven't been anywhere quite like it since I left. We never had to deal with the winter frosts or summer heat the way they do up here." There was a lot more she could say, but her conscious brain decided not to let anymore slip without reason. There was too much potential shame to be had from recklessly reminiscing on the past.

Kosara gave Victoria a huge bright smile.” No problem! Hugs are the best!” She grinned and nodded in sage like manner as she let the bard move away to do her own things at her own speed. Kosara noted the return of the hug a few moments after the initial surprise from the hug attack passed and was pleased! At least one member of the party wasn’t against things like friendly gestures! The north so far proved to be such a curious experience with the way people acted. Back home in the desert it was so much nicer! Well that could also be cause she was basically family with everybody at the oasis… Hmm now that was a topic to ponder, but at least V proved that hugs were nice! Now if only she could figure out a way to get Kathryn to pick her up and carry her on her shoulders…. Tasks for later… tasks for later.

With that done, her attention turned to the Fancy Sneaky Monk man that displayed a map!” Ohh…!” She made a sound of wonder and scooted over to observe the piece of parchment in detail and what and where he was pointing out.” Okey… I’m so far from home it doesn’t show on the maps! Hehehe.” She grinned, following his pointing out where their destination was in this case the Avonshire proper. She smiled and then chuckled when Hugh suggested basically just under a daytime of travel.” I for some reason doubt we will arrive today during daytime, but we can try! And trying is what’s important!” She chuckled, quickly put her things into her bag and dashed towards the wagon outside.” No better time than the now!”

Kosara now dressed in her nice, comfy and warm new coat and boats and gloves scampered out of the inn and in a glance located the wagon with V who was sitting in the driver’s bench. She moved over and climbed into the wagon, before hearing the bard’s words and seeing her move to the side.” YES!” She joyfully proclaimed and hopped over, taking a seat by the bard. Today was a good day!

As they finally departed, with the rest of the group joining them on the wagon, Kosara was listening and doing whatever V told her to, making sure to memorize any tidbit of information about leading a wagon. In any case, the journey itself proved to be rather interesting affair, especially with the scenery. There was the first inklings of snow? SNOW! She never saw snow before… at least not from up close. Yet this far north, the white tiefling realized she will be having her first proper winter in the north! There was bound to be more snow from now on. There were countless other curious things like the lines of animals led by ropes to different locations.” Is it some kind of festival about animals that they lead them all?” She asked, curious about it. Never having encountered the tradition of stocking up on meat for the winter. In addition there were friendly people offering greetings as they passed, greetings to which Kosara merrily returned with joyful voice and energetic waving of her hands.

“I personally I’m looking forward to seeing and experiencing what a winter is.” Kosara chimed in at the talk about the location and the weather.” South in the desert it’s always hot days, chilled nights, blazing sun, golden beautiful sea of sands, I love my home, I love the atmosphere and the scenery, but I am looking to see the fabled beauty of the northern winters.” The tiefling mused, looking around.” We will try to help them, I’m sure one way or another it would work out. Things often work out one way or another, I’ve been told. We will do our best and then enjoy the winter times! I want to see the men of snow I’ve heard so much about! I wonder if they really at night come to life and defend the houses from the monsters that lurk in the winter nights.”

A warm smile formed effortlessly across Victoria's face (as if it naturally belonged there as a permanent feature) when Kosara climbed up onto the driver's bench. The enthusiasm which she showed at the prospect of wagoneering practice was heartwarming. Victoria was ever the fan of picking up new pieces of knowledge and appreciated when others around her showed the same inclination. The magic-bearing Tiefling showed a desire to not just be the person in the driver's seat, but actually absorb the knowledge that was presented her. This made the young half-fey happy. Despite inclinations to win over crowds and put on stellar performances, Victoria felt she would always have a stigma associated with her and the specific talents she possessed. Having someone who knew what she was and still be excited to share a seat so closely with her was comforting.

Being as this was supposed to be a teachable moment, Victoria attempted to assume a more headmistress-ly quality to her voice and mannerisms. She failed, of course. The words were a little too warm and a touch happier than they ought to have been. But it was a noteworthy and humorous attempt. "Take the reins now, okay?" She motioned at other folk about town, singling out a man who appeared to be a merchant or shopkeeper of some kind who was about to set off in their own pulled conveyance. She pointed out the local method of getting the animals to move, be it a motion with the reins, one-syllable utterance, or both. Beasts trained to the harness tended to have similar signals for obedience, though variations existed. "Other than that, it's about knowing what your wagon can or can't do, and small corrections only when necessary. The hard part is knowing when." Animals, especially horses and mules, were pretty good at handling themselves around big obstacles when attached to a wagon. Other times, Victoria might have sworn they were as dumb as a sack of flour.

As their trip set off, the itinerant Bard was a little nervous as Kosara brought them through the open gates leaving the fort town of Darenby, admittedly giving a suggestion or two with more nervousness in her voice than she wished to show. But everything came out okay. This didn't stop her from breathing out a sigh of relief when they were out into relatively open ground. This, she kept quiet. "You're doing great!" she assured.

Victoria took note of who decided to climb into the wagon and who did not, making an attempt to keep herself available for conversation as she was able to. Priority went to instructing Kosara, of course; otherwise social availability was a strength which she exercised religiously. Brief words about home from a couple of them, which naturally made her think of her own. First, she took a note from Marita. Given the interesting backstory and her own sense of curiosity, she was piqued. Kathryn's origins based upon descriptions gave her some suspicions; probably closer to her home city than anyone else's here. Kosara's she knew, more or less, from style of dress and dances. Plus she told everyone outright. Then desert native said a couple of things which made Victoria stop her train of thought with a muffled crash. "Festival of anim... Kind of." She glanced to Morty in the back of the wagon, continuing, "My Morty took that walk not too long ago. They're being taken to a butcher to be smoked and/or cured to feed families over the winter. Properly preserved, those pigs can last all year. Maybe longer. If we're ever at a point that we're starving, Morty might even be able to save our lives." She smiled. This was probably not the best case scenario for her new party to ponder. Practically speaking, it was a versatile resource to have at their disposal. This also explained why the beast did not have the scent of decomposition about it - quite differently, it smelled faintly of bacon and woodsmoke.

Apathetic to the words spoken about itself, Morty stood silently in the back of the wagon, its hollow stare seemingly giving no regard to those sitting around it.

Continuing with Kosara, Victoria mentioned, "Another month or so until we get to winter. I'm not sure exactly when the snows come around here, but back home it would only be a couple more weeks. Five on a warm year." Being that the weather was progressing a little sooner according to the people back in Darenby, Victoria really had no idea when it might be in Avonshire. "As for the snowmen..." Her smile turned to mischief, "I don't think that happens naturally. But we're both distinguished ladies of The Weave. I'm sure we can figure out something."

Shifting to the side and looking back in the wagon, Victoria followed up on a piece of conversation she had taken note of just earlier. "My home is a journey north from here. Buildings, big houses, walls. Libraries. Trade; lots of trade and influence from many cultures. Trees in parks and along wide streets, manicured by professional gardeners. Four crisp and distinctly separate seasons." Then taking a point on a specific declaration, she looked dead at Marita. "Your home doesn't sound like any place I've been yet. Could you tell me more, please?"

Marita's expression didn't change as she looked out over the landscape. And she didn't respond to Victoria's question. After awhile had passed and it seemed as if the cleric would ignore the question outright, she began to speak.

"I grew up Northwest of here, in the Hasburn Mountains. However, I couldn't tell you where. The nest was difficult to find unless you knew exactly where it was located, and it's been so long since I've been there I don't think I would be able to return even if I wanted to. We lived in the mountains, but not in any manner I imagine any of you are familiar with. We lived underground. Deep, deep beneath the surface. Protected by the earth we never had to contend much with the weather aside from some fringe cases. The sun was far out of reach, the only light we had came from flame or magic. There was no day or night, we kept track of time through the use of a massive hourglass that would empty 24 hours after it was overturned."

"Without the sun's light, what we grew for food were mushrooms and other such crops that did well where nobody could see. Sometimes there would be hunting parties formed or summoned to procure some meat from the beasts that lived below. Water we drew from a great underground lake. When I asked my father about it as a child, he told me that pure snow collected on the mountain in the winter, and when spring came, it would melt and some of it would sink into the cracks and crevices of the rock, sinking down further and further until it ended up in the reservoir. I'm not sure how much I was told as a child was true, really. But I know that almost anything I've drank since coming up to the surface has never tasted as clean."

"I doubt that we would have been able to do as well as we had been able to, had we not been able to establish something of a good relationship with the Neighbors. They had existed down below far longer than anyone, and although they didn't have the same kinds of needs we did, I'm certain that by giving them what they wanted they were able to teach what would have required years of trial and error to discover unassisted."

Marita wondered how this would sound to the others. She had only told one other before about the kind of environment she was brought up in, and he thought it quite a miserable existence. While it was true that as she was now, she wouldn't want to return to such a lifestyle for any significant amount of time, especially since that would have her cut off from all her lord's manifestations in the natural world, she didn't see anything particularly wrong with life below the surface. The dwarves did just fine and nobody batted an eye there. Although her old home had nestled itself much deeper than the depths that she understood dwarven cities were usually situated.

While she definitely had the ability to speak at much greater length about her past and the way her family lived, the cleric decided this would be all that anyone here would get. At least for now. She had decided to trust them, but that would not change the fact that the people she was traveling with were strangers, and there was much of her past that she didn't feel comfortable with discussing with herself, let alone others. It was somewhat relieving however, being able to share even a little bit of where she came from.

Hugh winced at the rather over the top display of gratitude from the tiefling and added it to his list of reasons to never do anything nice for her. The less he had to put up with somehow incurring her attentions the better.

More curious, however, he thought, was the remarkable loss of composure from Victoria. Hugh found himself frankly baffled by the idea that something as small as a hug could crack the mask of a socialite of a Bard’s caliber. Seriously, what kind of Bard was that… susceptible to simple positive touch?

Granted, he was one to talk about masks and losing them, but mind manipulation was an entirely different realm of serious compared to a mere hug, so he felt he had plenty of room to talk actually, especially since the uncontrollable anger itself was also a mask to some level.

Honestly, the Bard’s about-face from distantly charming to practically blushing maiden was so stark that Hugh had to do a double-take. Further, her composure could not seem to be fully regained at any point thereafter that he could see. Honestly, if he didn’t know better, he’d almost call her smitten with the tiefling. Though she continued to make room in her words for the rest of the party, it was clear to anyone with eyes that hers were only for the tiefling for the foreseeable future… Unfortunately.

Honestly, for all the provocativeness of her garb, he’d not actually expected the tiefling’s advances to go anywhere, but here they were it seemed. He really hoped not. The last thing they needed right now was even more distractions from the actual mission, and the tiefling having more influence could only be a bad thing for the team’s prospects.

Once the topic had turned to the map and business at hand, Hugh could only nod his head in satisfaction that the map had done its job and better visualized their goals for those without a firm grasp of the region’s anatomy. He could only just resist rolling his eyes at the tiefling, however. It was borderline winter, a time when the days grew shorter and the nights colder. Since when was “early afternoon” during such a time still applicable to daytime, and when exactly had he implied they’d still have daylight to begin with? And in what world would that be a limitation for proper investigators? The sun may set, but that didn’t mean they were to set with it. The night was just as profitable for their purposes -in some ways moreso, but that could wait for later conversation…

Once the party had gotten their fill of staring at parchment, Hugh rolled the map back up and safely stowed it back in its case, screwing the top back on with a satisfied hum. Unwilling to face the outside chill until necessary, Hugh spent the next small period of time simply resting in his chair… and the clearly far too wired Bard started badgering them about hurrying up. Honestly…

Hugh stood up with a sigh, slinging his pack straps over his shoulders and taking hold of his staff, the wooden pole thunking along the floorboards in imitation of a hiking stick. As low wooden thumps transformed into the gravelly crunch and squish of humid dirt and pebbles, Hugh frowned at the cart and its beast of burden.

The back of the cart was currently occupied by a large chest and a not-so-alive swine, the sight of which nicely decided where exactly Hugh would not be spending his time. Frankly, as much as he was willing to set aside personal discomfort for the sake of the mission, it would only be unnecessary discomfort to remain in close proximity to an undead… no matter how apparently well-leashed or surprisingly stench-free it was.

The Cleric and Kathryne seemed to have no such misgivings, as they took a seat in the back of the cart. Victoria took the reins, and the tiefling was beckoned to sit beside her…

Well, he certainly wouldn’t be using the cart at all at this rate it seemed, not that he’d had much intention of doing so before. He was perfectly fine walking alongside the cart, and besides, sitting in the cart in either spot would only disadvantage him as far as keeping watch for potential threats… something no-one else seemed keen on doing.

Sighing again under his breath, as the party left town, Hugh hummed in thought, making pleasantly surprised note of the numerous locals of the region filter in and out the party’s general area. An opportunity presented itself clearly.

On the one hand, diverting some of his attention in such a way could be costly… On the other…? The team was already on a time crunch. Even if an ambush was possible (if unlikely), opportunities for him to freely gather information alone were sure to be unfortunately rare, given the current plan to split into pairs.

Six to seven hours on a highly populated trade road with locals? You couldn’t have stopped him if you tried. Instead of wasting his time keeping more than a cursory watch or making pointless small talk, he could instead actually spend the first day of their investigation being productive and chasing up potential leads.

After all, he was going to be stuck with the mess of a group for at least the next week. He had more than enough to investigate them up close and personal.

Tossing on a congenial expression that was far more genuine than one might expect given his ability to finally take some level of personal control over his immediate personal circumstances (and distance himself from the far too sociable and nosy individuals he’d been locked in close proximity to for hours), Hugh left the party’s general area and set to mingling with the populace.

Time to get to work.

Kathryn listened closely as Marita spoke of her past, of her home. Though she tried to pick up some of Victoria's lessons on how to manage a wagon and those that pull one Marita's story was a lot more relatable. As the Clerical woman explained in detail about a home she would likely not see again for a long time Kathryn couldn't help but see some relations. Though their former lifestyles were drastically different, there was that want to go home. Kathryn listened closely as the woman spoke about her mountain home and how she and her people used to live. It sounded like a sight to be seen, something Kathryn couldn't even dream up of in her wildest dreams. She felt her own life was rather standard by comparison. Kathryn took note of Hugh deciding not to join them in the wagon. She couldn't blame him. It was getting crammed and there was a body of a dead pig in the back. Kathryn would see about making sure he got the chance to on their return trip. A ride back after some hard work is a nice comfort.

Kathryn shifted to sit next to Marita. She said nothing for a moment, just waiting in silence as she tried to process what the woman had explained. "It sounds like a beautiful place. Unlike anything I've ever seen!" She tried to picture more of what Marita's home looked like but in her mind it was something incomparable to anything she had seen. Her glee calmed a bit thinking what got them to this point in the conversation. "I miss mine too. Though I didn't live in a place quite as beautiful as yours." A fortress. Even the parts that were designed to be livable and comfortable it was easy to tell they were secondary purposes. Every doorway able to be bared and sealed, every window placed in a way for an archer to shoot safely from, and so many layers of defense that any battle against such a for would be a pyrrhic victory at best.

Kathryn figured since Marita was so forth coming Kathryn could share a bit too. "I never saw much of caves. I grew up in a Fortress with my family there until, well... I didn't." Kathryn was quickly realizing she wasn't a great story teller. "For a fortress though it was pretty. The inner wall was old and looked like it was ready to collapse, but the outer walls were apart of the newest additions to the fortress. The stone was much cleaner cut, they almost seemed polished when compared to the inner defensive wall. The view from my room was..." She trailed off reminiscing. "I think the view was the best part. You could see the whole world from up there. The passing carts much like the one we're in now, the entire fortress, I could see the soldiers and workers at their daily tasks below! I could see my brothers being trained by my uncle in the yards below with bows and swords. I could see the stables and their horses, I could even see the kennels and the dogs. Hmm... wasn't as big of a fan of them. You could see people approaching from every direction. When I was little whenever I spotted a band of noblemen or traders I would run off to find my father and tell him they were coming! It was exciting." She chuckled a bit. "Under one of the oldest buildings in the fortress there was this huge stone bath. No one used it for that anymore. It was mostly used as a store room once the fortress started seeing it's many reconstructions. But it was a fun place to sneak off to with some of the other kids just to have a spot to ourselves."

Kathryn seemed rather gleeful thinking through her old life. "There were these cute villages that were around too. The kids didn't really want to play with me too much then, looking back I see why. Made a few later on but it took a while. Unfortunately we were a rather young noble house, our lands were given to my family after helping put down a rebellion. The original owners didn't like that, and about a dozen years took matters into their own hands. Learned later that they weren't the only ones too, but in that moment I only cared about what they were doing to my home. The view from the window wasn't as pretty after that. Ser Lucas got me out and we've been on the road since. The hills and lands here remind me a bit of home. Though home had woods that were a bit more dense, less farms... And a bit more forts..." She sat their contemplating the differences. "Oh well, those days are gone. And now I am making my own adventures." She spoke rather proudly, excited to be taking on bigger roles on her own without someone overseeing her actions as directly.

The sun made it high into the sky, eliminating the frost which remained upon the drier grass of the season. Traffic upon the road, while not extremely crowded in the first place, had slacked into noticing the occasional local cart upon the road. More often one might notice the occasional laborer applying their profession to a large section of cultivated land, the ubiquitous straw hat and loose clothing serving as uniform to distinguish them from traveler or landowner alike. Things seem to be passing by at a constant, unexciting rate, relaxing if one is the type to enjoy long stretches of countryside going through the changes associated with the Autumn season.

While the occasional biting wind still blew across the rolling hills of Avonshire, overall temperatures relaxed into something significantly more bearable than the chill which the early morning brought to everyone. Heavier clothing could be put aside if so desired, though even the ambient temperature below a midday sun served to remind that summer was assuredly in the past. The sky was mostly clear, with cirrus clouds sparingly putting a translucent lens over the cool sunlight above.

Midday came and left; whether the decision to pull off of the road for a quick meal was made or food was partaken while in transit, things went along swimmingly and without incident from any exterior source. The mule appeared to be in decent spirits and physical vigor, thoroughly uninterested in he world around it except for its purpose to continually pull the wagon to which it was attached forward.

After a time, a simply designed but decently enough crafted signpost stood out among the numerous smaller side roads coming away from the main trade route. This one stood in a recessed position from the road yet easily visible, with only the slightest hint of weathering upon it. The road led north, into a area which showed increasing density of trees. Broad leaves of yellow and orange littered the ground here both on and off of the road, opportunistic winds tossing them about every so often. While enough leaves were on the ground as to make a mosaic of autumn color, the trees themselves still looked thick and full for the most part.

In fact, things seem to be humming along so smoothly that it is a bit of a shock when, upon cresting a rise in the road, the sounds of jabbering and laughter can be heard from somewhere ahead. The angle from the rise, combined with the canopy of warm, fall colors prevent a useful line of sight, but you can definitely hear something out of place, even if you can't tell precisely what it is.

Learning things from V was fun. The bard was a good teacher and good with her words, probably a professional thing. In any case, Kosara was learning heaps! In the end she concluded that horses and mules had a lot in common with the domesticated camels of the deserts. Albeit she supposed camels were funnier and way better for the hot deserts. Kosara seriously doubted a horse’s survival in the scorching sands without humans to care for them and she had seen camels eat cacti… like with the thorns and all, it was forever a mystery how the bastards didn’t seem to hurt much from it. She too liked Cactus Water and even a bit of the plant mush at times, but she’d do well without the spikes thank you very much!

Now as for the domesticated animals of the North and what V revealed about the ‘festival’, all of Kosara’s reply could be summed in a single long sound.” Oooooooh..!” She stared at the incredible number of animals that were doing their last walks and then looked at Morty, staring at the undead pig.” That’s. Mighty incredible actually! A walking emergency food supply! Why hadn’t the folk back home figured this out! I need to deliver this knowledge back home!” The easily excitable white tiefling proclaimed at the surprising revelation as if she had discovered a holy relic or knowledge from eras past! It was incredibly good thing to do actually! It could easily shave you so much space in effort of carrying supplies and if you can load the walking supplies with more supplies! She could hardly imagine all the possibilities! It would also cut down on supplies for the pack animals!” Wait… if this is done on a camel, can we replace the hump with a barrel or something to store water for people instead…!” Revelations upon revelations today!” Thank you, V!” She grinned at the bard, tonight, Kosara was going to have a long write into her journal about the utilities of undead pack animals and of course of northern customs.

Afterwards, Kosara listened to Marita’s tales of her home.” Sounds like a very magical and beautiful place, Martia.” Kosara told the cleric with a smile. She now wanted to see such a city.” Maybe you can tell more stories of your home again eventually? I would love to hear even more of the lifestyle and culture of your family and people.” Kosara loved hearing about interesting cultures and far of distant lands with their own unique beauty to them. She herself was never underground much. Well Grandpa Horny Golden Horse lived in a cave, but it wasn’t that far underground nor was it overly deep, so it didn’t count. Sure Marita had let it be known that they were a cult and all that, but even cults had their own culture outside of dangerous rituals and what not. Like… what type of mushroom recipes for food they had? Or maybe did they have preferred decorations they carried on their clothing? So much interesting knowledge.

While everybody was having team time, talking, Kosara basically didn’t even notice Hugh at first, mostly cause he wasn’t talking and was keeping his distance. He eyed him for a moment, before stopping to pay him any heed and returning her attention to Kathryn and her own tale. It was a marvelous tale of treachery, bravery and castles!” Wait… you are almost a princess then! Like in the fairy tales that travelers used to tell me! Had knights, castle, escaped tragedy, but you didn’t find a prince to help you. You instead trained and became a warrior of your own right… well you are a heroic princess now?” Kosara marveled, giving Kathryn a most honest stare of marvel.

And then there was the fact that there was some commotion ahead of them. It was weird really, over somewhere ahead, hidden by the terrain and fall forest, there was a lot of jabbering and laughter. Kosara blinked and turned forward, tilting her head.” Who’s laughing? Why are they laughing?” She asked in confusion and looked at the others.” Anybody else think this is weird? I’m curious now!”

Others began to share snatches of illumination of their own homes, but unlike Victoria, they also told a little about themselves in the process. It was good to see these people in a more personal light than that which made them useful to one another. If it came down to it, she could do quite well not knowing anything about her fellow adventurers in any real, personal sense, provided that they get their objective completed and she got another step closer to her own goals. It was, in fact, the reason why she took to the road and got into these little adventures; like many who walked this sort of path, Victoria had her own motivations. Things she had to accomplish. Things which, if the details were fully known, might make others see her in a very different light. But her usual nature put her somewhere in the arena of talkative, inquisitive, even garrulous in the right circumstances. Wine helped. Her more natural personality started to edge into the fore, and quickly she found herself smiling, with mouth slightly agape, ready to share a few words about herself and not just a vague description of home, as others had done.

Of course, common sense stopped her. Not that Victoria possessed an overabundance of it, as she had proven to herself not amazingly long ago, but this feeling of self-preservation gripped her with sudden, icy fingers. She closed her mouth and frowned slightly. Victoria would have to be profoundly less sober and/or feel much safer around these people to divulge certain things about herself. Instead, she put her mind to an interesting and humorous moment in her past to help bring about a contented expression, and refocused her efforts toward the job at hand.

This moment's job at hand involved quietly giving Kosara driving pointers as she led the wagon along. Travel was interesting at times, considering the inexpert nature of the person whose hands were on the reins, but the mule seemed to be an experienced carting animal that knew enough from sheer repetition of routes. Things eventually turned into something of a lull as traffic around them became less during the northward leg of their journey to the Township. Trees cropped up with greater frequency around the road; not quite a fully wooded locale but enough to provide on again, off again light shade from the sun above, cutting off what warmth might still be had from its radiance. Soon enough though, a stillness seemed to take hold of their surroundings.

Victoria was not the first one to notice the sounds coming from ahead. When she did, she breathed a raspy, "Shh shh shh..." tilting her head slightly and taking the reins for just a moment to stop the forward progression of the wagon. The now alert Bard removed her very Bard-y hat and held it up to the side of her head, making an analog attempt to increase the range of her hearing. Whether or not it actually helped, a concerned look formed on her face. She bit her lower lip and peered ahead, hoping to catch something, anything that might clue her in to what was going on.

The breeze, mostly low and calm, kicked up just enough to rustle some leaves about, providing just enough of an opportunity to catch a glimpse ahead, into the unknown. "Curse those trees," she mumbled. Projecting a clearer (but quiet) voice, Victoria enunciated, "A wheel. Sideways, like a cart tipped over. I thought I saw an arm with yellow-green skin, and... hmm." She listened for a moment longer, "And a language I do not know. I know the Common tongue, Elven, and the base language of Orcs, but this?" She shrugged, "Laughter and gibberish to me. I am sorry I cannot tell you more."

Victoria placed her hat down into the wagon with the rest of her belongings and looked to her preserved pig of burden. This appeared to be a hiccup in their otherwise uneventful day trek to the Township of Avonshire.

"B- beautiful?" That wasn't the reaction that Marita had expected. Although she certainly hadn't remembered her home as being run-down or disgusting, beautiful definitely wasn't an adjective she'd ever associated with it. Perhaps these girls had a far more fantastical idea of what the place had looked like than how it actually was. Perhaps this was also a side effect of her leaving out key details that she didn't want to think about and/or were not suitable for light travel conversation with a group of relative strangers. Whatever, she determined that she wouldn't try to dissuade them of their fantasies and simply take the compliments without commenting on it further. As for telling more stories? While it felt good being able to talk about these things after years, she wasn't sure how good of an idea would be or even if she wanted to, even if Kosara was (unintentionally) putting on a great deal of social pressure to do so.

The cleric listened to Kathryn's story, but found herself somewhat distracted. She couldn't place what, but something in her subconscious told her that something was amiss. As it went on, she noticed that it was sound, through the wagon and the mule and the talking there was something else. Voices. But she couldn't get much more than that before Kosara brought up laughter. Laughter? While it was certainly possible that some of the travelers on the road would be having that sort of conversation, that wouldn't have put her on edge like this. Besides, nobody she had seen on the road today seemed in the jovial mood.

"Upturned cart and green skin? I think we might have run into those goblins that we've heard about, let me see if I can get a better look." Marita turned around to face the front of the wagon and made a quick gesture before touching the side of her face, right next to her eyes.

"Light reveal the correct path."

Her voice was as dense as iron and her eyes briefly shone with a bright, almost blinding white light and she could see ahead her sight was directed to right where they needed to be, only for that place to be blocked by Morty's hickory smoked rear end. Briefly, the urge to Turn Undead flashed through her mind. She shook her head and instead grabbed hold of her mace and shield. If they were to fight, making sure she was armed was the best thing she could do right now. And if it was a false alarm, well she could just put them down and no harm would be done.

"No good. If we're due for a fight, stick by me for the time being. I can provide you a blessing that will surely prove useful in the skirmish. If possible, Kosara and Kathryn should swap places. If not, then I'll go up front and she can go out the back." The most irksome detail about this entire ordeal, other than not being able to see what they were up against, was that if she were to cast a boon upon the others here, it would likely expire by the time they actually saw combat. At least she had a bit of time to plan a course of action.

"Nobody actually move until we can confirm that the commotion ahead is indeed malicious."

Kathryn could hear odds and ends of Kosara's and Victoria's conversation as they went but not enough to make out the whole thing. She heard bits of something about a walking food supply and a camel with people water, but she was a bit too deep into her own conversation with Marita to pick up the rest. Looking at Morty the dead/undead pig Kathryn figured it had something to do with that. "Oh... I see." She spoke upon realization. She did find Kosara's summery of Kathryn's story quite enjoyable. "I think I would still be considered a princess in a way. Though I lack any claims to lands or castles at this point in my life. But a heroic princess has a nice ring to it!" But at the end of the day, she was a Pyke now. And while she carried that name she held little royal privilege, no claims to lands or titles, and with a considerably smaller target on her back.

Kathryn was a bit surprised by Marita's confusion to her own reaction to the description of the caves. "Do you not think so?" She supposed there could be caves that didn't look so good. Or maybe it had to do with the Cleric's past, one that she tried her best to separate from in hopes of avoiding all connection towards. "Maybe it was just your words and what you chose to share. Though I haven't seen it with my own eyes, so maybe I filled in a little too many blanks there? My bad." Kathryn spoke with a bit of a smile of embarrassment.

Then there was the laughing. It gave Kathryn a bad feeling, but she couldn't tell much about it. But it made her uneasy. The others noticed it too. Victoria said something about an unknown language, green arm. A downed wagon to join it. Sounded like trouble. Marita jumped to a conclusion faster then Kathryn, but a likely one. Goblins. Kathryn stood up with that in mind. Marita spoke what Kathryn presumed was another spell and prepared to organize the party for a fight. "On it." Kathryn spoke coldly fixing her helmet on her head. Kathryn once armed up and ready for a fight climbed out of the cart with her boots and armor making a solid Thud as she landed. Hand axe drawn she then stepped her way in front of the party ready to intercept the first sign of trouble that arises. Marita seemed to be taking the main control of the situation deciding to act cautiously and carefully until they knew for sure that there was malicious intent afoot. "Shouldn't we get a better look? If there's malice it may be better to cut off the intent of it before it gets worse." Though this was the kind of area Kathryn thrived in more, she's never held a leadership roll of any kind. And most situations like this she was in she fought alongside others armed and armored in identical means as herself. She had no idea how a party like this would function, especially considering that if this did turn into a fight no one in this party have ever faced an enemy together before.

There were only so many ways to approach a stranger with the intent of gathering information from them without looking suspicious. Hugh had long-since mastered the art of such things, and chief among his favored methods was the half-truth presentation of himself as just another traveler looking to educate themselves in the local ways.

It was this, in large part, that influenced his rather lackluster and down to earth appearance. Hugh, for better or worse, was a man who lived and breathed his job, and self-expression was a small price to pay for extraordinary boosts to his effectiveness and conspicuousness. He was just another stubbled face in the crowd. He could go anywhere, be anyone, and his appearance was so nondescript that it was hard to ever see a successful bounty or warrant for arrest being put out for him. He was simply too generic.

It was, in fact, entirely fair to say whatever social appeal Hugh might have was contained entirely within his ability to act… and the fey genetics that -at the very minimum- prevented him from being defined as “ugly”.

Case and point.

Hugh whistled out a low, impressed shrill at the sizable drift of swine currently on their way to the slaughter, catching the attention of their human, a weathered man with salt and pepper hair, who looked like he might just be on the verge of needing to retire this job to someone younger. There was a wagon a little ways ahead of the group of pigs that appeared to be acting as a tether for a great many leads that gently but firmly tugged the mass of swine along. A somewhat younger fellow appeared to be steering the cart, but Hugh couldn’t imagine what he was doing taking the less physically intensive task… assuming they were a relative or hire.

“Quite th’ imper’ssive bunch, wouldn’t ya’ say?” the nigh-venerable man spoke proudly, a single hand stroking his beard and goatee.

Hugh resisted the urge to itch at his own stubble at the sight, as he simply smiled and nodded. “All yours?” He stepped a bit closer at the implied welcome and gestured broadly at the livestock. Hugh didn’t touch them, however, not even in a manner of apparent admiration. Not only couldn’t he be sure how the farmer would respond, but more importantly, he’d no idea how any of the animals would react. For all their open passivity, even with the farmer’s go-ahead, he’d be hesitant just as a matter of course.

“Aye,” the man replied, grinning toothily. “Before ye’ be the best batch we’ve ‘ad in least the past decade.”

“Really now?” Hugh replied with outward and not entirely feigned interest. After all, he was typically always up to learn something new. “They are quite large…” Several of the chonkers actually nearly reached his hip in height; truly, they were almost unnervingly large. “I’m no farmer, so I’ll just have to take your word for it, Mr… Ah,” he spoke up as if in realization, stepping around the swine to hold out his free hand. “I realized I never asked your name. How rude of me to forgo the pleasantries. Hugh, curious traveler, at your service.”

Raising a brow at that, the man nonetheless shook his hand. “Freddy Cumberbatch, ‘umble farmer, at ‘yer service, Mr. ‘Curious Traveler’.”

Hugh snorted mirthfully at that. “Don’t I know it. This ‘Harvest-time’ something or another seems to have everyone in a hurry.”

“Harvestide, laddie,” the man corrected, just as planned. Such a verbal misstep on his own part should continue to enforce the image he was building of himself in Freddy’s mind. “Name’s p’erty self-explanetory. The time b’fer th’ cold rolls in that us smallfolk finally turn our labors inter’ profit and per’pare fer’ the anne’ul celebration.”

Ahah, an opening!

“Is that what all the hurry is about?” Hugh mused thoughtfully. “I’ve been around the block, and winter appears to be coming early this year. I imagine that can’t be good for anyone’s stress.”

“Aye,” Freddy nodded. “Time-tables movin’ up this year.” He hummed in his throat, frowning.

“Pardon me if it’s presumptuous, but when you’ve gotten a feel for so many different places, you tend to grow accustomed to feeling out the mood of new locations more quickly,” Hugh said leadingly. “Maybe I’m just hungry, but a gut feeling is telling me there’s something more troubling than an early winter pressing on the consciousness of the locals.”

Freddy’s brows furrowed at him. “Couldn’t say… Ah’m not the sort to mislead with mere rumors.” Unfortunately, rumors were exactly what Hugh wanted from him. At this point, any lead at all was valuable.

“Like the goblins?” Hugh inquired.

Freddy shook his head. “Nay, the damned goblins are a familiar pest. Well…” he pawed at his goatee. “To be honest, they’re uncommon, ‘cept in the winter. It’s round the time the little blighters tend to get bolder fer’ whatever damned reason.”

“Probably supplies?” Hugh shrugged. “I can’t see it being all that easy for them to find food in the winter. If they don’t raid, they starve. It’s most likely desperation, not that it makes it any better how many people they hurt.”

“Aye,” Freddy nodded. “Ah’d considered as much.” He hummed thoughtfully and gave Hugh a searching look. “Say, yer’ pretty well-spoken fer’ a traveler.”

Hugh blinked at that but chuffed and smiled. “That I am. I have, however, spent the vast majority of my time the past decade in cities and towns educating myself and making a living wherever and however I may find. Perhaps I once spoke a bit ‘rougher’, but it’s long since left my memory. Honestly, my manner of speech had never occurred to me as odd, nor do most people I think.”

“Aye, Mr. Hugh, that they don’t,” Freddy nodded.

“Well, I wish you luck at the butcher’s,” Hugh started, preparing to disengage before the older man’s interest in him became much stronger. As a final redirection of topic, he asked, “I’m planning on being around Avonshire for at least the next week. Anything a traveler should possibly be worried about?”

Freddy hummed at that, taking a moment to herd a couple wayward spine back into the general group. “Well… Iffin’ yer’ fixin t’ stick ‘rund fer’ a while longer, might want to mind the weather. Winter’s comin’ early, and ye’ might find yer’self trapped here for the fer’seeable future. If ye’ are, you best have saved up enough coin, cause work’ll be harder t’ find without a local presence.”

Hugh nodded along. Fair concerns, all told. After all, the locals would mostly be trying to conserve their own coin in these slow chilled months of little profit. Indeed, an outsider might have a more difficult time with seeing them part with said coin.

Bidding a final farewell to the pig farmer, Freddy Cumberbatch, Hugh briefly returned to his self-imposed watch, but luckily, it seemed as if no-one was particularly pasting the adventuring party any undue attention. His token gesture made, Hugh returned to his investigations.

(/._./)

He waited some time till such a moment as Freddy and his herd of pigs were long since out of sight, before he chose a new target. Best to ensure he wasn’t noted as a nosy outsider by many eyes.

This time, he chose a small family riding a cart loaded to the brim with barrels of -from what he could tell- all manner of crops, fruits and vegetables alike. Normally, he wouldn’t have much grounds to strike up a conversation, but the cart was currently tugged off to the side of the road to handle a dislodged wheel.

As he approached, Hugh could see that the apparent mother and two small children -one of which was an infant- could only really look on anxiously, as a young man struggled to lift the ominously leaning back-left side of the cart while simultaneously levering a wheel back into place. Hugh frowned at the nigh-overflowing cart and then at the man’s task, before stepping forward.

“You know,” Hugh began conversationally, doing his best not to let condescension leak into his tone and leaning on his staff several feet away, “you might have an easier time of it if you unloaded the cart first…” And/or, for that matter, just asked for his wife’s help. Assuming the similarly young woman could trust her elder child to hold her infant for a short time, the man could do the lifting, and she could slide the wheel back into place. This seemed like an obvious solution, so was the young man just engaging in relatively youthful stupidity and trying to show off? Possibly.

“Wah-?” the young man started in surprise, turning away from his task and wiping beads of sweat from his brow that was reddened from futile effort. His eyes panned over Hugh’s form for several seconds, before he scoffed. “Mind ‘yer own business, stranger. Les’ yer’ gonna make yerself useful, I’ve got work t’ do.”

So, youthful stupidity. Gotchya.

Hugh openly rolled his eyes and doffed his backpack, leaning his staff atop it on the ground. The extra weight wouldn’t be doing him any good for the next little while. Rolling up his sleeves, Hugh stepped up to the back of the wagon and reached for the first of the barrels, only to have his hand slapped away by the now standing young man, who was glowering at him, still somewhat red in the face, likely from a combination of effort and frustration.

“The hell you think yer’ doing?” he demanded. “Best not try that again, or you’re face’ll be havin’ words with my fist.”

Hugh snorted dismissively. “Disregarding exactly how utterly outclassed a mere civilian like you would be in a physical confrontation with an adventurer…” He enjoyed the open blanche of the man. “I’m just doing what you said and ‘making myself useful’.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t let your pride get in the way, and just let me help. The more time you waste, the more time there is for the weather or far less savory individuals than myself to catch up with you… and your family.”

The young man’s face reddened, and he puffed up like he was going to start shouting, before glancing in his wife’s direction and then deflating with a grumble, as he bit out, “Fine.”

That little issue set aside, the young man begrudgingly set about doing things Hugh’s way, as the two of them slowly but surely unloaded the cart. By the end of things, Hugh was sweating notably more so than the young man. For all his skill and agility, he was no physical powerhouse. Hard labor like this didn’t agree with him, but if there was an upside to be found, his clear struggles seemed to soothe the wounded pride of the young farmer, who handled the lifting and moving with far more ease and routine.

Twenty minutes later, as the cart wheel retook it’s rightful place, Hugh groaned and leaned back against the repaired cart in relief. “See, not so hard. Far less time wasted and far less risk of the cart collapsing under too much weight in the meantime.”

The young man grumbled, but at the nudging of his wife, he sighed long-sufferingly and held out a calloused hand. “Dwight.”

Clasping it firmly, the half-elf hid a wince at the perhaps competitive grip he was forced to contest for several moments. “Hugh.”

Dwight sniffed and released his grip. “Ya’ can’t lift fer’ shit, but…”

“Hun,” the wife broke in, elbowing her taller man.

“Yeh, yeah,” he sighed, groaning. “Thank ye’ for your assistance.”

“No problem,” Hugh replied dryly, shrugging somewhat self-deprecatingly. “I’m no muscle-bound laborer. ‘Adventurer’ though I may be, I’ve always relied on skill and wits to carry the day. It’s the sort of approach that is valuable in nearabouts every situation.” He smiled. “Instead of tackling problems head on, I do my best to think around them, expending far less effort for the same or better results. That said…” He glanced at the mass of barrels on the ground. “I made this mess in a way, so don’t think I won’t help you clean it up. In the meantime, I’m not a local, so if you don’t mind, I’d love to ask some questions about the area?”

Begrudgingly, Dwight agreed.

All in all, Hugh came away from that conversation with more tidbits of farming knowledge than he could shake a stick at. While they couldn’t -or wouldn’t- clarify more regarding the vague feeling of unease that lay upon the land, they could further espouse upon what he’d mostly already gathered by osmosis. As farmers, they were naturally unhappy about the early winter and having to harvest several crops early or risk them be ruined entirely. They also happened to be delivering several batches of grapes and honey for a friend who lived further out. Apparently both foodstuffs were primarily produced on the outskirts of the region.

Beyond that, there was little to say or learn, and Hugh moved on once the cargo had been returned to its proper place. After another round of checking for traps or unsavory sorts tailing the party, Hugh made the executive decision that the rest of his time might be better served keeping a weather eye out. After all, any information he might gather would be useless if his team got killed because he wasn’t performing his role adequately. That said, one or two more divergences couldn’t hurt.

(/._./)

The pond was quiet and calm, tastefully so. Some distance away, the trade road bustled quietly with the sound of the party’s retreating cart, as Hugh observed the goings on with a raised brow.

An older fellow sat nearby with their fishing rod’s bait bobbing merrily on the water’s surface, a basket of river fish sitting beside them. Indeed, Hugh couldn’t recall their name, but they certainly seemed the sort of fish to leap up rapids, which was notable considering the presence of no such rapids anywhere nearby that he could tell. One might worry about such catches beginning to stink if they weren’t sold posthaste.

“Not worried about those going bad?” Hugh inquired. He was honestly somewhat curious, as he really had no idea how long it took for fish to become unsafe for consumption.

The man simply shrugged, much to Hugh’s dismay. In all honestly, the conversation the followed was painfully slow, given the passivity of the target and Hugh’s inability to find a decent conversation hook until much further down the line than seemed reasonable.

What little relevant information he managed to get out of the man was also distinctly unhelpful. Apparently, the old codger had gotten a letter just last week from a cousin who lived in a border village called Southmoor. Given the circumstances, this could be either proof of nothing or one strike against the rumor of communication issues with outlying settlements. Hugh would simply add it to the list, but overall?

“This was a waste of time,” he grumbled once out of earshot. Granted, it was less of a waste than sitting around chatting, but the point remained. He’d gotten unlucky it seemed, and nothing of real substance had been found. Sighing long-sufferingly, Hugh returned to the party and set about his vigil properly, slowly patrolling a small circle around the cart.

(/._./)

A thought had occurred to him quite quickly upon his return.

What the hell happened to Naivara?

Last he’d honestly seen her, they’d been in town, as he’d split off from the group to attend to his own self-imposed mission. Had she seen his act as an example to follow? Actually, since he’d never really explained what he was doing, what the hell did she manage to take away from his actions? Especially given he’d often been lost to the party’s sight entirely and had to quickly jog down the road to catch up again.

No one seemed to be concerned about it, nor did they make mention of it even once in the following hours, as the forestry began to pick up in thickness.

Had… he been wrong? Had he misjudged her as trustworthy so badly, or had she simply managed to get lost? He quite doubted the latter, given that someone of her profession should be well versed in navigating the land, and with such a massive landmark as the trade road around…? Her departure seemingly couldn’t be anything but deliberate.

Perhaps… she’d been captured or assassinated? Somehow, that seemed more reasonable, given what he’d seen of her thus far. Perhaps…

His hackles rising interrupted any further thoughts in that direction, and Hugh couldn’t help stiffening up, as a strange quiet wormed its way into the area. His gut curdled, and that ever-present feather-light touch of fey intuition once more knocked at his mind. It wasn’t just a lack of fellow travelers that brought such silence… but instead the all too damning absence of nature’s background noise.

An ambush? A large predator? It could be all too many things that would scare off the wildlife.

Still, it seemed as though his fellow half-elf was feeling that same intuition, as the cart crested a rise over a notably more forested section of the area. Abruptly, the purple-clad Bard liberated the reins from the tiefling’s far less adept hands and brought the mule to an abrupt halt, doffing her hat to apparently enhance something only she was hearing.

Consumed in his thoughts and having been patrolling behind the cart at that moment, Hugh had been mostly buffeted by the noise of ongoing conversation and the clamor of the wagon, but now that it was suddenly so silent?

The half-elf crouched and crept the rest of the way up the rise, peering over the side and squinting futilely at the foliage below. He could hear it, now that the noise of the party was brought to an overall halt, the sound of a grating harsh language that tickled at his memory. It seemed in this observational respect too that his fellow half-elf fared better than him, as she proclaimed the existence of green-yellow skin.

Goblins. It almost had to be. Honestly, Hugh hadn’t expected they’d be earning their pay so soon this far from the regional borders, but in hindsight, this… would be a good test of competence. Yes, as much as he’d love to avoid such conflict altogether, especially given that this wasn’t actually their mission, merely their official excuse, this would still do quite nicely.

“Sorry to say,” Hugh muttered quietly, “but in addition to Common (obviously), I only hold the Elvish tongue to my name… along with my rather distantly ancestral language of the Fey.”

Scowling, he found himself tensing harshly at the sound of the cleric casting again. Bracing himself, he felt some of that tension leave his shoulders, as the wave of damned magic didn’t come. Instead, Marita seemed distinctly disappointed, as she and Kathryn disembarked from the cart and readied themselves for battle.

Marita made a fair point about not barging in, but on the other hand… “Under no circumstances should we bring our cart, as we descend,” Hugh spoke up firmly. “Not only would we abandon any possible chance at subtlety, but the vulnerable mule could be killed in any conflict that might arise. It costs us nothing to leave it behind up here. The beast seems docile enough, and while secured to that cart, I can’t see us having any trouble tracking it down if it wanders.”

He sighed. “That aside, stealth may be the least of our worries… and yet remain absolutely vital all the same.” Firming up his shoulders, Hugh drew his bow and checked the string’s security. “If this is goblins, which seems most likely to be the case, and considering the presence of the overturned cart…? We may very well have a hostage situation on our hands.”

His expression darkened. “I’ve dealt with these pathetic bottom feeders on multiple occasions in my line of work. It is difficult to imagine more cowardly, selfish and ruthless beings, who are -somehow- ironically the most prideful little shits around.” Running a quick once-over of his stock of darts, Hugh continued. “They are proud, yet simultaneously at least subconsciously aware of their own weakness and maliciously clever enough to compensate for said weakness. And roving, uncivilized bands like these also tend to be sadistic cannibals… In all likelihood, we may yet have survivors down below, ready and waiting to be made meat-shields at the slightest provocation.”

He grumbled at the necessity of offering, but making a final once-over of his two heavily-armored companions…? Yeah. “As a Ki cultivator, I have the ability to do something similar to magic. In particular, I can infuse a fairly sized thirty foot area and those of my choice within it with the power to be all but one with the shadows, leaving absolutely no non-magical trace of their passage. To a degree, it also muffles sound as well.” Sighing, he scratched lightly at his stubble. “Personally, to be safe, I’d much prefer to scout ahead alone, but if that’s unacceptable, this is the best I can do to mitigate the chances of us having a much more morally compromising situation before us. If there are hostages, our best bet is to strike first, strike hard and get the civvies shielded behind us.”

Huffing, he begrudgingly admitted, “I most often default to my bow in situations of uncertain opposition, but if things are dire, I can handle myself in melee just fine. In addition, my Ki can manifest a single simple illusion over the hostages if we can divert attention from them. I can make it about five feet wide in any direction, so it should be sufficient.” Rolling his jaw tensely, he exhaled. “In all honesty, because I don’t use magic to do what I do, rather my own internal reserves of cultivated life force, I’ll be fairly tapped out on anything else of significant magic-adjacent value, but regardless, I feel the best thing I can contribute to our efforts is the critical element of absolute surprise.”

New information, however scant it might have been, led to an increased sense of wariness. This was part and parcel of the adventuring life. In the hopes of maintaining greater openness of movement, the decision was reached among the majority of the party to leave the wagon behind. In all fairness, the increased mobility options were actually secondary to the safety of the mule in a potentially hostile situation, were one to read the metaphorical room.

Being on foot came with some advantages. A mostly unobstructed view was one such advantage, as thick trunks posed the greatest threat to the party's vantage rather than wagon canvas or bright, autumn-kissed leaves. This led to a series of revelations that might test the resolve of persons lesser than the stalwart team of professional soldiers of fortune such as the group which came down the road. To be blunt, it was a brutal sight that posed many more questions than it answered. But let us start with the answers: The laughter and jabbering indeed came from Goblin-folk. What looked like a supposedly organized squad of the mean, green beasties could be sighted in the general vicinity to a cart which was indeed turned over on its side. Three could be seen gathered around a large barrel near the cart. Another three around a campfire, above which something fleshy cooked. One might barely be seen a ways back, near a large rock which jutted from the ground; atop said rock was another Goblin carrying a shortbow. He seemed to have been placed there with the intent of keeping some sort of watch.

But the devil, so to speak, is always in the details. Three large barrels littered the area, either empty or being emptied. One might imagine from the scent wafting about the area that those barrels held wine, and probably very good wine, once upon a time. The scent of noble grapecraft did have its competition, though - the aroma of some manner of cooked, probably unseasoned meat hung greasily in the air as well, lending this place to have a feeling of excesses. And perhaps more stunningly out of place from everything else, a carefully crafted coffin lay out in the middle of open ground near the tipped wagon. It was large enough to fit a Human or Half-Elf, were one in the market for a body box. Perhaps even more gruesome and related to that last detail, was the portion of meat sizzling above the campfire. You can't quite tell from this distance, but you think you might see toes and an anklebone to one end of it.

The Goblins appear to be unaware of the party's presence, or really anything else, at this point. More to the truth of thing, they appear to be in differing states of drunkenness. Hostile to one another as much as anything else, as well. Two of them by the campfire appear to be dead to the world, as is their "lookout" atop the rock. Most of the others are armed with wicked looking knives and short swords. Those who are more active are gingerly filling cups and bowls from the casks of wine, treating it with the utmost of care before scurrying back a few paces and slurping it down unceremoniously. Some still chew on sections of crudely hacked apart meat. Mystery meat, one might imagine.

Your initial intelligence when coming into this region was that Goblins were sighted near the edges of the region bordering wilder lands. To see an obvious presence near to the center of Avonshire went against the usual reports of the region, and counterintuitive to words picked up from speaking to locals.

The ball is in your court, Adventurers.

Their little friendly and fun travel through the woods turned rather abruptly into a forest mystery of adventurous proportions like one of those stories the road weary adventurers who have traveled far and had stopped for respite at the oasis would tell at night. There were all the ingredients here! A forest, supposedly upturned cart, weird voices/noises and the party had no idea what’s really happening! It was amazing!” Sure~!” Kosara chimmed as they told her that she and Kathryn should swap places, not a surprising move all things considered. On one side you had a woman in a coat and on the other there was a giant of a woman in armor with all those amazing muscles! Kosara was now seriously pondering why the self proclaimed half giant wasn’t dressed like a barbarian!? If she was, she’d see all those muscles, but no, it was armor all the way. She lightly shook her head.’ Focus on the adventure at hand!’ She reminded herself. Them probably perfect abs came later... yes.

She then looked at Hugh in horror.” Indeed, we should leave the wagon away from the conflict! The mule might get hurt.” Kosara nodded, looking at the animal that was leading their merry travel so far. It didn't look overly concerned with what was happening. Did it know something the rest of them didn’t, or was this common enough situation in the life of a mule? She knew camels could be very indifferent of things happening too at times. Maybe this was something similar, or maybe it just hadn’t realized the possible danger.

“Well, I can fight at range and up close if I have to!” She stated ,pulling her small crossbow, her eyes filled with sparkles of excitement. She hadn’t had a battle since forever! Grandpa was the last one to bring her anywhere dangerous and it wasn’t goblins back then, she fought kobolds under his guidance and cooperation. Granted Grandpa was too powerful, so he mostly kept her protected while she got her feet wet into the whole fighting thing at first! Now though Gramps wasn’t around and she had other people for support and to support! It was going to be marvelous, though safety’s first! Kosara closed her eyes, placing a hand on her chest and focusing her mind as magical energies surged across her skin and formed a magical protective layer as she used one of the things Grandpa taught her – Mage Armor. Well it was his version of Mage armor, which in reality was considered a warlock ability, but Kosara had no real idea what Warlocks were per say despite being one. Now prepared for this, she double checked her crossbow and nodded.

“So… need me to open the combat with a spell? Pretty sure I can hit the one on the rock from here with one of the spells Grandpa taught me, with the crossbow though, I will have to get a lot closer.” She asked, eyeing the gobbos in teh distance. This was indeed an adventure out of a fairy tale. It always started with kobolds or goblins! Like in all the tales the traveling adventurers told her as a child!

"Right, besides this isn't our wagon or mule. It would be untoward to bring it into circumstances where it could be damaged without good reason." On top of the previously stated disrespectful nature of damaging a loaned item like this, it would also make them look even worse than they probably came off already. Sheriff Gregory would also have to pay for repairs/replacements to the wagon and he was already spending quite a bit out of his own pocket up to this point. Even if he was potentially still a malefactor for the investigation, the fact that he was stretching himself thin financially to cover for the party was something that couldn't be denied.

"As far as tactics goes, I believe we should split into 2 groups. I don't think Hugh should be alone in case there's another group of goblins we can't see or some other unexpected occurrence springs on us, he'll have someone to back him up. Kathryn, one other person and I should travel up the road and attack from the West, while Hugh and his partner can travel from the South through the foliage to attack their flank." As far as who should go with him if not both Kosara and Victoria... Kosara could heal if something went wrong, but the prospect of her remaining silent enough to not break stealth even with the enemy wallowing in various levels of intoxication was in doubt.

"Victoria, you should probably accompany Hugh, Kosara you come along with us. I can cast Bless on the three of us before we move to give us an extra edge in the fight. It won't last more than a minute, but hopefully we can end it before that becomes a concern. As far as when for the flank to jump in, I could create an opening. I did mention that I was trained in using clerical magic, but it's a bit more specific than that. My training taught me how to use the Voice of Law. My words themselves are imbued with the power of Order itself. I can command these goblins to drop their weapons and even though they wouldn't understand my words, they would comply. Shortly after we engage, I have them drop their weapons, and then you strike while they're defenseless. Is that plan to everyone's satisfaction?"

She certainly hoped so, because their time for planning wouldn't last forever. As absorbed in their sordid merrymaking as they were, the goblins were bound to notice them in due time. As far as she could tell without thinking too hard on it, this plan seemed to suit their individual strengths while also not contradicting the personal sensibilities the party carried. Well except perhaps Victoria's flair for being as visibly striking as possible. It really said something about the rest of the crew that the woman in the massive purple hat was likely the best suited to stealth out of the lot of them. The only other objection that seemed likely was that attacking disarmed individuals was dishonorable, but considering these goblins had just attacked a wagon full of unarmed individuals and was eating them, she hoped that it was self evident that dealing with them in an honorable manner was more than they deserved.

If it were up to Victoria, she might have used the opportunity of the Goblins being caught off-guard to rush in - or more accurately, utilize the superior fighting experience and armament of the rest of her newfound party while giving support somewhere off to the side in relative safety. A little song, bolstering words, and the like while they licked their wounds and then carried about their way afterward. This was not quite the fast and thrilling moment that she might have committed to paper later on. But this group was very new. No one really had a feel for the others' abilities and competencies. No one really shared much past the basics. So, to Victoria's point of view, here they all were pulling a plan out of their collective asses with the hope that it wouldn't result in anyone's death.

Check that; anyone of their deaths. Victoria held no strong opinion against the concept of the party arranging a meeting between the Goblins and their patron deities. There might even be money in it for her.

Still, the plans laid out as they were did not accurately reflect her general role in a pitched battle. It was almost like they saw her as another hand to hold a sword. She did make it a point to mention, as Marita drafted her plan following Hugh's observations, "I concur that my talents are best plied in the shadows, at first, though I fear that after the fight is joined I might do him a disservice." Keeping hidden and being in her presence as she plucked the strings of The Weave were generally not compatible, the showy person that she was. "For staging, yes, I shall join Hugh. Following this, I need to position myself where I might better support those of you in the thick of battle." She looked down to her constant companion, the burlap-wrapped Morty, adding, "I can send him hickory-smoked support if the baddies come a'calling." The rest of that sentence was, "unless she needed it", but it was left unsaid.

Victoria's main point, the one which she attempted to stress in her opinion just earlier, was that her role was that of support. With this in mind, the itinerant Bard stepped up to their two self-appointed frontline combatants and addressed them in quietish tones, "Marita, Kathryn, I know this probably isn't anything new to you. We all have the little parts we play in this dance, though yours are the most important. More than this, yours are the most dangerous. Were I in charge of this, I could think of none better to lead the charge against these creatures." An understanding expression went to Marita first, as Victoria continued, "I will never put my faith in your deity, Marita; not as you do. But despite our differences, I can put my faith in you to see this through. And I do." Turning to Kathryn and having to crane her neck upward to make eye contact (difficult as that was through her helmet), she added this time with a mischievous smile which bordered on the amused, "Now you? I cannot wait to see the righteous carnage you are physically capable of spreading around the battlefield, Lady Half-Giant. You're a force, just look at you."

The inspirational, Necromantic Bard threw back her purple-lined, charcoal cloak to ready for more dexterous movement, then adjusted the strap on her violin case and sword belt respectively. "Now, we know what we need to do. We are warriors. Heroes. We've got this." Looking over everyone equally, Victoria nodded a bolstering affirmation, finishing with, "So let's be heroes. Are we ready? Let's go." While she was not a fan of taking appointments of command, Victoria was an accomplished speaker, able to channel nuanced emotion into every syllable and bring out surprising result in others. It was one of her greatest nonmagical gifts, aside perhaps from her abilities as a performer. Disagreements among the party were meaningless right now as battle was to be joined and blood shed across the warm colors of the autumn leaves. Their first battle would color their every action they took as a group which followed. For everyone's sake Victoria wanted them inspired and optimistic, especially the two out front drawing enemy aggression.

Goblins. A pest in most lands, a great danger in others. She and Ser Lucas had faced off against the vile creatures plenty enough, but they fought dirty. In many cases they were even more cruel then those who had stolen her home from her. This case wasn't so different. There was not only evidence of foul play, but of casualties. She wanted to take her axes and send them into the creatures who would commit acts such as these. A rage in her wanted to be unleashed and give out justice in it's most pure and violent form against the murderous creatures. Kathryn was visibly upset thinking ahead, but her expression changed as she calmed down. Unlikely that others could notice through her helmet her posture showed that of someone who was ready for a fight. Hugh was the first to come up with a workable plan. It seemed strait forward enough and simple enough it would be hard for anyone with an ounce of discipline to mess up.

Kathryn and Marita would be their frontliners while the rest of the party went off to the flank to cause as many problems as possible for the poor bastards. And if there were hostages or survivors it would be a chance for the others to save them before things got too far out of control. Kathryn had some experience in pitched battles and knew from experience that once fighting broke out to it's fullest it was hard to keep control of a battle, let alone regain it once lost. Hence, the simple plan held much more validity to it. Kosara as well listed her versatility in combat as well. Kathryn was glad to see the now fluffy covered tiefling was able to hold her own in combat, though Kathryn worried about how safe she would be. "It may be better if Marita and I get their attention first before any magic spells are thrown on them to make the most of our surprise advantage. Maybe we can surprise them multiple times and cause a panic amongst them?" A well organized enemy could put up a deadly fight. An unorganized enemy was easy pickings. Seemed the party also agreed leaving the mule and wagon behind was a good idea. Was there risk of theft or loss? Yes, but considering the enemy in front the risk was minimal.

Marita brought up a mild revision to Hugh's plan where one of their spell casters would join the two heavy fighters to provide a more hands on support. Kathryn saw the logic there, though had a minimal understanding of a caster's ability in combat, but figured it was best to not underestimate it. Most of her fighting style consisted of swords, shields, axes, and pikes. "The plan sounds pretty effective to me." Marita seemed to have a better understanding with the arcane and how it could be applied to a combat situation. Kathryn hesitated another response, motioned as if to speak up and then stopping herself. Hearing Victoria explain that she could use their dead pig friend as support Kathryn wasn't sure if she was relieved to have another ally or a bit terrified that her backup would normally be considered dinner. She figured a bit of both, but in her mind that was a good thing as her enemies would likely be having identical thoughts, though they would be the dinner's enemies too.

Kathryn appreciated Victoria's words of inspiration. She hadn't participated in a real fight like this since Ser Lucas passed. She had worries her abilities in her mind did not match what they were in reality. She felt a little better about them in the moment though. More thoughts did continue to press her mind in some regards. Regards that wouldn't let themselves go unless Kathryn acted on them, or she would be left wondering for ages about them. "I know it's unlikely, but I think we should give them a chance to peacefully surrender. Face justice in the modern civilized way." Where they would likely face execution for their crimes. "I know it's unlikely, but it seems wrong to not at least give them the chance?" Not only did Kathryn know it was unlikely they would surrender, she was hopeful they wouldn't. She wanted a fight. She wanted a fight to not only show her skills to the party, to show she could be apart of the team without being a drag, but she wanted a chance to prove to herself that even without Ser Lucas in the picture she could hold her own. And finally, she missed the rush of it. She missed the adrenaline of extreme fighting. The risk, the rewards, the organized chaos of it. She loved it, she craved it. And despite her wishes to be as honorable as possible, her wishes to strike fear into the hearts of the vile beasts was stronger.

Luckily, Hugh’s almost hurried and emphatic assertion that the mule and cart should remain behind didn’t appear to come off as rude. In fact, the moment it was mentioned, the rest of the group seemed to accept and adjust for it without a second thought. Hugh couldn’t help letting out a quiet sigh of relief at the unanimous prevalence of common sense.

The tiefling seemed all too excited for what was to come, to be honest. Hugh watched with mixed trepidation and interest, as she cast her magic, a shimmering film of a barrier settling over her body. In his experience, such a barrier was not good at taking blows head on. In other words, it acted just like real armor, much more useful when angled against blows and tested sparingly, as the user did their best to dodge most blows instead. In response to her proposal, he hummed, “Better still, why not see about trying to fire off all at once? If your attack doesn’t finish off the archer, then perhaps mine will.”

Marita proposed a revision to the initial plan that Hugh saw no reason to contest. He was out of practice working with groups, but in hindsight, making sure he only had to protect a single spellcaster seemed ideal. Although…

Victoria seemed somewhat put off by the idea of skulking around, claiming her abilities would best be used in the open. In that case, putting aside any personal dislike… and ignoring that utter nonsense about ‘heroes’... “Why not just remove the middleman?” Hugh opined, frowning. “I’ll take the tiefling, and Victoria can head straight for the frontlines from the get-go. Besides,” he nodded his head at the probable warlock, “her magical barrier and demonstrated agility mean she’ll likely be less vulnerable if she and I get swarmed by stragglers.”

He shook his head at Kathryn’s naive suggestion. “They are, at this very moment, eating a sentient being. ‘Modern justice’...” He barely withheld a scoff, but the dismissiveness towards the idea was clear. “What are we meant to do? Arrest them? They would face the noose or the block for their crimes regardless. Of that, there is no question.” He raised a single brow. “Or are you perhaps suggesting we have them throw down their weapons and send them on their way with a promise of good behavior? No, there are some lines you simply do not tolerate being crossed, and we are long past them.”

“Now then,” he brought up a final thought. “As I mentioned before, I can use my Ki to give us an edge in getting the drop on them. In particular, It is my intent to infuse all of us with the essense of the world around us, in part causing us to become one with the natural Ki of the world. I will hear any objecters now and exclude them from the effect.” After a long moment, he hummed. It seemed none were opposed. In that case. “Very well. Hold still, and don’t give what happens all that much thought. This may feel… strange.”

With his left hand still occupied by his bow, his right rose before his chest. Muttering under his breath, his hand cupped, then fisted, then knifed down, before slowly spreading out into a downwards-facing palm, helping him to shape his cultivated life force, as it began to seep out of his body. As this occurred, the shade cast by the forest canopy and Hugh himself almost seemed to writhe, the air gaining a strange taste, like all who were breathing it could not seem to draw it in, yet still managed to breath unhindered all the same.

The air almost seemed to grow hazy -yet not-, as it rippled outwards into a slowly growing radius around Hugh, the writhing of the shadows spreading to every new one they touched and then deepening in a manner that somehow invited no attention. No, despite the fact that something strange was going on, all within and underneath the effect could see and feel clearly. But even so, allies or not, one could not help but find their gaze almost accidentally passing over their own comrades uncomprehendingly, almost as if seeing through them and yet knowing implicitly that they were there.

“Good, it seems to have worked,” Hugh’s warbled voice almost sounded like it was coming from underwater, like the very air was trying to swallow his words the moment they left his mouth. “The technique is a bit indiscriminate, but I can at least control who it affects. Once you leave the radius, it will falter, but if you need to become concealed again, just return to me. The effect is constant so long as I can maintain it.”

With that, he nodded and hunched, beginning to slowly move north-westward, the grass leaving not a whisper in his wake and even springing back into place as though it had never been disturbed by his passage at all. He crept forward till he could sidle up behind the western of a pair of trees just up the road on either side of it. As he moved, the radius of reaching shadows and strangeness went with him and then halted in turn, just barely managing to keep the rest of the group within itself.

Aside from the occasional laughter and snatch of conversation in a guttural, whiny language that no one seems to be able to understand, a series of burps (birthed of pilfered wine) let fly in a competitive nature for volume, depth, and duration, and the occasional meat-fart, most of what can be heard is the rustle of wind through leaves. No animals, be they the beasts of the earth or the birds of the sky; nary a cricket chirp nor scratching of an unwary squirrel upon tree bark could be heard over the gibbering victory sounds of the inebriated antagonists. The aroma of meat and sizzling fat hung irregularly in the air at the whims of the prevailing breeze, which itself suppressed the otherwise omnipresent scents of a rural autumn.

As this group of intrepid adventurers silently (and dear sweet bacon was it silent) moved to their intended locations to attempt control over the likely field of battle, the Goblins did not seem any the wiser. There was one moment where a single diminutive greenish bandit stood from near the fire, its mouth agape and eyes suddenly wide. A skinny arm reached up in the general direction of the party as they maneuvered, quite possibly to alert the others to the uninvited approach of tall humanoids to ruin their feasting and fun. The next second saw this Goblin close his eyes tight and let forth a single, quite gooey sneeze upon one of its fellow before crouching back down, blissfully unaware of anything amiss happening and returning to chew on a couple of bones before tossing them into the fire, stripped of any discernible flesh. A fuss was kicked up around the fire, following the phlegmy assault, but nothing that didn't resolve itself in a short moment.

No one even seemed to notice the shadows deepening on the other side of the road and upon it; no twitch of ear or uttering to indicate that they saw anything moving from within it. The lookout is still laying atop the large rock, bow in hand yet apparently so addled by drink as to not know and/or care about the events around. So the question persists; what do you do?