Cavendish listened with a malcontented sneer on his face for the vast majority of the explanations given to him by the party. Details which he appeared to find particularly amusing were met with a glance back to his assembled men. The more professional looking of the bunch seemed to share the Constable's amusement, with smiles being seen from beneath hands raised to shield their eyes from the sun. The other men, those in more common clothing with likely lent weaponry, listed uneasily from side to side, occasionally murmuring among themselves. A few of these looked expectantly to the Constable, as if waiting for something from the man.

Between moments of having his sport, Cavendish was looking over the new arrivals with an eye for detail. He didn't seem to observe much from the Bard, but kept his look of self-assurance as his observations of the others continued. A ruse, coincidence, the truth, or just a ploy to maintain control of the situation; this was difficult to say. The exception to this was a flash of confusion as the Tiefling started off the conversation with a barrage of reports that probably needed an interpreter, were one not present. In any case, as soon as those present said their peace to him, he unshouldered his great and shiny warhammer and slid it into a loop on his belt, then waved his men away from more serious posturing. Speaking to them, he said, "Well boys, it looks like these heroes my dear cousin sent handled it. Back to business. You men," he motioned abstractly at the militiamen gathered, "...won't be needed after all. Go on about your day. You are all dismissed, and thank you so much for volunteering this morning." He gave them a lingering look, and finished up with, "Leave your things with the guards."

Back to the party, Cavendish addressed some of their statements. "Coffin Goblin..." he mused, giving a little chuckle. He didn't seem to take Kosara seriously. To Hugh, he regarded the use of semi-formality with the Sheriff, responding, "I'm sure that Mr. Arbalest would love to hear you call him that. He's the type. Just remember, you all got hired to hunt greenskins. So long as you're in my town, keep to your own and leave the other vermin to me and my boys. I hope we understand each other." And finally to Kathryn, "Casualty? Oh. That's a recovered body. The L'Rose family," he jerked his thumb in the direction of Cecily, Lizbeth, and now Victoria (who was still comforting the child), "asked for help. Seeing as you recovered it, this isn't the constabulary's problem anymore. That's between you and them."

The Constable turned around to walk back the way he came, speaking one last sage piece of advice. "Keep your nose out of things that don't concern you here. You start getting notions, you bring it to me." There was a lack of desire to speak further evident in his manner, and he simply walked off, back up the road toward the township's center. The last few members of the militia were handing over spears to the three better equipped soldierly types and filtering away, apparently glad to do so.



The group hadn't made it quite fully into the township just yet, but even from this vantage some things could be observed. Directly to the west of the main gate and taking up space as far as vision allowed, given the circumstances, was a vast array of canvas and other cloth structures like large tents and pavilions, around which many working-class types could be seen. It was orderly and clean, as much as it might be, and seemed to have a number of hastily assembled stalls wherein farmers sold goods, some directly out of the back of wagons. It had the feel of a huge Farmers' Market, where the goods of the region could be acquired by all. Other than this, one could occasionally hear the beating of a smithy hammer or telltale sounds of wood being rasped down or lathed. Most of the people coming out of or going into this section resemble farmers or laborers or some kind. To the east, more permanent structures were raised, with shingles and signs indicating various legitimate businesses, many of which catered to travelers. And straight ahead, even through the din of foot traffic and occasional horses, one could see great trees toward the center of town. The main road led right into them, like a park in the town center. Throughout all of this, the decorations for the upcoming Harvestide festival could be seen in the forms of autumnal themes and stacking of colored gourds.

Cecily began to approach the group, followed by Victoria had a supportive hand on Lizbeth's shoulder. The two of them seemed to be getting over an emotional moment. "Your friend told me... what happened. I'm just sick over all of this. Um... so I want to repay you for everything you have done, but I didn't bring anything of worth with me. The wine is already paid for and just needs to be delivered, so... Look, I'm sorry, but if you can help me just a little bit more, I'll help you however I can while you're in town. I know an Innkeeper, of sorts, but I don't know if it's a place up to your standards. Hmm... Oh, my family does own a hayloft in town, if you need... No, that's silly. Okay, maybe after your contract is done, I can invite all of you back to the Rose River Vineyard for a while as my guests? Would... would that be okay?"

"Please?" finally piped up Lizbeth, wiping her dampened face with her sleeve. She pointed toward the wagons while blinking red-rimmed eyes, adding, "That's my Grandpa."

The Constable definitely knows what's going on with the disappearances. That was Marita's immediate reaction. There was no evidence towards this conclusion, but the way he spoke along with what little they had been told of him before made her 80% certain this was the case. Of course, it was entirely possible for him to merely be oafish and territorial over what little domain he had power over, but that would merely change him from malicious to boorishly incompetent. Regardless, even as someone who wasn't an active participant in that exchange, it left a bad taste in her mouth for law enforcement to act in such an unbecoming way.

They were now clear to enter Avonshire and begin their investigation in earnest, but it had been made painfully clear now more than ever that they'd need to maintain a low profile. Perhaps if she were here by herself she'd have more leeway on how she conducts an inquisition, but with a crew as conspicuous as they were, they'd need to walk on eggshells.

"We do need a place to stay while we're here, so that inn would be more than appreciated, and we'd be honored to visit your vineyard. What do you need help with?" The inn would certainly not be to Marita's standards, but there were very few places in the entire region that would be. More to the point, an innkeeper was a good, if perhaps cliché way to try to get information on the settlement and potential leads on this mystery. And normally accepting this kind of visit wholesale was something Marita wouldn't be too inclined to do, but she would feel awful to say no to a grieving family like that. The death of family was hard enough without them being dismembered and partially consumed. Lastly, although they had time restricted business to take care of, it wouldn't hurt to hear out the lady.

Kosara was grateful when somebody took the torch in retelling the rest of the details… Hugh took to the challenge and then she was quickly disappointed when it turned out he wasn’t telling about the real problem she struggled to figure how to mention! The leg roast… wait that thought came out wrong. The roasted leg… she blinked and shook her head. Her real problem was to figure how to bring out the topic of potentially these two’s family being cooked and eaten by goblins. Kathryn was instead to the rescue like the strong brave knightly princess that she was and broached the topic in a very diplomatic martial way, that the tiefling took note of for future reference. Yes that was a good way to do it!

‘Ohh heroes!’ Kosara exclaimed in her head in glee. She already kind of liked the Constable already! He knew just how to make her feel happy. Yes they had to strive to be like the heroes of old and story! And then he started going on what sounded kind of like a veiled rant of some sort or another how they had to follow rules and that maybe he knew they were hired for specific purpose, but she wasn’t quite sure if he knew KNEW or he just suspected knew. Or if he thought he knew what they were here for, but he was actually thinking of something else entirely. Yes, Kosara’s head was kind of trying to juggle complex logic and conspiracy theories worthy of a fairy tale. Thinking about it wasn’t there always a person of power involved in stories…? He eyes followed the departing man. The pale tiefling now was thinking and pondering if they had truly a conspiracy in the make!

Then the local girl affected by emotions pulled a hug on V. Kosara well approved of that action, especially given the situation and she was even more happy that V seemed alright with it. While the older woman was offering them some help with at least having a place to sleep or introduction to a local tavern, she also had a request. Kosara used the chance to slowly move over to the girl and V before giving Lizbeth a hug too.” It’s alright to cry.” She told the girl.” It’s going to be alright though, hugs help.”

“I’m all for helping too!” She piped up when Marita stated her desire to help the family.” Though we’ve recovered some of the wine, the goblins had drank some of it. Would that be a big problem?” She informed the older woman. It was their wine it seemed, so they had the right to know. The pale tiefling didn’t know the financial situation of the family. That wine could have been their lifeline! A lost or damaged shipment could be bad and in this case there was going to be wine missing.

The Constable obviously had some less than positive feelings towards the party. This was fairly obvious to anyone with ears and two brain cells to rub together. Hugh’s poker face remained placid in the face of several less than subtly and mockingly emphasized words, but he made the executive decision to keep his mouth shut. After all, it was impossible to say if the disdain leveled against them was legitimate or mere prejudice. “Adventurers” could often bring as much harm as good where they went, so Hugh could hardly blame the man for caution.

On the other hand, the man’s instructions regarding “noninterference” were the sort to be actively detrimental to the team’s mission. Whether such suggestions -or rather, orders- were made in good faith with a touch of incompetence… or out of malice, Hugh could not say at this stage, and he rather hoped to not find himself to be proven correct in the latter case. The investigation was already hard enough without active malicious interference from a corrupt official involved.

What was clear, however, at the end of the day, was that they would all have to act with much more discretion than initially thought. For the time being, the best course of action was to silently feign acceptance, allowing the oaf to believe they accepted his so-called terms. Marita seemed to be of a similar mind, given her own holding of her tongue.

Hugh leaned against the cart, listening silently, as Kathryn said her piece and Victoria stroked the Constable’s ego sufficiently to apparently divert some portion of his attention and ire from the group. It seemed the latter’s social manipulation skills were continuing to show their chops, and Hugh could only begrudgingly nod in approval. It seemed, for better or worse, that the Bard was quite capable in the valuable realm of subtly, despite her loud exterior. Only time would tell if she’d continue to utilize such skill when and where it was appropriate.

As the Constable made his leave, and one of the civilians approached, Hugh hummed amiably at the offer of -possibly less than exceptional- lodgings and Marita’s acceptance of them. Having inroads to whoever this L’Rose family was could likely only pay off well. After all, according to this lady, they owned a vineyard, and there was typically very good money in wine and the associated businesses. And money typically came with connections and surprisingly high and low places, which would be greatly to their advantage. “I see no reason why not,” Hugh responded amiably. “And don’t worry overmuch about the quality of the lodgings, so long as they aren’t overpriced or particularly detestable, they should be agreeable.” And as a bonus, if the lodgings weren't particularly popular, that might help the group stay beneath the possibly corrupt law’s notice.

However… there was one thing bothering Hugh, and given they seemed to be in a good position to ask bluntly, given the Constable and his subordinates were no longer within earshot.

“Have Adventurers or otherwise armed hires caused some notable trouble here in the past?” Hugh asked Cicily. “The Constable seems to have taken personal umbrage with our existence, despite our having committed no crime, and I’d rather hope he’s not the sort of fool to shoot himself in the foot for something as pathetic as pride or prejudice.” Folding his arms around the upper length of his still planted staff, he frowned. “The law has limits, and as much as I’m willing to cooperate with it, we can hardly work with someone who can’t be objective or flexible when the time warrants.” Snorting, he added, “And our work aside, I would like to hope that we’d receive the same fair treatment as any other law-abiding citizen on the daily.”

Shaking his head, he clarified, “I suppose what I’m really asking is what kind of person he is. I’m new to the area, and that was one of the least friendly -and vaguely threatening- greetings to a locale I’ve yet experienced.” Granted, that was because he was on his own most of the time and, thus, rather too inconspicuous to be pegged for the likes of an Adventurer, but the point stood.

Things went fair enough with the Constable. Victoria held the bulk of his attention, but the man seemed to hold little care for dealing with their suspected casualty. Victoria soon went on to talk to the grieving family who Kathryn had tried to put on hold so she could finish things up officially as quick as possible. That likely would work out much better in their favor, Victoria seemed to have a thing for the younger kids which was nice. Kathryn watched as Victoria as Lizbeth hugged each other and apart of her wanted that too, a nice friendly hug. Though she had gotten over most of her issues, she still struggled with a lot. Trust within her personal space was among those issues. Most who entered her personal space were those she had full intentions to flatten. She supposed there was the exception of Kosara who had felt up her arm the day before?

The Constable himself seemed to care little for the party's actions other then to make sure they stayed within his own pre determined lines. He showed no interest in the deceased, leaving Kathryn and the party to explain the problems to the family themselves. The man seemed to be very territorial about his power. What's his is his, and no one else's. It rubbed off on Kathryn, but in a peaceful area she didn't see the harm. But between actual goblins being present, and the issues with the people going missing, something seemed off. These were not peaceful times, no matter how quiet they seemed to be.

Cecily had offered the party a place to stay. Securing a place to stay would be a great start so that no matter how the day went they would at the very least know where they could put their heads down for the night. "I don't think any of us are too picky on where we sleep tonight. If you're offering we will be extremely grateful for anything." Kathryn felt a bit guilty from taking from this woman after she had lost who she presumed was her father, but they needed the means to get their week sorted out. And the first night sorted out helped a ton. There were professional questions asked by Hugh who wanted to likely clear up some of the weird disdain that constable had for the party, and Kathryn figured it was as good a time as any that she could try to do something for the deceased. Kathryn handed the buttons to Cecily opting that to be better then having to show her the charred remains. "I'm sorry we couldn't help sooner. But if there's anything we can do to help we will do whatever we can." She appeared to need help with her own things as well, so why not? It may give the party a chance to ask around, and maybe Cecily and Lizbeth know something about their mission? Speaking of Lizbeth, she noticed Kosara in that group hug now. It was good to know the young one was being comforted in all of this.

One of the talents which Victoria prided herself upon was maintaining objectivity and radiating approachable grace in the face of strong emotions. Most of the time. What stood now was not too dissimilar from the mixed feelings at a funeral. Except for the Constable, who she decided that she wasn't overly a fan of. He was just difficult in general. At least he was gone now. But to the others who were still around, Cecily and Lizbeth L'Rose, she could try to develop the rapport which they had begun a few moments earlier.

In her estimation, people suffering a loss wished to try to maintain normalcy as best they could until emotional weight dictated otherwise. No master of philosophy was she; merely a woman who had observed a lot of grief in her history. Cecily seemed like the type to press onward, so Victoria wasn't about to change that. In fact, she rather counted on this. "When it's time, would you like to take your reins back, Mrs. L'Rose?" she inquired softly, hoping that this might give her a better sense of control over a situation that had spiraled wildly out of that control for her. Of course, all of her supposition and ideas about the human condition could seriously backfire. Being attacked and having their livelihood's efforts stolen could have registered as a more pressing trauma than the death in the family, and this would sully her approach. But things seemed to work themselves out. They were offering to help as they could.

Given the choice between an Inn and an hayloft, Victoria would definitely choose an Inn. Now, there was a notation that went along with this as not every Inn room was created equal. In her hometown, Victoria was perfectly well set up with a suite, service and upkeep to her clothing and other belongings, fine meals, etc., though that was a long way away. So long as she maintained a modicum of privacy and the beds weren't infested with something awful, it would be just fine.

The others asked their questions. While bombarding the poor lady and her niece with inquiry wasn't the most polite thing ever, Victoria had to admit that some of them were worthwhile from the perspective of someone more local. That, and they unanimously decided to give them more help, thusly providing some time that they might be provided those answers. It was the right call, she thought. But again, what she did not know about this place and its people filled volumes of written work.

Of course, Kosara hugged people. It was what she did. No sense begrudging her for it.

Quietly, Victoria shuffled back to the wagons and began to get her things together. It looked like they were not going to have the second one within which one might split gear. Getting Morty moved quietly posed a challenge, as Victoria would soon find out.

A series of questions poured from the oddest mercenary group and/or semi-standard adventuring party, the target of which was the somewhat more mature Cecily L'Rose. Fresh details of exhaustion seemed to form across her face. It was like a huge piece of stress had left her body and it was beginning to let her relax, involuntarily if need be. Still she bolstered herself and set to the questions in order that were addressed. "Oh! Yes of course. I need to get this wine to the people who ordered it. The one..." Her voice trailed off as she looked into the back of the wagon, doing a quick check to confirm what Kosara had said about the Goblins getting one of the casks. "We will just have to make some arrangements." A heavy sigh escaped Cecily before she continued addressing the inquiries set before her. Meanwhile, Lizbeth accepted the hug from Kosara, leaning in and inadvertently wiping her eyes on her new coat.

"Yes, so what I was saying earlier; I have an Innkeeper friend right near to here. It's a humble establishment, so he doesn't usually order the top quality stuff from Rose River. He did this time..." Cecily's words trailed, then came back to stronger cadence, "I do worry. One of his barmaids, a young woman named Audrey, went missing recently."

Inquiries about adventurers making trouble actually gave the lady a sort of nervous giggle. "Oh, that came close to being local legend, even if I don't know exactly what happened." The smile remained as she related, "A ways back, the boy from the Rentman Farm (Halflings, good folk too) went away with a bald, grey Gnome over to Fairwater - that's west of here - at their Constable's request to look into something. They got in cahoots with a carnival and routed out some thieves or bandits, or something. If you ask me, that Gnome was a bad influence... Anyway, Cavendish wasn't really happy, but the problem got fixed and he seemed to be okay with it after a while." She took another thoughtful pause, "But Cavendish lately seems to have gotten plain irritable. At everything. I don't think it's because of the Rentman boy and that Gnome, but he would've made me plenty angry. The um, the Gnome, I mean. Met him one time. It was enough." She shuddered once and got back to her point. "Anyway, I wouldn't take it personal with the Constable. It seems everything's just beneath him lately."

Cecily looked to Victoria and politely said, "Yes, yes I would. Thank you," concerning the use of the reins. Getting back into the wagon she was forced to abandon and completing her task was just what she wanted to do. Then somehow seeing to the interment of what remains remained. "And thank you for letting Lizbeth and I know what happened with some sensitivity and class. I know it could have been handled differently."

With everyone in agreement to help, Cecily gave a warm but tired, "Thank you all so much for this," and climbed up to the driver's seat on the merchant wagon. She took up the reins and checked to make sure everything was attached properly. Satisfied, she said, "The deliveries are late right now. The customers know why and I'm sure that they will understand, but they are likely to still be a little upset at the inconvenience. If you would please? The um, ...remains... if they could be moved to the other wagon until after the wine is delivered?"

Lizbeth moved up to occupy the seat next to her aunt, leaning against her with a more sorrowful and resigned expression. As the group readied in whichever way they wished to do so, Cecily outlined where that needed to go throughout the Township. "Two of them were supposed to go to the Municipal Building, north end past the The Fountain. A wall surrounds it all; we're just supposed to leave them by the gate. One goes to that Inn I was talking about, Neil & Bob's Public House. Another goes to the Farmer's Market, right over that way, then one other to the Trade Market next to the river, on this side. And last..." Cecily's face tightened with what might have been embarrassment at the mention of this remaining establishment, "Three of them to Madame Marcie's _{...Honey Barn...} just across the river inside the Township, proper."

Counting up the number of containers versus the amount promised to the different places in town, you appear to be one short. "If it's all the same to you, I have to work something out with whomever gets slighted. Please, you pick who misses a barrel."

With the south road now opened, one can more clearly see the increased foot traffic in the town. While not a bustling seaport, Avonshire Township is an important hub for the region, and it is a festival time. Businesses are doing brisk business, people from outlying areas of the region are here for celebration, and of course, with this being the festival of the harvest, farmers, animal handlers, and craftsmen bring in their wares to be observed, even entered into contests. (Biggest Potato In Avonshire, three years running! Huzzah!) The general attitude in the township is pleasant. Hopeful, even. Though the occasional slip into something more worrisome can be seen every so often. Rare but persistent, like the collective subconscious of the area advised caution amid the frolicking and festivities.

Well it was nice that their task was something that wouldn't detract from their mission. If anything, being able to tour the town and see how things were would only help hasten their ability to pick out where to investigate. However, it was somewhat surprising that everyone agreed to it without any sort of bickering. Kosara and Kathryn she expected to go along with helping people. Victoria seemed to have made some sort of emotional connection with Lizbeth, but she could see her not wanting to automatically agree to some unknown task before hearing it out. Hugh she expected to protest due to the time limit they had on their investigation (the more she thought about it, the more she was vexed at how pressed by the time crunch they were when it probably wouldn't have even existed had Hugh not asked about it in the first place). But everyone was on the same page so she'd take the unity in stride while she could.

The real question was who should get shorted wine that was consumed by the goblins. Firstly she didn't want to completely deny anyone wine, it simply was too unfair to couple a delayed delivery with an absence of product. That narrowed down the choices to the Municipal Building and Honey Barn. From Cecily's tone and the name it wasn't difficult to intuit what the establishment was. Personally she found such places quite tasteless, and shortchanging them a barrel would be the smallest loss proportional to what they had ordered. However, they likely needed it more than anyone else. The business likely made most of its profit from drink sales, and a festival like this was probably peak season. Meanwhile, while she didn't enjoy the prospect of earning more ire from the local government, chances were that they merely were to use their wine for parties.

"I think it would be the most fair to choose the Municipal Building." It would hurt them personally the most, but would be better off for the greatest number of people. She didn't explain her whole line of reasoning like she tended to for her previous decisions, but she would if prompted to by someone else. Unlike most decisions before now, she would rather have the decision be made quickly so she was somewhat open to changing the vote so they didn't get bogged down trying to choose.

“There, there. Hugs help indeed!” Kosara smiled as the girl had accepted the hug and made herself comfortable! Hugs were the best and it didn’t matter a few tears were wiped into her new coat. In fact it was a bonus feature… probably! From there curious news were delivered from the older woman, including the missing people report and the local legend of the constable that was today quite annoyed about something or other. As they progressed to prepare for the next trek of their journey which was to deliver the wine to the needed places and as the remains were moved over to their wagon, the tiefling quickly took her position on their own wagon. Apparently the agreement was to help the family and to do so they had to follow! Escort duty like proper heroes of good.

Now the only issue was where to give less alcohol, though Kosara’s opinion quickly made itself known. In fact almost instantly as soon as the question was posed, having been bested by speed only by Marita.” The munacipirial… mani...muri...” She halted herself, trying to recall the exact word. It wasn’t in her usual vocabulary actually and she had no idea what IT was. It didn’t sound too important though.” Ahh municipal that was it, yeah I saw we leave less there. The other places need the alcohol more. Especially the last one… Honey Barn? Sounds like a place that uses a lot of alcohol. And if I’m getting my logic right, it’s a very important thing to have alcohol there, if they do what I think they do.” She quipped her copper coin into the pool to see what everybody decides to do. On that note, she wondered what her sisters back home were doing nowdays. Here it was cold, but at the oasis it was hot all time of the year. Were they busy? Were supplies delivered in time? She sometimes felt lonely out here, not much, but a little bit and felt the nostalgia and longing of home. Especially now that they were going to visit a brothel! Granted she didn’t live in a brothel, but she supposed it might as well have been. She wondered if this one was well versed in information too.

As they eventually began moving, Kosara pondered the way from now on. They were in town now, there was investigation and she could ask around at the Honey Barn. They probably knew a lot of local gossip information if they were wanting to share. It was a good chance. Journeying across town and following the other wagon turned out to be a bit of an experience and learning trip actually. Having just today learned the ancient venerated art of driving a wagon, Kosara was doing so with admirable skill for a first timer… especially first time let to drive a wagon in a busy streets and town, but she wasn’t thinking about that. In fact she was busy trying to navigate the streets as people were moving about, some not minding they were trying to cross in front of a moving wagon! At one point she even had to make a sudden stop when another horse drawn wagon appeared from a side street and crossed her path without warning! The nerve! At least all in all the mule was behaving well and as a whole she was keeping up with Cecily’s wagon. That is until the mule decided to turn to one side of the role and moved there, pulling the wagon with it.

“Hey, stop, Mr Mule!” The tiefling called as it most unceremoniously moved in front of a wagon filled with cabbages!” Noooo, leave those cabbages alone! I will figure how to make you into a walking emergency food and food storage otherwise!” Kosara quickly pulled the reigns of it, making the animal’s head move left and right as it stubbornly wanted them cabbages. This continued for a little while until with enough pulling to one side and calling the command to start moving again and snapping at the reigns the mule finally let the cart of cabbages alone and as Kosara passed by the owner, she could swear she heard him saying something along the lines of ‘Phew, saved… it usually never works. Thank the gods.’ Poor man! To have his cart of cabbages always assaulted by mules for him to comment like this!

In any case, at least after that experience, the mule didn’t start any rebellious activities again. Though Kosara very nearly got separated by the other wagon again when a some sheep that were being led somewhere were blocking most of the street, but with some adept handling and care she carefully drove the wagon around them, skirting the edge of the street, but making sure not to push into anybody. It was honestly stressful journey, educational and really, REALLY made her to want to do some driving on the endless desert sands… or maybe just a flat area without people and obstacles to see exactly how fast this could go. All in all? It was a nice experience despite the cabbages debacle.

Hugh hummed thoughtfully at the mostly anecdotal answer his inquiry received. The fact that it was ostensibly nearly labeled a “local legend” implied that it had happened rather too long ago to be relevant to the mission in the here and now… beyond how it might have shaped the Constable’s sensibilities. It was… somewhat reassuring to hear that the Constable’s attitude was likely more from stress than anything else, but it didn’t dispel the weird sense of possessive arrogance that hung around the man. That might need some further looking into.

Another thing she said almost offhandedly sharply caught his attention, however. It was a golden opportunity to naturally get involved with something related to their true goal! “This ‘Audrey’ went missing, you say? Whenabouts did this occur?” Placing one hand on his chin, Hugh’s brows furrowed in apparent thought. “I’m something of a bounty hunter you see. That’s my specific occupation, and going on these sort of group missions is a bit of an unusual thing for me. That said… a steady and measured investigation and search is more my speed than pitched combat. The Sheriff may have hired us to handle stuff like the goblins, but I’m willing to look into the Audrey matter when it wouldn’t take time away from our tasks. And, altruism aside, on a personal level?” He grinned wryly. “It might be something. It might be nothing. But I do enjoy indulging in a good mystery every now and again.”

At Cicily’s prompting, Hugh nodded and went about moving the depressingly sparse remains into the party’s loaned wagon. The smell was… Well, it wasn’t much better than when they’d first found them, but it was at least something the ki cultivator was long since desensitized to by this point.

Sicily elaborated upon the circumstances of the wine delivery they’d managed to get themselves wrapped up in, and Hugh nodded and frowned along where appropriate. It seemed they would be forced to slight someone at the end of things. While Cicily said the customers had already been made aware of the dely in the delivery’s arrival, they surely would not be aware that one amongst them was going to be shortchanged.

Cupping his chin with one hand, Hugh hummed aloud, before saying his piece. “The municipality building is a hub of government activity,” he emphasized for the Tielfing’s benefit, before addressing the majority. “Given that we’re already on the law’s bad side without even doing anything yet, I’d say it’s most reasonable to avoid slighting the government the most. For various other reasons, I’d say the two best parties to receive less wine would be either the farmer’s market or this… Honey Barn.” If that was what it sounded like (and the current temporary client and Tielfing’s reactions were telling), he wouldn’t shed any tears over a loss of information efficiency. There were plenty of other places to investigate. “That said, I feel we should consult our temp client on the matter.”

Turning his words towards Cicily specifically, he continued, “You said you were already prepared to work something out with whomever gets slighted? Correct me if I’m wrong, but the places that would be the least issue for you to make a deal with would, in fact, be either the farmer’s market or the Honey Barn? I’m no local, but the fact that you deal in wine and operate a vineyard leads me to these conclusions, and those sound like the places that would be the most flexible and understanding on a surface level, the places least likely to inconvenience you until you can compensate them. The only reason I don’t include the Inn on that list is, well…” He shrugged. “Admittedly, it’s simply that we’re likely to be spending our nights there for the foreseeable future, and I’d rather not slight the place I intend to rest -if you’ll excuse my self-interest.”

The little side task then proceeded apace and went surprisingly well, even with the inexperienced Tiefling at the helm of the mule, which briefly sought to ruin some poor cabbage farmer’s day. Luckily, the Tiefling managed to regain control, and aside from that incident, they traversed the city streets without trouble.

The party agreed to help the poor woman. Though the party did have a bit to gain from helping her, Kathryn would have wanted too even without the offering of a place to stay. The woman had lost family, and her livelihood was endangered due to the events taken place. Had the party not arrived her situation may become a bit more precarious. Meeting Cecily did prove rather helpful as the woman not only knew of a missing persons, but now had a reason to assist the party in return. Meaning hopefully little interference from their constable friend. She seemed thankful for Kathryn's subtle attempt to explain the situation. Another area that wasn't her strong suit, but she tried to make up for it by staying on the side of compassion. What did turn out to be an issue was that there was now not enough wine to go around, and it was up to the party to decide who got short changed. Kathryn heard the places and thinking about it, she really didn't want to short change anyone, but it was unavoidable. Preferably picking somewhere that was getting more then one barrel would be preferable. There was the government building, and... "Honey Barn?" Kathryn spoke with a questioning tone, before it registered to her that they were talking about a brothel. "....oh...." Kathryn was more then familiar with them. When she was really young Kathryn would be left at a couple while Ser Lucas picked up work where he couldn't bring Kathryn along. At the time though she didn't realize it was a brothel, but it wasn't hard to figure out as the years went on.

There seemed to be a pretty strong sentiment to stiff the municipal building held by Kosara and Marita. Hugh seemed to favor short changing the Farmer's market. Kosara put up a decent argument for the government building, and Hugh gave a decent reasoning for the farmers market. with the Honey Barn being the runner up. Though they all had points, leaving any party with nothing seemed wrong, leaving either the municipal building or the brothel in Kathryn's mind. Hugh had a solid point on already getting on the nerves of the local authorities, and while trying to be discrete about their true mission that could be problematic. "I see the logic on cutting back for the municipal building, but Hugh brings up a good point. We're already at odds with the Constable. And having more obstacles with local authorities would only make it worse. But I think leaving none for any one group could only hurt us. A group getting totally cut off is more likely to be uncooperative then a group that loses only a portion of what they were supposed to get. With the Honey Barn getting three barrels they seem like they can take the hit better then the other groups. And something tells me that the patrons main goals are not to do with the wine they are drinking." Though she imagined the municipal staff could deal with it better, she figured the patrons of the Honey Barn could do with either another brand or something else to drink for the time being. Maybe they could try to get an additional shipment in sooner then planned to make up for it? "Unless there's context we're missing and the other groups are either able to take the bit better or will be easier to smooth things over with." If she knew more about the local groups it may make it easier to decide. But numbers alone, the brothel seemed like it could take the hit the best. She was open to changing her outlook though if Cecile had any additional information to include. Or if it turned out one of the groups were more openly hostile then the others, she figured she could support cutting them short if need be.

There was various conversations going on that Kathryn pondered while walking along side the wagons. Though she enjoyed riding, she was in town now and would rather be able to move and react quickly if need be. She picked up a commotion from Kosara while walking and looked over just in time to see the wagon making a sharp turn. "Oh shit!" Kathryn jumped a bit only realizing afterwards she wasn't in any real danger of being hit. It appeared another wagon had cut them off, and now the mule was distracted on a cabbage wagon. Kosara got the situation under control quick enough. As the wagon passed the cabbage cart Kathryn was quick to follow quickly saying "Sorry 'bout that!" Kathryn rushed by with a bit of embarrassment as she hurried to catch back up. As the tall woman did so she contemplated about their wine problem. Though context of the locals would help, at the end of the day it was a numbers issue for Kathryn. Maybe one of the groups had some of the wine still in stock? So they may be able to take the hit a bit better? That could change things. Or if one of the groups was outwardly abrasive and aggressive. Or just outright unpleasant people to tolerate. She could justify it in that case too. But she lacked the knowledge sadly. Hugh did ask for some clarification, so maybe she'd change her mind then.

It seemed that no one was jumping to take care of the canvas-wrapped bones of sitting in the back of the wine wagon. Victoria assumed that this might have been a priority, but this was not so. Then she gave it a further consideration and realized that she was the one who tended to the remains in the first place and it was likely assumed to be her sole responsibility. Hells, it might actually be her responsibility, given that she was the only one in the party with any actual experience in funerary practices. Okay, and Necromancy. There was some overlap in practical skills there, like a macabre Venn diagram. So, with a practiced smile and a touch more pep than she truly felt in that second, Victoria sauntered to the back of the wagon to procure the canvas bundle which held (most of) the bones of little Lizbeth's grandfather. There was a decided amount of unvocalized surprise when she saw that Hugh had beaten her to it. Victoria cocked her head to the side with a smirk and made her way to the back of the wagon anyway, as there was another piece of business which required her attention anyway.

For the sake of propriety, or some other social concept which shared similar qualities to it, Victoria lay a hand on the now unmoving, burlap-wrapped porcine beast back there as well, cheerfully declaring, "Rise and shine, Morty! Our day has yet to be over!" The mindlessly loyal pig clumsily shuffled to its hooves and followed immediately behind the orchid garbed bard. There were some casual looks of confusion from passersby. So far, no torches or pitchforks. Or any indication that they held anything but guarded curiosity for the seemingly mummified, painfully gaunt creature.

Discussion concerning the people and/or establishment to be shorted thanks to the Goblin's thirsts piqued Victoria's interest for about seven minutes, after which time she mentally checked out and began to take in the scenery around them. It wasn't too amazingly cold right then, and people were all milling about in what appeared to be good spirits. Most of them, anyway. She enjoyed trying to figure things out about people in new places, even if she wasn't particularly good at it. Victoria could at least match the energy of the people around her, and for a lot of these people, it was the busied hum of a population just prior to a celebration. This aside, not knowing these clients of the L'Rose family and having no stake in the actual delivery (aside from ingratiating the party to Cecily and Lizbeth), she abstained from the vote.

Victoria took great pleasure in the impromptu tour of the Township which came along with the seemingly erratic delivery route, dropping off the huge casks of wine at their respective locations. While not extremely efficient a path, it did serve to get a fairly decent lay of the land. Not the details, mind you, but a good, rough idea of where things might be located.

In fact, the only thing that put a strained mark on their delivery service was the inexpert driving of Kosara, which Victoria really could not blame her for. Driving in a populated area with close conditions was more difficult than following someone on an open road, doubly so when one had to deal with a lot of other people and animals on the streets. Victoria gave support and encouragement where she felt it was necessary, and in fact it looked like the cheery Tiefling was getting better at it. Except for one tiiiiny issue with the mule reacting a little too positively with a cabbage seller. She moved to hop into the wagon and take over, lest more damage was done, but Kosara did well enough to get things back on track. Victoria added her own voice of apology to the man whose vegetables were purloined by the beast of burden, pressing a couple of coins into his hand, "For your trouble, of course."

It took Victoria a moment to realize that the novice teamster made a threat against the mule to turn it into something very much what she had done to Morty, her constant, woodsmoked companion and bodyguard. She raised her finger as if to say something, mouth already open with tips and pointers if she indeed had the idea to make her own version of Morty, but held herself back. This was not the time nor the place to divulge secrets of the hedge Necromancer's trade.

As much fun as this was, it did take Victoria a little bit to fully grasp the unspoken words that might have described what a "Honey Barn" was and why a lady named "Madame Marcie" would have one. Never to be called naive about such things, what threw her off was the use of the word Barn in all of this. Thematic, somehow? Or were these people more stereotypically rural than one might have been led to believe? Either way, this had been an interesting experience so far, and she was going to find out. Perhaps a little music along the way would add to the occasion.

Before the group set out on its whirlwind small town adventure in fine alcohol distribution, Cecily was kind enough to address the questions put before her and Lizbeth, one at a time. "Audrey, as best I can tell, went missing a couple of weeks ago. I couldn't say exactly. I didn't find out until later. About the wine... I didn't say that I was prepared to work something out. I said that I will have to work something out. I don't know how to fix it immediately. We had to leave in a hurry to get here, so..." She trailed off, shaking her head worriedly. "Until I get back to Rose River, my resources are limited."

The horror of The Great Cabbage Mule-ing of Avonshire mixed between the delivery stops notwithstanding, the two wagons made their way to various points around the now active Township. various banners and decorations can be seen in and around the structures and clear, open spaces in town, featuring colorful gourds, sheaves of threshed grain, cornucopias, and various other reminders of the Grand Autumn Harvest. Everywhere, scents of yummy foods wafted from windows and street stalls. Storefront signs advertised sales for ales and foodstuffs. Merchant wagons shared the streets with farmers' wagons, bearing the fruits of the earth as well as the products which could be crafted from them, all in abundance which could only be witnessed and celebrated properly in a proud agricultural region like that of Avonshire.

The first stop took the party through the center of the Township; a wide, open place where fitted stone lay smooth beneath feet and wheel alike, right in the middle of a park-like area which gave the town's center a feeling of being separate from the rest of the settlement. A large fountain sat in its center, seemingly rising as a part of the stone below, steadily streaming cold, clear water skyward only to tumble back down into a pool, around which was a flurry of activity. Musicians played jaunty tunes, townsfolk and visitors danced merrily, artists drew and painted for the masses, and a few food vendors sold easy, hot, portable treats at low prices.

Just beyond this scene to the north, past a short length of street, is a high wall with solid wooden doors, a closed iron gate hanging in front of those. Two guards stand on either side, spears at the ready. Beyond this wall, one can see the tops of what must be the largest buildings in the township; not out of place in a larger city but enough to stand out here. As the wagons approach, the guards do not move to open the gate. They do not ask questions, do not offer to assist unloading, and seem to be expecting them. This aside, everything goes without incident.



Neil & Bob's Public House is back toward the southern section of town, in the quadrant across from the great mass of canvas structures that houses, among other things, the Farmer's Market. The Pub itself is modest in nature and a bit dark of interior but clean. Only one barmaid appears to be present, and she is being run around quite a bit. The bartender himself introduces himself as Robert, the proprietor of the establishment, and bids you to make the delivery around the back. There is a notable amount of foot traffic going through here, most of the tables being full and every seat at the bar occupied. The barmaid is not especially happy at being shorthanded, but tries to stay in good spirits.

Little Lizbeth stayed back with the wagon, not wanting to come inside of this place. Cecily spoke with the proprietor while the barrel was being offloaded; his response was clear and load enough that everyone present could hear. "No, I got no private rooms available, Mrs. L'Rose. Your new friends want to stay here, there are beds in the common room open. Festival on, and such." Robert had a faux-accommodating smile on his face. "That reminds me, where're you staying tonight?"

Cecily returned to the wagon with the news, though her delivery was a little nicer. "Look here," she says finally, motioning to to hayloft almost diagonally across from the Public House, "It's not to your caliber, certainly, but my family does keep a loft right here. Closed up for the celebrations. If nothing else, it's quiet, keeps nothing but hay and some tools inside. Light a lamp up there, it's real cosy. You're welcome to use it."



The Farmers' Market is a bustling place, the area taking up a full quarter of the Township's space inside of its walls. People here look to be of rural origin. There aren't streets in this quarter, persay, more than there are open spaces around which tents and simple wooden structures are assembled around. Most everyone here seems to know each other, Human and Halfling alike, and it has the overall atmosphere of a county fair. Stalls sell farm fresh produce and earthen jars of yummy things like fruit preserves, honey, etc. A large wooden stage is constructed nearby, upon which now a Very Important Looking Gentleman with a loud voice and rotund physique proclaiming the start of the Hog Broiling Competition in just one scant hour. Off to one side is a series of tents that appear to be residential, if only temporary. In the midst of this is a stone circle which holds in a fire pit. Wood is stacked and ready to go for the evening. Pipes are being smoked here, fresh fruits eaten, and much making of merry is to be had.

The Very Important Looking Gentleman made his way over to the cart and wasted no time in being garrulous. Even obnoxious. Either way, he was excited. "Oh good! The wine is here! Hey everybody! Wine! HA!" He ran over to help Cecily and Lizbeth out of the wagon, giving an acknowledging smile in the directions of the party. "Good! It can't be a talent show unless there's a prize at the end of it, right? You bet your last potato I'm right!" He nodded vigorously, jowls wiggling in protest of the jolly Human's animated nature. "Oh! Just set it down over there, please! And thank you so much."



To the northeast section of the town lay a series of buildings that looked a lot like offloading warehouses with business space attached. This was the Traders' Market. Whereas the the Farmers' Market brought in all of the goods of the land around it, mostly agricultural, and many of the local tradefolk that depended upon them as clients, this place dealt with all of the out-of-town goods that had to be shipped in from elsewheres farther off, manufactured goods, etc., and anything coming down from the river to the north. Said river cut cleanly through this section of town, bearing personal and cargo boats, most of which stopped to offload goods here. This delivery took a little longer than most, as Cecily was not sure exactly where it was going. The customer was a The Avonshire Merchant Association, and it took a little doing to locate a representative who was not neck deep in business of some sort. This was not the fast paced, deal-or-die type of mercantile or trading location that might occur in larger port cities, but it was respectable enough and doubly so as they appeared shorthanded, likely because of the Festival.

Finally locating someone official enough to take possession of the barrel, very near to the east/west road through town, this older Halfling handed a gold coin over to Cecily. He kept staring across the main thoroughfare toward a quaint, well built storefront. The sign proudly had painted across it, "Jacques Mallard, Silversmith". Two things were notable about this building. The first was that it appeared to be closed, while the other businesses around it were taking advantage of the hustle in the Township; the second being that the windows were boarded up from the inside.



The final delivery, and the one which would have been the largest, went to Madame Marcie's Honey Barn. This one took them over the river toward the easternmost part of town. Like an open secret, this place stood as a testament to the fact that in Human society you might not find a particular type of skilled craftsman, but chances were that you would find shining, glorious Vice if you asked around.

If ever there was a spot that did not seem to fit into the rest of the Township, it was this place. True to its name, the outside of the building looked very much like a large livestock barn, or maybe stabling, except that elegant windows were constructed into it at regular intervals and the large, gaping aperture that might have been at its front (were it a regular barn) was instead an inviting looking landing and a set of double doors, quite possibly carved of rich mahogany. It looked very well maintained and with a fresh coat of paint. If this ever was actually a barn, it had been heavily modified past its original purpose. From inside, music could be perceived from some sort of keyboard instrument. It was not busy yet, but by the way people moved in front of it, they were expecting one hell of a night.

A young lady took notice of the wagon pulling up and excitedly ran back inside. Mere moments later a peculiar sort of woman exited the front doors. For all purposes, she had the features of a Halfling of indeterminate years with heavily styled raven black hair and a fondness for purple in her wardrobe. Lace and jewelry made striking appearances, and a fitted corset accented her already hourglass figure. Though her features identified her as one of the Shirefolk, the lady's height was impressive, considering. "Why, Mrs. L'Rose, it is so good of you to tend to our order personally." The accent presented by this woman marked her as a foreigner to these parts, but it was highly muddled and difficult to pin down exactly. "We heard about what happened, and I for one am so sorry to hear of your Father-In-Law's sudden passing. Everything work out well, I trust?" Her voice was equal parts sweet and businesslike. "I see. One third promised is missing. Well, we shall have to come to some sort of an understanding, won't we? I know that you are in a bind and I shan't boorish about it, but a contract is a contract. Even with the likes of me." A knowing smile crept across her face. "Oh, but you have such lovely companionship this day. Introductions?"

The woman strolled over to the party and extended a hand to each of the little troupe, "Charmed. I am Madame Marcie, and this is my Honey Barn. I do hope you all will partake of what festivities within speak to your proclivities. No judgement here, so long as we all play nice."

So it seemed the Honey Barn would have to get cut short. Though it was a shame to do it to anyone they were getting the most, and could most likely take the hit better. On the plus side, maybe they could also use this as a chance to talk to more locals, gain their trust, and learn what they could about the place. While traveling Cecily was able to explain a bit about their missing person. This was so far the best lead the party had as far as she could tell. If they could place this Audrey maybe they could find the others? Maybe it was something simple that could be solved, or maybe it was something more extreme that is greater then anyone here could have imagined? It was hard to say, but they did have a lead. On a positive note, the town was preparing for the harvest celebration. To Kathryn these were the best kinds of events to have with large numbers of people. Lots of food, drinks, music, and overall people having a great time. Passing by some of the delicious smelling foods Kathryn wanted to reach out and toss her coin to each vendor and try a little bit of everything! Her main limitations? She was working and her work needed her undivided attention, and she was on a budget. Should this job finish up quickly, she'd stop by and try some of the local foods.

The party received no help from the local government with their shipment, now was it all to welcoming. She was starting to see why several members of their group had opted towards cutting them short. But such as it was, it went off smoothly enough. Arriving at Niel and Bob's Public house thing's went smoother. Though Kathryn wondered if the place was originally just called Bob's public house, and this Neil had joined in on the business later on by looking at the sign. The place was busy enough with the festival going on, where they were informed that there were no more private rooms left. Kathryn visibly tensed up at the idea of a common sleeping room. Though she was used to a lot of rough conditions, sleeping and trusting that many people while in such a vulnerable state made her uneasy. Then the barn was offered up. "If ya don't mind, the loft sounds rather lovely." She spoke in as much of a humbled voice as she could. Though she would definitely prefer a proper bed of some kind, she would be happy with some separation from the public.

Seeing the smiling and excited faces at the farmers market made Kathryn feel a lot better about not cutting this group of people short. A lot of them were common every day people where every commodity was taken as a wonderful pleasure and a memorable moment. "No problem my good sir." She spoke to the gentleman who seemed to be taking charge of the market. Kathryn assisted in moving the barrel into it's new home before getting ready to depart with the rest of their orders. Though expecting to be raised in royalty she did enjoy many aspects of the adventuring life. She was the boots on the ground helping people when they needed it. Sometimes it was fighting off a band of goblins, and other times it was bringing them some much loved wine. And though expensive wine wasn't Kathryn's preferred drink it brought joy to her seeing how much it excited them.

The trade market was a bit more chaotic, but Kathryn figured it was good to know where this was so that if she ever had the funds to fully upgrade her gear she may be able to find a lot of her non combat needs here. Industrial needs and maybe a musical instrument should she ever commit to that idea. But that would require funds and and time she lacked at the moment. Though it took some time to find the halfing they were to give the wine towards, while that transaction was going Kathryn took note of one of the businesses. Jacques Mallard, Silversmith. She wondered. Jewelry? Or weapons? But looking at the state of the building, it seemed in no condition to offer any services, both kinds held some interest to Kathryn. When Cecile finished up the transaction Kathryn attempted to gain her attention. "Cecile? If you don't mind me asking, what's going on with that place? The Silversmith there?" It made her wonder if maybe the place was robbed recently? Or if there was something else going on with it.

Then was their final delivery, the Honey Bun, the one that had to be cut short due to an ever so mild supply chain issue. The barn looking building which inside housed the brothel, and maybe a chance to help relations with Cecile and Lizbeth, and maybe open the door with Madame Marcie to help out there as well. Plus, lots of information traveled through brothels. If someone was to go missing, this could be a great place to find out about it and discover any other rumors that may be of use. There was clear concern over keeping the contract at hand. And Kathryn wondered if this was the best way to try and get an in for the party? Then came introductions. "My lady." Kathryn gave a short bow before leaning back up to introduce herself to Madame Marcie. "My name is Ser or Lady Kathryn Pyke. Whichever you prefer. And I'd like to open up with how sorry we are about the supply issues, and if any assistance can be provided to help easy these issues created by it to please let us know." Though Kathryn's concern wasn't necessarily helping out the brothel, it was a good in. And helping out Cecile could prove useful as well. It seemed like a good two birds with one stone situation to Kathryn.

Marita hadn't registered it at first, but hearing 'Audrey' multiple times reminded her that the name was familiar to her. It was one of the names on the list that Sheriff Gregory had given her. She would have liked to bring this up, but she was not keen on breaking stealth at the moment, even in the presence of the only two people in this township who they could consider allies at the moment. It wasn't even that she didn't trust them, but letting people know they were there to investigate the disappearances that didn't need to know only invited complications that would make their jobs harder and potentially endanger innocent civilians.

She hadn't gotten around to sharing the contents of the list before now because she wanted to wait until they had a better idea of the situation before hunkering down and trying to map out a plan of attack, but now that they were here a major factor she had failed to take into consideration had made itself evident: privacy. There were people everywhere all the time which made things quite difficult when you want to maintain any form of secrecy. The only ability anyone in this party had that appeared to be able to facilitate private was Hugh's field of silence, but that didn't seem to be something he could utilize consistently throughout the day. These were the thoughts and worries she carried out in the back of her head as they traveled throughout the township delivering wine. As the secondary muscle of the party, she primarily helped Kathryn unload the very heavy product off the wagon. Actually handling the casks drove home just how ridiculously strong Kathryn was. By herself, Marita would have barely been able to push one around, let alone pick one up off the ground.

When Cecily again brought up the prospect of the haylift, she couldn't help but sigh. She really, really, really didn't want to stay in some dirty storage room that no doubt reeked of barn animals and manure, and in any other situation would have taken staying in the commons of an inn in a heartbeat, there was one invaluable advantage the hayloft carried over anywhere else they could find a place to stay: almost guaranteed privacy for discussion. Perhaps even a place to safely lay low should the circumstances call for it.

"Very well. Thank you for housing us during our stay here." Marita's tone of voice made it obvious that she was trying to hide her displeasure with the turn of events.

When it came to the Merchant's Market, Marita took some time off of helping Kathryn to help Cecily locate where the client actually was. She went separately to help cover ground and found everyone she spoke to exceptionally unhelpful. Most ignored her, more than a few told her off, and one guy told her he'd give her the information she was looking for if she paid him 5 gold. In the end she didn't find the Merchant Association representative, but she did stumble across the boarded up building and made a mental note to perhaps check it out later.

"Marita Bärbel." The cleric shook the halfling's hand, but didn't bother speaking anymore than what she had already. She had spent enough time in cities to know how powerful people of Madam Marcie's profession could be, and how treacherous they could be as well. As true as it was that they didn't want to piss off the government needlessly, part of her wondered if inadvertently ending up in debt to the likes of her, even indirectly would be an even more disadvantageous position. That aside, she had no desire to go into that establishment, and she'd be surprised if Madam Marcie hadn't picked up on that just by looking a her. The cleric just hoped that circumstance wouldn't force her to go into the Honey Barn out of necessity, but an ominous spectre told her not to get her hopes up.

The journey through town passed quickly and without much time to let one’s mind wander loose. Kosara had to admit she learned a lot of how to drive a mule drawn carriage. A very important skill to have, she realized. A wagon was invaluable tool to have at your disposal. All the gear and supply storage on the road! She saw a few on the roads that had more wooden walls and even roof and realized that it could be a home on the road too! Eve a canvas covered one could serve as a nice tent replacement and you didn’t even have to sleep on the ground! Admittedly she liked sleeping on the soft earth with nary but her blankets and bedrolls, however there were times when the only available surface was rocks… and then there was this rain thing that was much more issue here in the north and outside the deserts.

When it came to the options of accommodations, she was pondering the options of the common room of an inn and this hayloft. Kathryn expressed interest in the hayloft and Kosara wasn’t far behind to quip and chip in also.” I’m interested too! Never seen a hayloft before!” She called joyfully, wondering what the experience of sleeping in one would be.

From there on the journey slowly continued onwards until they reached the fabled ‘Honey Barn’. First thing that Kosara noted was...” It’s not covered in Honey...” She said audibly and with a disappointed sigh.” I mean… I didn’t think it would be, but I hoped.” Alright, one childish dream of things that weren’t meant to be broken. On a side note though it looked… big..ish. Maybe bigger than the main hall of the tavern she grew up in… scratch that the main floor of this place was bigger than her home. The caravan stop however made up with having a few different buildings and also a very nice outdoor area for those that wanted to be on the outside. Still Kosara felt really curious and wondered how it looked on the inside. Ideas of the possibilities of it ever being a barn covered in honey vanishing from her mind when a rather well shaped, but short woman with penchant for purple arrived! Kosara had only seen that much purple on V before! For that reason the teifling stole a glance at the bard, evaluating the shades of purple for a brief moment, concluding that V’s was more tasteful and returned her attention to the woman. Fancy hair… check… that expression… check… way of acting and speaking… check. Kosara had her pegged as the owner of this place right away due the similarities to a few people back home and the word exchange of the woman with Cecily only confirmed it. That corsait thing that she was wearing, certainly didn’t look comfortable however. It also was certain to get in the way of her type of dancing! Plus nobody in their right mind with wear something like that in the deserts with all the blazing sun and the scorching sands. Sand got EVERYWHERE… it was a recipe for disaster to wear something that tight fit and made out of leather.

When the introductions were given and an offer for a handshake arrived, Kosara hopped to it in her almost patented energetic way.” Hello, Madame Marcie!” She greeted in turn a huge smile on her face.” My name’s Kosara. I’m a dancer by trade and I play the Simsimiyya.” She greeted in return, not mentioning that she was apparently an adventurer too. Less because of some grand masterplan of subterfuge and more of the fact that Kosara will forever consider herself dancer first, traveler second and adventurer third.

“It looks like a great place! Very shiny and… costly looking! Must have taken a lot of time and effort to build up! My sisters would have loved to work at a place like this at least for a time. Though when I left, busyness in the desert was still high, nowhere near as it appears to be here.” She added when the woman mentioned her property in this case the Honey Barn.” I am looking forward to this festival, thank you! It’s going to be my first Festival! I’m looking to see and experience as much as I could!”

“If I may ask, Madam Marci, how do you maintain your nice raven hair this well in the North?” Kosara asked with genuine curiosity and plea in her voice.” Back home in the south, my sisters and I took care of it easily enough, but my usual lotions doesn’t seem to be working as well in the colder weather! What’s more they are hard to find or make since the products don’t seem to grow here!” She added, showing her impressive white braid.

Victoria hadn't imagined that making a mundane delivery of huge casks of wine would actually be fun. But here she was, actually having more of a pleasant diversion than she might have considered. Maybe it was the allure of the festival and all of its exciting notes that spurred on her morale, or just the opportunity to see how another land embraced the changing of the seasons; this one with a sense of upbeat optimism. Well run festivals were a joy to Victoria's senses. Sights, smells of good food and flowers, the music (probably the biggest draw for her) that served to broaden her own professional horizons, and a hundred different, tiny details that she might never have known about had she not been there to witness them personally. This was facilitated very effectively with their roundabout route throughout town, and for once she was grateful for a sub-optimal, meandering path.

Upon reaching what appeared to be the biggest amount of hubbub, this being in the middle of the town which featured an interesting fountain; one which seemed a little more elaborate than one might have built for a town of this size. The music and dancing got into her head and rattled around a little bit. For someone who coaxed and utilized strands of The Weave in the same manner as one might compose and play a song, music was important. Lyrics were spoken incantations, the movement of feet were as drawing runes upon the ground. The instruments played served as the materials which bound it all together. Even if no metaphysical powers came to fruition, no mind beguiled nor mote of fire thrown at one's enemies, every song played with heart and talent was a magic spell all of its own, capable of great things from a skilled performer.

And so Victoria broke away from the group to join the throng circling the fountain, dancing to a tune which she did not recognize but made a point to commit to memory. She gave a quick mental command for Morty to stay with the rest of the party, but soon lost herself in a whirling, uptempo cavort, familiar enough to her in style that she could meld into the locals in deed, if obviously not of appearance. This was celebratory and rural, honest, forthcoming, and beautiful in its lack of unnecessary nuance. And so Victoria danced with the locals. By the time that the wagon had rolled past and was exiting the town square, she had made three complete revolutions around the fountain and could have gone for more, except that they did have a pressing job to do. With some regret, Victoria pulled herself away from the dancers, gave a proper, hat-sweeping bow, the jogged to get back to the party. A broad smile lay set upon her lips which did not falter until long after they moved from the party going on in the town's center. Helping unload the wagon was just an afterthought, following this.

The odd and provocative title of the Inn they were supposed to be lodging within drew her interest well enough, and while the proprietor appeared to be a sort of jackass, the barmaid had Victoria's attention plenty, as she was doing the work of, and putting up with the bullshit due, at least three waitresses. Her eyes hovered for a moment until she realized that she was beginning to stare, then politely smiled and tipped her hat, mind returning to business at hand. In short: No private rooms. Beds in a common area. Hayloft nearby might have to suffice. It was not ideal, but this was not the only game in town. Possibilities of other places to lodge flitted about in her head. Surely something could be managed. If not, the hayloft was preferable to the open sky. She wouldn't mind a quick tour after the delivery run was over.

The Farmers' Market was likewise interesting to her. This was where the salt of the land, local growers and craftsfolk gathered to have their own, more homey and rural version of the festival, as best she could tell. Offloading the single barrel, or helping as she could by lining up planks to form a ramp (as physical might was not her forte) seemed like so much less of a chore, hearing how excited they were to get this massive container of wine. Then she found out why. "Oh, there is a talent show?" she inquired with an optimistic, ambitious tone. Victoria was a lady of many performing talents, and adding the huge cask of wine to her personal belongings would fetch her a tidy profit, even if the party had their fill and they sold the rest for a silver a flagon. She smiled sweetly at the man, preparing to schmooze like an Argenti bureaucrat at a diplomatic supper.

She was stopped cold. "I'm sorry, Miss..." The Very Important Looking Gentleman looked over to Victoria, a blush coming to his cheeks as he saw the dexterous, charismatic Half-Elf smiling sweetly at him, eyes a-sparkle and the world around her dimming against her radiant sense of presence. His resolve almost buckled. Almost. "Miss... ah, Lady. This is for local folk only, and sign ups are done with. Maybe next year? Or! Or you all might come by after, and we could throw a real party, yes? Maybe? Well, think about it. Lots of fun, you know!" The made Victoria smile a little more genuinely. Yes, she was denied. But the festivities of the workaday unshackled from the oversight of the lordly was often the most unrestrained and honest of times, surrounded by more or less good folk. In her experience, anyway.

In contrast, dropping off wine at the Traders' Market was a runaround, and mostly a bore. The tiniest spot of intrigue came with the view they all got at the Silversmith's place. Victoria wondered why a shop owner would close up and then board their windows at the outset of a huge business period. It made no sense. But, that mystery would have to wait for a little while longer, at least. There was more wine to deliver to one final place. Jacques Mallard was a name she would try to remember to ask about later.

And what a final delivery it was. This was a colorful place, certainly, with certain details that might give one less-than-innocent ideas about the nature of what did or did not occur within the walls of the Honey Barn. The owner of this fabulous Barn made herself known, introductions all around, and Victoria could not help but notice that Madame Marcie was the tallest Halfling that she had ever seen. This had to be a gimmick somehow. But a shrug later, V established that it was likely not helpful to probe into that topic at this time. A couple of the others had their own questions and bits of conversation with the rather dramatic looking woman, and Victoria herself felt compelled to make her own attempt at influence.

She picked up on the Madame's comment that Cecily had lovely companionship. Stressing lovely as if it might hold some meaning or another. Also, she seemed to have a proclivity for purple as well, though hers were more muted in nature. It was a point where she might begin. "Not remotely as lovely as that corset, Madame." She accepted the woman's hand and bowed slightly, sweeping off her most Bard-y of hats with a flourish. "So sorry for my informality, Madame. It has been a little adventurous as of late and I have yet to properly relate the story! I am called Victoria Belmont, Bard of the College of the Grey Requiem. You may call me V, if it suits your proclivities." A broad smile and a replacement of her hat, and she continued, "I simply adore your style, Madame Marcie! And I do so detest that those Goblins got into the wine earmarked for your establishment. I'm sure that you and Mrs. L'Rose can work something out, really I do. She's an honest woman, I think. But before we get into the drab necessities of whatever business talk needs being said, you must tell me where you got that scarf. It's gorgeous. Envy is making me green. Absolutely green, Madame." This was an unabashed attempt at fostering camaraderie based upon common interests and sociability. At face value. It seemed to be working.

The municipality building’s delivery proceeded without incident. The guards were unhelpful, but then again, it was hardly their job to get involved with the menial labor of deliveries. They were there to stop intruders and the like; it would hardly be reasonable to expect more from them than their paycheck demanded, especially given all the extra work they were already likely obligated to in this busy festive time. Not that it mattered much, since Kathryn seemed to have assigned herself to distributing the merchandise at each stop… with some aid from Marita. All told, Hugh was glad to have steered the group away from slighting them, however, as that passivity might not have remained otherwise.

Niel and Bob’s Public house was all too crowded for Hugh’s liking and the proprietor’s attitude didn’t much help matters. Granted, in the face of the man’s missing barmaids likely making life rather more difficult than he’d been expecting to deal with in an already stressful and busy time, that attitude could be forgiven somewhat. Didn’t mean Hugh was about to settle for a crowded common room where operational security might as well be a fleeting fantasy… to say nothing of sleeping in close quarters to numerous strangers. In the face of that objectively horrible option, Cicily’s offer of an otherwise unoccupied loft as lodgings came as a welcome surprise. It would hardly be the warmest or most comfortable place in the world, but he’d worked with worse in the past for longer stretches of time. A week in a hayloft? Yeah, he could work with that. “The loft will suffice,” he said to Cicily. The rest of the group had already voiced a general inclination to accept as well, so he hardly saw any reason to be the voice of dissent.

The Farmer’s Market’s hustle and bustle was one Hugh was more than glad to have separated himself from somewhat, as he lounged in the back of the wine cart, keeping a light eye on the product within. Honestly, he wasn’t all that worried about anything actually being taken, as the barrels were large and quite heavy, certainly not something any random thief could make off with in plain sight of both the civilians around them and the group that was playing escort. Hugh paid perhaps less mind than he should to the Very Important Looking Gentleman that received the delivery at the market. In all honesty, he was quite socially burned out for the day, and he was more than happy to leave things to his compatriots for the time being. The talent show concerned him not in the slightest, and he was only all too happy to hear the Bard be shut down in that respect. The last thing they needed was pointless distractions.

The Trader’s Market delivery was something of a slog, one Hugh chose to ride out silently, even as Marita assisted… rather less than successfully, granted, their temporary employer in finding who needed the wine. He wasn’t local and had no real input or assertions to offer in regards to locating the delivery’s recipient. Instead, he chose to continue his vigil over the product to be offloaded. In the end, the recipient ended up being a halfling named “Jacques Mallard”. Strangely rough, despite being the person to take the wine, his apparent silversmithing business didn’t seem to being doing quite as well as one might expect for someone with the wealth to purchase a large amount of wine. Hugh couldn’t say if the silversmith being closed up was as a result -or in spite- of the festivities, but thankfully, Kathryn voiced the general question on his mind without him having to say anything.

The last stop, the “Honey Barn” turned out to be something of a more literal existence than Hugh had first imagined, but the proprietor that came out to meet them more than confirmed his suspicions about its purpose. Hugh silently observed from the back of the cart as introductions made the rounds. Unlike his fellows, however, he saw nothing good coming of jumping on the bandwagon. While a brothel was, admittedly, a shockingly effective source of information, it was quite easy for the overconfident or foolish to forget that such information gathering cut both ways. Any information they revealed about themselves was information that was for sale, plain and simple. So, while the rest of the party was introducing themselves, Hugh didn’t bother moving from his spot in the back of the wagon, laying with his eyes closed and head resting against his doffed backpack. He had nothing to say and no intention of revealing anything unnecessary at this juncture, especially not for free, and especially not to someone for whom information was likely a fair amount of power. Should the time come that they availed themselves of the Madame Marcie’s information gathering services, then he’d be inclined to a polite initial trade, but until then, he’d play it safe.

Cecily was astute enough to realize that the concept of a hayloft wasn't the Bed & Breakfast experience that Marita might have wanted. Or any of them, for that matter. "I assure you, if you decide to accept my invitation to the vineyard, you will have much nicer accommodations. It's the least I might offer for what you have done for my family." She sighs, and gives one piece of information that she hopes brings comfort, "There is a lamp inside, and a big ceramic vessel that watchmen use for a firepit. Some stacked wood, too - or there should be. Privy house just to the back. I've stayed there myself, before. Once or twice." She promises again to give the group the grand tour, following the completion of the deliveries.

The question posed by Kathryn concerning the state of the silversmith's location was met with a blank look for a moment, as if Cecily was lost in thought. When she finally spoke, it was with a mild expression of hopelessness. "I really don't know. It was open a week or so ago, last time I was in town. Whatever reason Mr. Mallard had for boarding up from the inside, it must have been recent."

Little Lizbeth L'Rose has been very quiet, up in their wagon. She stuck to the driver's seat, staying near to her aunt as best she could unless there was a barrel being rolled off of the wagon and the elder Mrs. L'Rose needed to climb down. Her face kept moving with waves of grief and expressions of longing, seeing all of the fun which was going on around them yet feeling too guilty to ask if it was okay to join. Especially during the time that the wagon made its way down toward Madame Marcie's Honey Barn, she keeps a very low profile, not venturing to speak.

But as for Madame Marcie herself, she appears quite taken by the positive attention being doled out to her, especially by Kosara and Victoria. In fact, she appears to have an immediate elevation of spirits, reflected in the words and tone she uses to both Cecily and the party. It is to Mrs. L'Rose and Kathryn that she first gives address, saying, "Ah, but come now. There's no need to be sorry, really." Her accent, as foreign as the rest of the party is to this area, stresses a little more as she continues, "One cannot reliably predict the aggression of Goblins, now can they? No, what we have here is the cost of doing business, one which Mrs. L'Rose will have to tend. But I do not insist that it be settled this day. Oh no! Both of us are way too busy for that. Send me a free one when you can or credit my account. The inconvenience of it is my cost of doing business."

The lack of desire to open conversation past the simplest of introductions, as well as the general attire of Marita, is really all that Marcie seems to need to know about the Cleric. A half-second of sizing one another up and coming to their perspective judgements later, and the Madame gives a polite, knowing smile up to the adventuring Clergywoman, and that seems to be that.

But to the more conversationally active of the group, Marcie had much to say. "A Tiefling dancer from the southern deserts, and an actual Bard? How exquisite." She listened for a time, interest developing as each of them went into the speeches they gave and questions they asked, something very near to delight finally accenting her face. "I have no idea what a Simsimiyya, nor what the Grey Requiem is." She waved her hands, as if warding off gnats, to embellish her thought of, "Mere details." A moment later, she offered, "Hmm... You two could do well for yourself here. I would be soft-headed not to at least ask if you would like to do some work during the festival. Profitable work. Entertainment, mind you, not... well, only for entertainment. Scruples, of course. But you, Miss Kosara, thank you! Your hair is just gorgeous as well. Rare, and gorgeous. As for my raven locks, well... woman to woman? My secret is that sometimes," Marcie looked around and spoke at a whisper, as if to prevent others from hearing a trade secret, "Sometimes, I give my hair the night off."

A wink and then she brought herself back to full height, speaking loudly enough for everyone else to hear, "My door is open now, or you may come back later and we can shuffle some shows around. I'm sure I can find something mutually profitable for a ...so very strong lady..." This obviously aimed at Kathryn, "...to pass the time in my little corner of Avonshire." Marcie waved and strutted back toward the doors of The Honey Barn, her boots making a hollow clacking sound upon the cobblestones, feeling much better about herself and life in general.

After the initial conversations with the Madame were concluded and things began to wrap up, Lizbeth leaned out of the wagon in Cecily's general direction and reminded that, after deliveries were done, she promised to let them in the loft. The older lady responds, "Ah yes, of course. For those of you who are interested, please follow me back to the loft." Cecily spoke as if distracted, quickly straightening up to see to her affairs.

For those who chose to follow Cecily back to the Hayloft, you can tell that she remained quiet and somewhat distracted, despite all of the cheerful celebration around you all. It wasn't until the group got back to the street which held the loft that she began to speak again. "Bob's Public House is just across the way and up a building, here. Next door to that and just across from the loft is a stable run by a man named Fields. Human, used to work with the soldiers over in Darenby. And here," She dropped down from the now much emptier wagon, removing a bar and a lock from the big double doors to at the front. "Here is the family's hayloft. It's only used for the storage of hay and straw, some tools. Animals are kept across the street. This is closed up now, but there should still be several bales of fresh hay in here." She reminds of the privy out back, ceramic fire bowl, and oil lamp. There is also a cart in here, to one corner, and a few barrels near to the front of the ground floor.



The floor is made of the same cobblestones as the street, Otherwise, this place is built of stone and well tended lumber. Bales of hay are present, as is a ladder reaching to the next level up. This is not the only means of accessing the second floor, as a loading block and tackle can be seen on a pulley system, attached to a wooden platform. Right now, that platform rests upon the floor, but it won't take a genius to operate the system from either the ground or second level, providing a simple elevator. The ladder itself can be moved, or taken up behind someone on the higher floor. Double doors can be spotted on either side of this building on the ground floor, both of which can be barred from the inside. The entire place smelled of mown hay and tooled wood.

Wandering in from the wagon outside, Lizbeth spoke to her aunt with the start of moisture in her eyes. "Aunt CeeCee? What are we going to do about Grandpa?" Her lip began to quiver slightly. Lizbeth held it back as best she could, but she did just lose a family member and had to run from a Goblin attack, only to find out that they stripped the flesh from Grandpa's bones and ate his corpse. Her ability to keep it together was fraying.

Marita had helped quite a bit while delivering the barrels. They were heavy to load in originally, and though unloading was easier the help was much appreciated. Kathryn made sure to give a thanks to Marita at each stop she helped with. Though maybe a little redundant after the first time Kathryn felt it was warranted. It did seem that everyone preferred the hayloft compared to the public house. It was nice that Kathryn wouldn't have to push her point or make an argument. Though the others likely didn't posses the same reasoning compared to herself, the fact that they all agreed made a huge help.

The deliveries themselves had their own interesting events. A Mr. Mallard owned the silver smith shop. But it was boarded up from the inside? That rang odd to Kathryn. She figured it could make sense if the city as packed with looters and martial law was in effect? Or maybe the man inside had some kind of disdain for the festival? She wasn't sure, and it seemed Cecily wasn't either. Kathryn would make note of it, and if she had some free time she would go check things out. Or if it showed any connection to current events, she may check it out sooner then planned. But unless her leads went dry or she found herself with a bit of extra time she was on a time table and couldn't risk pushing things too far. Though it did intrigue her.

On the plus side of things, things seemed to be going well with Madame Marcie. Though she wanted compensation she was willing to work with Cecily over time to figure things out. It also seemed that she had no interest in taking the party's favor to help make up for it. Though not having that debt over their heads was a good things Kathryn did see it as a chance to get to learn some tidbits of not so public information. Another spot she would have to consider, and to assist things Madame Marcie had offered work to Victoria and Kosara who had been sweet talking their way into the woman's thoughts. Though a variety of directions at that. It seemed Kathryn was also offered work, though it didn't seem of the same kind. Likely labor jobs. Though that tone left some questions for Kathryn, and she wondered if there was more to the woman's statements. It was a foot in the door if she decided to go that way. "Thank you very much for the offer my lady." She spoke towards Madame Marcie. "My schedule is a little unpredictable at the moment, but I won't forget this offer should the time arrive." She debated more how she could use this to her advantage. If she could time it away from her other tasks while freeing up the busy hours to talk to potential witnesses it could be a chance to talk to some of the staff in private. "To help keep you in mind, are there specific hours you would need services I can provide?" Plus if she made a little extra money on the side while figuring things out, added bonus. Plus, she stood out in her want to not loot the dead. Though she did accept Hugh's coins, much past that was still hard for her. So a few extra funds could come in handy.

The party was soon led to the hayloft, their temporary home as the investigation continued. "Thank you so much for helping us out here. I would like to see what things are like at the vineyard too at some point. But having somewhere in town will make our lives a lot easier." Though the thought of sleeping in a real bed seemed rather nice, the ability to operate within the township at all times of the day and night was rather useful. Especially if the party had to split up for any reason and needed to rush to a safe spot with allies quicker then expected. The hayloft it self wasn't terrible. No keep with a massive bed, but it wasn't as bad as Kathryn was preparing for it to be.

While Kathryn was exploring their temporary home she saw and soon heard young Lizbeth come in, finally hitting her breaking point. Looking at her, she reminded Kathryn of herself when she had to flee her own home, and when Ser Lucas had to take care of her. Kathryn walked up to the young girl, dropping down onto a single knee to get as close to her eye level as she could. "That'll be figured out. Don't you worry too much about that alright? Right now the biggest thing you need to worry about is making sure you're okay." Kathryn looked at this little girl unsure of how to help her. Much of her own feelings when she fled home she was forced to bottle up for many years. Leading to many of Kathryn's own personal issues. "You seem like a very brave lady though." Kathryn then reached her arms around the Lizbeth giving her a hug. "But for now, you just need to make sure that you are okay. Trust the adults to figure things out, and to make sure everything is okay." Normally the only physical contact Kathryn would allow with another person would be if she was getting close to attack, or the rare exceptions like when she left Kosara hold her arm. Though the feeling was a bit uncomfortable for Kathryn, she wanted to do nothing else other then to make sure that this little girl was okay. And if it was true that the goblins had been ordered to do their raiding, to exact this girl's pain into whoever gave that order physically.