Victoria did not sleep with the comfort and feeling of safely that a child might at home in bed. It was better than the cool night she spend in the mausoleum two nights prior, leaning against her small cart with Morty keeping watch, and in truth was about as restful as the night she spent in The Infamous Pear the previous evening. The level of privacy felt about the same. Instead of being in a room with two other strangers, she was now in a moderately heated-ish open air loft with almost strangers that she had known for a little over a day now. A bedroll atop bales of hay with a blanket to cover near to a glowing brazier wasn't the worst way to get a night's rest.

There was the occasional stirring in over the course of the night as watch changed and new wood was added to the brazier. During those times Victoria's eyes would sleepily open, noting the change in position of her allies and Morty's steadfast stillness, bell firmly grasped in its mouth. Then she would shift a little and slip back into reasonably fitful sleep. This continued until the first light of day hinted at its arrival from around the edges of the doors. The reality that they were in a town that, for all intent and purpose was potentially hostile ground, settled into her thoughts, prompting a more full entry into consciousness. They were there for a job. More specifically, they were there for a potentially profitable investigation. Oh yes, that "common good" thing, too. Lest she forget. So when Marita approached to rouse her, Victoria was quite ready to be roused. "Good morning, Marita," she said with a cheerfulness which she did not completely embrace.

A quick mental command called Morty over to her as she sat up in her makeshift bed. The bell made a little noise in transit; enough to make Victoria wince, expecting a full knell to sound instead of the tiny brassy report which did. She smiled at her own foolishness and reclaimed the bell from her porcine thrall, wrapped the clapper snugly, and replaced it in her chest. A moment of concentration brought with it tendrils of unseen necromantic energy to reinforce her connection to the piggy wonder and extend its animation for a few more hours.

While she was at it, a sly look in the direction of the Monk's belongings brought back the memory of a discussion from the night before. Victoria rose, stretching her whole body out and showing off the fine silk of her modest(ish) undergarments, and claimed two things from his belongings - a shortbow and a quiver of arrows - both of which formerly belonged to the Goblins they slaughtered the day before. The quality was surprisingly adequate of, if a bit plain. These went into her chest with what appeared to be a set of alternate equipment and clothing. Mostly clothing. "If he comes back, I just borrowed them." The words were stated very flatly. Her expression contained a wry smile.

Following this and a few practices of basic hygiene, which was a priority for her generally and especially while around people with which she was not intimately comfortable, Victoria propped her cosmetics kit on top of her traveling chest and opened it gingerly. Careful, dexterous hands applied various products of her trade and choosing, accenting her already striking features subtly; the goal was not to appear as a work of art more than a creature of divine, approachable, natural beauty. It was a craft of which she excelled. She did add a hint of boldness around her eyes, truth told, but nothing remotely like the funerary display from yesterday. Satisfied, Victoria donned her slim coat, affixed her silver, raven skull brooch below her neckline, and buckled on her swordbelt. Her swashbucklingly notable hat made its way into her hands.

"Well then ladies," she began with a smile and a swoop of her most bardiest of headwear, "I rather feel like having something hot, and, perhaps a bit of fresh fruit this morning. If you will excuse me, myself and my faithful Morty will abscond to the Public House for this morning's repast. It's time I formally introduce myself to the town anyway, and we've quite the day ahead of us, yes?" Morty trotted onto the block and tackle lift, ready to be lowered to the ground floor. "Good boy, Morty. Good boy."

Rickard woke fairly early in the morning, feeling slightly groggy from the after effects of having consumed two cups of the potent wine with no meal. For several minutes he sat on the bed recalling the dream from last night. It had been some time since he had dreamed of that particular day with Lynda. Granted it had been nearly eighty-five years since that day. He wasn't sure why it had made its way into his subconscious dream state. Could it be part of himself telling him to slow down and be cautious, or was it simply just random chance.

With a slight sigh, he started to gather his gear from the chest and took off his cloths from the night before. After donning a simple pair of wool leggings and shirt, he cleaned and folded the clothing from the night prior. He stored them in his bag with the rest of the gear he kept on there. He put on his chain mail next, buckling his sword belt on over it, and grabbed his shield and bag.

Now that he was completely geared up, Rickard went into the main room and found a table. The smell of the fresh bread filling the air caused his stomach to rumble. Which reminded him how long it had been since he had eaten last. When Lea stopped by the table, Rickard requested bacon, bread, boiled eggs, and tea to drink. He sat waiting for his meal with his shield resting against the table to his right, waiting as well for the group of adventurers from last night. After some thought he asked for some more bread bacon and eggs to be brought to the table incase the others have not eaten yet. When the food arrived he started with a slice of bacon and began to crack open an egg. The shell peeled easily enough and in two bites the egg was gone. He washed it down with swig of tea and continued to eat his breakfast.

Weather: Chilly, but a little more hospitable than an hour prior.

Time: Morning! Early morning, just past dawn.

Ambience: Still foggy. From the looks of things though, this is apt to change soon. The sun has asserted itself more prominently in the sky, bathing the Township of Avonshire with steady, pale light. The cold's edge has been blunted, as has the soupy thickness of the fog. Because of this, vision is significantly less restricted. There is a sheen of frost along most hard surfaces, windows, and anything still within the shadow of structures which the sun has not yet touched. It is autumn in Avonshire, which has come to mean cold nights and cool but milder days, even if the transition from one to the other takes a couple hours.

The exhalations of the earlier risers on the streets condenses and wisps away in billowy masses, giving the appearance of smoke or the like. A pair of children accompanying their father to his business take advantage of this, scrambling with boundless energy to pretend that they are dragons in flight, having at one another with their scorching breath. With no clear winner to their imaginary aerial duel, they enter a nearby structure, promising one another to pick back up where they left off the next morning.

Emanating from the Farmers' Market is the most encouraging scent of pork fat and woodsmoke, elements of seasoning jumbling together, all as the wind sees fit to send a gust in your direction. The pitmasters of the region are apparently still at their craft in anticipation of the event later this day. It is a welcome contrast to the more acrid smells of early morning industry, such as livestock and tanners' crafts, for example.

The sound of a hammer hitting metal can be heard across the thoroughfare from the Hayloft and next door to the Public House - the Fields Stable and Farrier appears to be open for business. Another early riser, it seems. The same Human who accepted the mule and wagon seems to be fitting a horseshoe first thing in the morning, his simple forge in the front of the establishment having come to life and providing ample heat for the veteran tradesman to ply his trade in relative comfort.


The highly toothsome smells of fresh bread and searing, smoky meat waft out of the kitchen of Neil & Bob's. This has positive effects on some of the boarders, negative effects on others. One can tell who those are very quickly. As a few shuffle out of the common sleeping area, rubbing sleep from their eyes, others still make a more or less civilized beeline for the door, going to parts unknown or parts very known to vent foulness from themselves birthed of overindulgence the night before.

These factors make for a very subdued setting within the Public House. Perhaps three of the table are occupied, and sparsely. Robert isn't immediately available in the taproom, nor is Daisy (though sounds of labor come from the kitchen that suggests her presence there). Lea is around, however, looking fairly haggard as if she did not get the fullest night of sleep she might have liked. The tavernlady moves to take orders for a simple breakfast - this is not a menu sort of place - for fare that almost borders on middle-class.

The bread is fresh and steamy hot, having just come from an oven a recently. The call for Bacon is responded to with strips of seared, heavily smoked pork; about as close to bacon as one might get without actually being sliced fatback. "Oh, Mister Elf, sir," Lea began in response to Rickard's order, "Eggs are a special order. I'll see what I can do." A credit to her profession of hospitality, she does return with good news about eggs, and after a few minutes more she returned with the requested ovoid delights. Otherwise, the simple nature of the business kept their food selections to a dense, local bread, butter, gravy, smoked pork, tea, and water. Wine and ale were present upon request, though it might be considered a bit early to hang a buzz around one's head. Apples and pears were available as well; the apples looked in better condition than the pears. The food was very simple, well prepared, and mildly seasoned - excellent for those with un-elaborate tastes.

Relative warmth waited for those entering the establishment, though it was not the only place one might go that hour.

Kosara was quickly roused from slumber by Marita and the energetic pale teifling was quickly with eyes wide open and crawling out of her bedroll with little fuss. She was used to wake up in reasonably early time and every morning one had to get up early in the desert stop to clean the place up. They all lived and worked there after all, so it built habits.” Good morning, all! Did you all sleep well?” She greeted as she made her way out of the bedroll and proceeded to carefully gather up her sleeping gear. Roll up the bedroll, attach it with the straps to the traveling bag and so on. Once all was gathered up, she followed V’s direction and went in to deal with some hygiene tasks for the new day. Though she did not apply makeup, Kosara did instead on top of the slight use of magic, she just washed herself really well with water and soap. Magic cleaning was one thing… but soap cleaning was a whole different feel! What she really needed however was to get a bath later… her long hair needed proper care and honestly she’d love to get it braided anew.

“Hey that’s not a bad idea, V!” The dancer exclaimed as she was wiping her wet face with a piece of cloth from her bag that doubled as a towel whenever she didn’t need it for anything else. Her bangs and face were still glistening with moisture for a bit, before she did another wipe with the cloth and she was good.” I can probably make myself another cheese and bacon sandwich! Or maybe I will try apple and bacon one this time!” She felt… in the mood for food experimentation.

Once her mind was made up, she quickly put on her brand new and comfortable soft coat and hurried to be ready to leave with V who was taking down Morty from the lift.” Anybody had anything curious happening on their watch? Mine was pretty calm, finished catching up in my journal without any interruptions.” She stated, dancing out to the door leading outside that they would be using. She partially opened the door and peaked outside just a bit to check how it was. It was… cold. Seemed to be a thing with the North, but that aside, it was starting to get to proper daylight now. Dawn was among her more favorite times, there was something magical watching the sunsets and dawns in the desert. After spending some time North, she had seen a number of dawns and sunsets and concluded that they were quite pretty here too. Afterwards confirming the world outside was not dark and scary, she looked at the others and just as she was to rush off to find a table, her eyes locked onto Kathryn and instead closed the door, skipping over to the warrior woman instead.” Hey, Kathryn, I got to confirm this… last night you said you were ‘mates’ with that male elf in the Public House. Did you mean ‘mate’ mate or was a term for friend or something like that?” She asked dead serious, looking the tall woman in the eyes.” Cause if you did not mean a partner to sire a child with, then I owe the man an apology.”

Marita had woken up the party bit by bit after a long night of watches and mild paranoia. While getting up still wrapped in every single bit of sleeping equipment the tall woman owned she noticed Victoria going through some of Hugh's supplies. She offered to return them upon his return, but she wondered a bit about that. Kathryn also debated about picking up a bow so she had some kind of ranged option to herself, but decided against it for the moment. She had her hand axes which hit rather hard and could double in melee in a pinch. Though she may consider a longbow at some point in her time. Soon enough, the bard would be making her way to the public house for food, Kathryn stopping to grab her attention first. "Victoria? Can I get another one of those privacy screens? They're a little more effective than hay...." Thankfully, she was more then willing to help the poor sleeping bag covered woman. While wrapped she almost looked like a burrito wrap with legs and a head, but with Victoria's cover she was able to spend the morning cleaning up as best as she could while lacking supplies for it, and change into her rusting and worn armor. Once the job was done, she'd be able to replace her worn makeshift set for something in better condition. "Thank you!" She spoke to the bard before she left, she was glad to have such a helpful team member who didn't ask for anything in return for all of these favors.

Kathryn gave a morning wave to Kosara as the party got ready. Upon her question of how she slept? She gave a glance to Morty contemplating her answer. "I slept well enough." Not breaking eye contact with the walking bacon that almost scared her to death the night before. It seemed their tiefling friend was also going to head to the public house for a good morning meal, a meal Kathryn was debating skipping. Remembering how the night before went, and how she came to the conclusion Kosara assumed she was pregnant from just how big she had gotten, Kathryn decided maybe she could afford to miss breakfast. At that thought, her stomach reminded her that was a bad idea, and would make her suffer if she ever thought of such heresy ever again. As her stomach reminded her, there is no meal more important then breakfast. But she was still hesitant. "My watch had little of note. Just walked around in my beddings, checking the perimeter, Morty... keeping me company." The night before had she been armed, she would have been prepared to fight the undead pig. But while spooked the night before, she was at the bacon's mercy. "But uh... nothing of note otherwise." Ready to take on the day she grabbed the last of her gear, and made her way for the door.

When stopped by Kosara about the night before, Kathryn's mouth went agape. "So... you're saying... it was a miscommunication? Not that I was... Big? Fat?" The relief that came across Kathryn was massive, though she wasn't as worried as many about her own figure, she still didn't like negative attention. And being assumed pregnant when she wasn't kicked her self esteem pretty hard. "No no no... Not pregnant, just new friends is all there. Like... You and I would be mates, but not... mate mates. Friend mates. Not... putting babies in each other's bellies mates. I haven't had anyone even close to that since I was little, and those were just marriage talks." Kathryn said trying to contain her excited laughter as the whole situation caught up to her mind. "Go easy on the poor lad. He's just trying ta do the right thing." Kathryn gave Kosara a rub on her head before making her way out the doors.

With everyone awake (and Hugh still absent), Marita had the chance to share what she had peeped upon during her watch.

"During my watch almost nothing happened. However I did happen to overhear a conversation between Robert and the constable. He was very interested in the commotion that happened last night and the whereabouts of the outsiders who had caused it. Robert told him he didn't know where we or the L'Roses were and that he didn't report it because it wasn't more trouble than would be ordinary. When pressed about how much he knew about 'what was happening' Robert insisted he didn't know a thing." With the proper information reported, they could now focus on their plans for the day. Or rather that's what she would have wanted had not people immediately began to make decisions themselves. Sigh.

"I'll go with Victoria to Bob's. I already ate, but I can ask Lea and Rickard about some more things while we're there. You two should probably check on the L'Roses. After that conversation I'm worried about them." On top of her stated intentions, Marita wasn't keen on sticking around for the conversation Kosara and Kathryn were having. Leaving let her escape the whole awkwardness of the situation while allowing her to get to work. Furthermore, if Gregory's cousin was so keen on weeding out outsiders, Rickard might also be a target; even if he was a potential security risk she would rather avoid another name added to the list on her person. The other two girls could work out... whatever it was while she wasn't there.

Before heading out, Marita looked at her shield and contemplated for a moment before she chose to leave it behind. No weapon either. She wasn't going to go around looking like she was going to pick a fight. If the situation changed dramatically, or she needed to leave town she could always come back and grab them, but for the forseeable future she'd just need to rely on her spellcasting to handle things out in town.

A few dramatic waves, reminiscent of an orchestra conductor relaying the tempo of a strings section, and Victoria had set back up her illusory privacy screen. "You have approximately a minute, Kathryn. Make it count." The Bard might have stuck around to replenish the spell following this minute, except that her proclivities just then had her moving on toward creature comforts and getting their job in motion. Naturally, the former came first. Victoria had a desire for a little something warm that morning but did not hold out a ton of hope for the more sophisticated foodstuffs of her homeland. A lady might dream, though.

Responding to Kathryn's expression of gratitude for the minor illusion cast for modesty's sake, Victoria reassured, "Think nothing of it, Lady Knight. It's no more than you would do for me, I am certain." Her smile was sweet, seemingly masking another choice phrase or two implied yet left unsaid.

Morty (who apparently was popular the previous night), stood upon the lift with the same vacuous, unthinking expression as ever. Victoria lowered the not-quite-living beast to the ground floor and set back to her own belongings while the others talked. The discussion between Kosara and Kathryn honestly made the musical Half-Elf wonder if they were doomed to some horrible, Darwinian end in the near future. This was tempered by the reminder of the group utterly running roughshod over the Goblins. What they lacked in ...things... these people seemed to make up for in deliverable ouch. To contrast, even if she didn't look like she was paying the rapt-est attention, Victoria was taking in the details of the conversation which Marita overheard. There were implications to this which she could not connect without further information; questions that she might want to answer were she so inclined to follow up on them. If this even had anything to do with the disappearances.

As opposed to their Cleric, Victoria gave a tiny shake of her head as she slipped her coat over her leather armor and buckled on her swordbelt. She was no great fighter, obviously, but was no stranger to either style or defending herself. A slim, elegant blade made by talented Human hands from a foreign land helped give her, she believed, an air of adventurous sophistication. And if she was being honest with herself, there was no way in any of the Hells that she was disarming when she didn't have to. And her primary violin? Most assuredly its case was being slung across her back. It completed the whole, bardy ensemble.

Plans were being made, sort of, and Victoria had something similar to a plan, herself. Or an idea, more like. This idea revolved around her talking to people with practiced nonchalance who might point her in a useful direction and having a light breakfast. Probably not in the exact order. In any case, as plans that did not originate from her were being discussed, Victoria swung herself down the ladder to the ground floor and announced, "Whatever we get ourselves into, ladies, I'm having a light breakfast first. Best of luck." She stopped to give Morty a mental command to follow, and found herself wishing to voice a thought: "If you truly are going after the L'Roses first thing, they are located in a boarding house with a green roof, near to that boarded up silversmith's place. I saw them safely there myself last night." She went for the door, her tusked hog following, and suggested, "Perhaps we should meet back up at noon, latest. Just in case, of course. Oh, and good morning to you both."

She departed, Morty keeping to her heels.

Victoria wasted no time getting across the street to the Public House. This seemed to be her life, anymore. A series of public houses instead of her plying her trade as either a funerary overseer, scholar, or just musician. Her home accommodations were definitely more grand than to which she was subjected in places like Avonshire - not that it was bad, mind you, just not as haute as she was raised with. And she did tend toward expensive tastes from time to time. Upon entering, she made a beeline for Rickard's table and, albeit without express permission, settled into a seat on the opposite side. Her swordbelt hung neatly on the back of the chair.

Yes, there were glances at her burlap-wrapped companions from the very few people in the taproom. This was nothing that she hadn't dealt with since her more morally ambiguous abilities manifested. But as the Elf hadn't seen but a parlor trick to represent who she was and what she did, bringing Morty along seemed to be an expedient way of shattering any misconceptions or misunderstandings on the outset, provided that the warrior could put two and the square root of four together. She smiled but didn't speak; not until Lea tottled over to take her order. Sweetly, Victoria found out what was on their limited menu and chose for herself something simple; fresh bread, butter, fruit and tea. She then leaned in a little and addressed the guy in a rather optimistic tone, "Well. Here we are."

Rickard looked over the food brought before him and then to Lea. He thanked her and handed her the silver for the meal, plus an extra. When Victoria arrived he had already started cutting into the smoked pork, placing a chunk of it on a slice of the dense bread. "Here you are. It is good to see you didn't have any troubles during the night." He took a bite of the open-faced sandwich he made of the smoked pork, and shifted his gaze to the animal that followed Victoria.

The animal that followed her seemed to be a pig wrapped in burlap. How it acted was more a giveaway than the burlap wrapping, or so he thought. Well, that and what he could recall of last night's conversation with Victoria. She had said something about being a member of the Grey Requiem, which Rickard did know was a college of bards that focused more on the powers of necromancy. With all of that information, it was likely that this animal was a pet of Victoria's, and not likely a living one.

He did wonder to himself what drew people to such practices. While necromancy itself was not wholly evil, certain aspects of it were, many he had heard of using it were not necessarily the best of people. There were tales he heard many decades ago about one such person exhuming the dead of a village not far from his home. The person had been animating the bodies and leading this small undead band against travelers on the roads near where he had made his new home.  It wasn't long after the villagers banded together, requested help from Rickard's father, and fought off the necromancer and his small army. The help Lord Barriden provided proved necessary to prevent the villagers from being overwhelmed by the zombies. This half-elven woman however did not seem like the typical necromancer Rickard had heard of.

The elven man took a drink of tea to help wash down the bite he had just had. "In regards to my search I had heard that a dressmaker's daughter had gone missing. That and the peculiar state of the silversmith's shop being boarded up from the inside. I think either of these places may be a good area to start looking. Unless you or one of your compatriots would like to go through Samuel's shop and look for something I may have missed." While relaying what he was planning to go check for the day to Victoria, he pick up an egg and started to remove the shell. It took a bit to remove the shell, but one cleared the elf and ate it in a few quick bites.

“Kathryn, you are the last person I’d call FAT!” Kosara was offended and angry at the insinuation!” I know you are hiding all those great muscles underneath those armors, don’t even try to pretend otherwise! So I guess we had a case of mistaken communication about the meaning of words. What’s with you northerners and your use for words that mean this type of thing and use them for something else?” Kosara grumbled and pouted.” Next you will tell me that you use something like bitch to NOT mean female dogs...” She huffed in annoyance… Then stopped, recalled something in her travels, looked at Kathryn, sighed and placed her face in her arms.” Of course you do...”

“So that’s what Grandpa meant by looking for the meaning behind the words...” She mumbled to herself quietly. Of course the question if that’s what her old and sagely advice giving Grandpa meant, was a whole different can of worms. Kosara sighed again.” I guess I owe the man an apology now, but that can wait for AFTER we check on the L’Rose family.” The tiefling concluded, putting on her new and comfortable coat.” Let’s go!” She stated, pulling some dried meat form the stuff she bought last night that wasn’t eaten up, since to her disappointment pretty much nobody took of the foodstuffs she brought back. Everybody more or less went to bed right away, so at least she had some breakfast.” Thank you, V!” Kosara called to the bard who informed them of the location of their new friends.

She also brought her bag this time around, making sure she was ready for the road just in case as she hopped in place, looking to check if Kathryn was ready to depart..” Come on, Kath, let’s go! We’ve got things to do and places to check! We can probably even check the Silversmith’s place while we are in the area. Seemed curious!” She stated with a huge grin as the big hand of Kathryn rubbed her on her head. It was nice… reminded her of when her Grandpa would rub her head when she was little. It was… nice. As Kathryn headed outside, the white tiefling quickly followed her out the door of the hayloft and into the street.

Place still had some fog, but with the sun on the horizon it was… maybe going to change? She had no idea, in the desert there wasn’t any fog… not that she was aware of anyways. But that said they didn’t have mirages out here either, so it was a give and take kind of situation. “ Alright, let’s go! To adventure!” She happily proclaimed, marching forward to the place where V said she had dropped off their friends last night. Kosara was a woman on a mission and this fine chilly morning, that mission was to find interesting things and meet friends! Maybe try to see if she could get inside the silversmith to see if they are still there. Maybe if she helps them, they could silvercoat some of the decorative coins she uses for dancing scarf… or maybe they will give her a good price on making some proper silver ones instead.

Weather: Partly cloudy, a chill still lingering int he air. It is autumn, after all, but the sun is doing a good job of bringing this up to "sweater" weather, as opposed to "winter gear".

Time: Morning! Early morning still, not very far past dawn.

Ambience: Mr. Sun is a little higher up now, and he's being a pal. The fog has abated into something that stands at a hazy distance - it is present and lends heavily to the atmosphere, but does little to hamper vision except at a distance; in most cases this distance would have been blocked by structures, anyway.

People are slightly more active now. Most of these people appear to be working types moving to their places of business, so far as anyone might tell. There are a couple instances of citizens Avonshire Township that might be taking the proverbial Walk of Shame, but this is not easy to verify without direct questioning. The foot traffic is still sparse, comparative to the previous day and evening especially. The occasional cart can be seen headed outside, likely to one of the many farms in the outlying area. This is a heavily agricultural region, after all. And somewhere in, and/or around the fair Township, one might hear words softly carried by the wind, "G'mornin'! Nice day for fishin', ain't it? Huah hah!"


Robert sat at the bar, back to the door still, seemingly trying hard to ignore anything else except for the simple breakfast and ale in front of him. The few patrons inside of the establishment were quiet, also keeping to themselves for the most part. It is relatively quiet inside of the humble Public House, in blatant contrast to the revelry just a handful of hours earlier.

Following the delivery of what few, simple meals were ordered, Lea takes to pushing a mop across the floor with the occasional, "Oh! Excuse me!" or, "Careful stepping there, floor's damp." There isn't a lot heard from behind the door to the kitchen area aside from a shuffle of small wares every once in a while. It seemed that, after a long night, people were content with a quiet morning.

This also included the common sleeping room, which yet contained the bulk of its inhabitants. Not surprisingly, they were not fated to be early risers that day. A quiet retching sound could be heard from behind the wall which separated it from the taproom, and only because of the lack of speech and movement in the latter.

One of the tables in the main room, containing a pair of locals, pauses their meal long enough to give a long, hard look at the extremely still, quiet, emaciated-looking hog(?) accompanying the lady in purple. Silent glances slowly gave way to inaudible whispers and disturbed expressions. The pair of them lay money upon the table and leave without fuss, one grabbing a the already paid for loaf of bread from their table on the way out.



The journey to the spot the L'Roses reserved for themselves was uneventful, for the most part. The part of the Township where the hayloft and Public House reside was considered fairly common in quality, if respectable in the way that many towns (even if it is the major settlement of the region) simply were in the eyes of its inhabitants. The part of town that they were headed to, separated only by a couple of streets of any note, had more of a haute quality; this being the more mercantile Traders' Market area, or nearabouts. Money changed hands in larger quantities here, and a couple of the people might not let you forget it.

Odd stares came from a few of these types of people, slightly scornful and slightly wary, at the appearance of a Tiefling and the largest woman any of these people had ever seen. Whispers of things like, "...do you think that one is..? ...I don't know, I thought he said it was an Elf woman... Sorcery, that's what it is... ..wow, that's a tall one, innit? ...devil spawn, and in dark times, too..." might be understood by someone attentive to their surroundings. But no one approached, nor said anything openly.

Arriving at the silversmith's is the easy part. Following this is determining which green-roofed building could possibly be the correct one was another matter. It might have taken a few minutes, or instantly, depending upon the sharpness of the investigative mind pursuing it, but eventually the pieces are put together that the wooden sign that spelled out "Bed & Breakfast" attached to a two-story, green roofed structure might just be the one for which they had been looking.

A knock or three results in a moderately heavyset Human lady with touches of grey in her otherwise dark brown hair opening the door. She introduces herself as Mrs. Ines Cuvier, after a twinge of shock at the sight of her two highly irregular guests passes. "I'm so very sorry, Miss, and Miss, but we are completely booked up through the festival! I don't know where you might find a place this time of the year, but maybe you might rent a tent in the Farmers' Market? There's a good lady now, off with you, yes?" It might have come out a little more rudely than intended, and she looked like the was in a mild hurry.

"No wait, they're friends of mine!" called a familiar voice from inside the house. In the line of sight of the front doors, among other things, was a set dining table on the other side of the main room. Around it were a small collection of people, among which also sat Cecily and Lizbeth L'Rose. Cecily was speaking, of course, and gave a little wave. The whole of them had sat down to breakfast, and it looked like they just had. The fare here was of somewhat better quality then that being served at the Public House, though such things were ordinarily reserved for temporary residents. "Please let them in, Mrs. Cuvier. These are two of the ones I was telling you about."

Lizbeth gave a distant smile, waving with familiarity at Kosara and Kathryn even as she popped a fresh berry scone in her mouth and chewed vigorously. She looked around as if to motion to an empty seat at the table, but alas, they were all taken by boarders in town for the festival.

The proprietress relented, nodding her acquiescence and opening the door fully to admit the pair, should they so desire. The main room was rather open. It featured a large fireplace with a sitting area in front of it in addition to the dining area and a set of stairs made of well appointed and decoratively carved, dark wood. There were rugs, there were cushions, even a bit of local, folksy art. While this place had the bearing of a solid middle-class residence in a larger community, for a rural region like Avonshire this was near to opulence.

The conversation between Robert and the constable concerned Kathryn. The man clearly didn't like the party, but him talking to the other man who seemed... indifferent to the side of untrusting was concerning. Though from what Marita explained they were still in the clear. Kathryn was glad she kept the focus on the goblins rather than getting into more details about the real investigation. "We'll make sure the two are safe. See what you can figure out from Rickard. Maybe he has a missing piece to our little puzzle." He was a fresh perspective, so maybe he could take some of what they knew and get something out of it. And maybe vice versa? Victoria was able to give herself and Kosara the location of the L'Roses so it wouldn't take long to find them. That would help a ton as the two of them went to check. Kathryn gave her a wave as she left. "Thank you Victoria!" The party would be split for a time, but they had two important goals to follow up on now, with a plan to meet up after some time passes. "If the other doesn't show up within a half hour of noon, the others should go looking for them under the assumption they need help." If that help was combat, or some kind of injury, having a backup plan was a good idea. "We may check out the Silver Smith and see what's up at that place once we make sure the L'Roses are safe." She figured adding their followup location wouldn't hurt. If things turned out fine then getting some more done while they were out wouldn't hurt.

It was a relief to hear that she didn't look as big as the drunk version of herself told her she was. Watching her put together the miscommunication was cute in a way as she pieced together piece by piece. "Yeah hate to say it Kosara. Bitch is used derogatorily pretty regularly if you're with the right crowd. Someone even called me a bitch once." Kathryn said in an amused tone. Most people didn't call her too many names to her face. Standing almost 7 foot tall and always wearing heavy armor while being very well armed seemed to let most drunkards realize that maybe this specific situation is not worth escalating. Kathryn walked with Kosara enjoying (nearly) every moment of their walk. "Take it easy on poor Rickard, he seems like a nice lad who is just be trying to do the right thing." Kathryn did pick up on some of the stares and comments from people as they walked. It reminded her of the justifications used against her and her family when they were wiped out. "Monsters" "Demons" "Devil spawns". They weren't happy memories. When she looked to her king to to avenge the massacre, not only were those responsible pardoned, they were praised and her own family name shunned. With the odd looks from the locals Kathryn pulled up the armor on her neck into position and put her helmet on. She noticed people didn't bat an eye nearly as harshly to a tall knight in shining armor, at least compared to the insanely tall woman. But even looking through her helmet she could see a chip where she was struck in the face, and rust where the light could reach. Her set didn't have a long life left to it. "Let's hurry up. I don't like this part of town." It was people like these her family used to interact with on a regular basis. And the same people who gave into the horrid rumors about her family once she had nothing.

Finding the place was tricky, she wondered if maybe there was an easier way to find it? She wondered if maybe half the town was designed by the same damn person who really loved their green roofs. Maybe using it as their way to stand out in the building designing community? Either way, it made finding the building hard until they arrived at a sign that said 'Bed and Breakfast'. "Looks good. Guess we could pound on the door until we get a response? Leave if it turns out to not be the place?" And if she suspected the L'Roses were in danger she was confident they could figure something out in the moment. Kathryn walked up covered in head to toe in her heavy worn and rusted armor and gave the door a solid three poundings with her fist to be answered by a short and stout woman who seemed determined to chase them off before the two could get a word in. Thankfully Cecily called out to let them in. Already the day was going well hearing her voice. Kathryn got a chance to see Lizbeth too, and returned her friendly wave. After being let in Kathryn bent over to fit into the doorway, only for her helmet to collide with the doorway, again. "Ow, son of a fuck bucket..." She stepped in taking off her helmet, then realizing her tone was likely not lady like, nor appropriate for children. "My apologizes." She said to the woman, likely the owner, and to the party of guests at the table.

Kathryn eyed the food on the table for a moment, remembering skipping dinner last night, and skipping breakfast this morning. Both under the assumption she had gained visible weight from beer and bacon. Knowing that wasn't the case now she was tempted to ask to have some of the breakfast, though held off attempting to show restraint after her failed attempt to do so just now. "Cecily, Lizbeth, how are you two doing? We wanted to stop in and check on you. Make sure you both were okay." She wanted to ask more detailed questions. If they felt they were being watched, followed, if anything weird happened. But after hearing about the Constable and Roberts from the morning she really didn't want to chance rumors spreading more then they already were.

Kathryn took a moment to look around the establishment. It reminded her of home a bit. The room had a comparable feeling to that of her family's keep. At least on the inside. She had seen the inside of other castles and keeps, and most she saw were designed with military fortifications and political organization in mind while the family rooms were kept as far out of the way as possible. Which in a smaller keep was harder to pull off. Many times forcing family and government rooms to coexist. Her home did a good job of it, and even when her father worked it felt like a home environment just having company over for dinner. Today pulled a lot of memories for Kathryn already. In this case it was a nice reminder, and she got to enjoy the memories this time.

Marita entered the Public House to find it mostly empty, as to be expected from a night of heavy drinking and partying. As distasteful as such behavior was, it did make things much easier for her, both insofar as having a measure of privacy as well as simply getting to the people she needed to talk to. She followed behind Victoria to Rickard's table and followed along with their conversation, but did not seat herself along with the others.

"I think I heard about that too," she said in response to the elf, "Youelle Brightcobble I believe her name was. I'm not sure if a dressmaker would be awake at this hour. At least not where we'd be able to access them. So if we talk to them, it might be best to do that a bit later in the day. Excuse me for a moment."

The Cleric took the moment to separate herself from the table. She waved over at Lea and tried to smile to the server personably. What came out ended up looking more like a snarl than anything. Ignorant of this, Marita made her way over to the barmaid and pulled her off to the side.

"There's a few things I need to ask you about," she spoke in a hushed tone, using her hand to block her words from any would-be eavesdroppers that may still be around. "You remember that conversation about Audrey last night? Well my compatriot said she started feeling the same way after she left the graveyard yesterday. Do you remember if Audrey had any business around there, or if she did something out of the ordinary before her paranoia kicked in? I'm starting to worried that place might be haunted." That last sentence was entirely fictional, but she wanted to at least give Lea the plausible deniability that everything they had talked about as far as the disappearing cases went was simply gossip between acquaintances. If the Constable truly wanted to crack down on outsiders and anyone looking into this mystery, the last thing she wanted was to get anyone in trouble when they didn't know what they were getting into.

"My, but you're all business, aren't you?" mused Victoria, responding to Rickard. "All I said was 'here we are', and that... Hmm." Phrasing such as this might have been used with venom in intent, but nary a trace of it has to be seen on her face. The opposite, really; she seemed attentive and interested in what he had to say. "Well, no matter. Pleasantries aside, productive conversation over a light breakfast is not the worst thing to have happen."

Victoria's food arrived at this time, owing to the very simple nature of her selection, which she began to nibble on thoughtfully. Bread, butter, fruit, tea. She gave a listen to Marita's thoughts on the dressmaker's daughter, or more specifically, putting off speaking to her for a couple hours. The Bard agreed with a shrug. "It's too early for much of anything to be open right now. Well, excepting a place like this that rents beds and serves breakfast." The unspoken part of that thought was that this place and others like it also cater to a working class demographic, and as such made for early risers.

Another thought secondary to this one floated into her forebrain, and this one she expressed. "In truth, I am feeling stagnant. The sooner this gets underway, the better, so far as I am concerned. If we must wait another couple of hours before approaching the dressmaker, I would rather do something than not." Victoria daintily tore away a piece of bread from the small loaf she had been given and applied a rich dollop of butter to it. She motioned with it to Marita, who had gone to have her discussion with the barmaid, Lea (with whom the talented Bard made sure to avoid unnecessary eye contact, for reason all her own), and mentioned, "My colleague seems to have established a rapport with one of the locals."

A wistful smile and bite of bread later, she continued, "I'm not the keenest investigative mind. More of a 'people person', but if we have the time I would not mind taking a look at this other place. If it is related to our plight, of course." Victoria had no reason to think that it did not. The people were a little tight-lipped with Sheriff Arbalest; it stood to reason that some things never got communicated. As a passing fancy, Victoria considered that she wouldn't mind going back to check out The Honey Barn either, provided she could find some excuse that gave it any sort of connection to their actual job here in Avonshire.

With Victoria's bread down, she turned her attention to the fruit she was given. The pear she had eaten the previous day was amazingly sweet and she was hoping to recreate the experience today, but looking at the quality of the ones in this establishment, the apples were preferable. Still, she found it to be fragrant and juicy, tart, firm (but yielding), and was its own tiny adventure. She was a Bard from a College that put emphasis on death and necromantic study, yet took immense value in the tiny details that gave life color. Perhaps it was irony. Then again, to her philosophy, the two concepts gave each other sharper meaning. Perhaps it was why she walked the path of neutrality, as differing from the people with whom she currently associated.

Then Victoria realized that she was practicing inexpert philosophy over an apple and stopped posthaste. She finished her breakfast with impeccable manners, befitting a lady of her position, and gave her steadfast companion Morty a pat on his hickory-smoked noggin. "I'm game. Where shall we start first?"

He nodded in response to Victoria's sentiment. Being idle with something like this investigation was troubling for him.  The longer he had to wait the more likely he would be unable to find Samuel alive if at all. Victoria however seemed to present that she was more of a people person. That could be favorable as Rickard, while being a people person of sorts, did lack some skill in getting information from the locals. "I do apologize for my forthright manner. I am eager to get this investigation going. However yesterday only yielded minimal results and being insulted twice. It was a bit frustrating but nevertheless today is a new day. Hopefully something can be found that will progress the search."

Marita seemed to have heard about the dressmaker's daughter as well as having developed a connection with the server here. The point that she brought up was astute in that the dressmaker was likely not open yet. With slightly more limited options it looked like it may be better to check the workshop again, or perhaps the silversmiths shop. The elven man took another bit of the smoked pork and bread, considering the options. "Well the workshop is on the west side of town. The dressmaker..." a frown darkened Rickard's expression. He had forgotten where the dressmaker was. That or he had forgotten to ask the whereabouts of their shop. "I suppose in my haste to start this investigation I had forgotten to ask where the dressmaker's shop was. If it is close to Samuel's shop, I would suggest we start at the wood working shop. Hopefully you or your companion might find something I missed. Are there any particular areas you think might have a better potential for leads?" He finished the last of his open faced sandwich with another of the eggs that were brought to the table. Another sip of tea washed it all down and Rickard sat back in his chair, waiting for the purple bard and her cleric companion to respond.

Kosara proudly and seemingly completely unconcerned strode forward to their destination, without care in the world. The whispers of the townfolk unheard or not cared about as she did so. In this specific case Kosara had absolutely no care in the world, not listening in as she did. She was used to stares, usually it was stared from different nature by people when she was dancing. Here it was the stares more in line with what she was noting once she began traveling. People really had some weird opinions she had no understanding about. The white tiefling had no idea why some people didn’t like her kind. Was it the horns? Were all the people just jealous of the horns? It could have been, Grandpa had taught her that humans especially were greedy by nature and would covet what they did not have. Seemingly horns and tusks of creatures were among those too. Well in any case, she was just used to all kinds of stares to care. Anybody tried anything and she’d return in kind, but just stares did not break bones and all that. Besides let them stare, she did like the attention. A dancer enjoyed the people’s eyes no matter the reason… probably. At least Kosara did. She was even pondering giving a sudden unplanned performance for the locals in this richer part of town… that was divided by a street from the regular part of town. Northerners were weird folk.

“ Don’t worry! Let them stare even more! Stares and whispers cannot break your bones. Besides for a performer all attention is good attention! A traveling bard taught me that.” Kosara proudly stuck out her chest even more in what was probably an approximation of heroic proud stance of self confidence in her mind.” If we had more time I would do a performance for them all, but we are kind of on a task, so I guess no dances for them. Maybe later! Besides if they look at me long enough and see me perform they might like me afterwards! People seem to like me a lot more after they've seen me dance.” She smiled.

After a while they finally reached their destination! She looked at Kathryn who posed a question and nodded eagerly.” Sure! We can apologize later if we got the wrong place. Got to be polite.” She added with a grin as she watched the warrior woman go ahead and proceed to knock on the door a few times until eventually somebody opened the door.”Hi, Mrs Cuvier! I’m Kosara!” She greeted the woman in turn as the owner of the place( probably), wanted to send them away until a familiar voice was heard from within. Sure enough Cecily and Lizbeth were inside! She finally spotted them at a table and gave them a wave with one arm from around Mrs Cuvier and when the woman finally allowed them in, Kosara bolted inside.

“Mrs Cecily, Lizbeth, good to see you again!” She greeted energetically as she made her way over to the table. Only to stop at the sound of metal hitting something from the door. She looked at Kathryn who probably had her helmet hit the door and snickered. On the good part of it, one helmet was taken off and Kosara called that a pure gain. Afterwards she proceeded to give the two women quick hugs as greetings.

With the warrior finally joined them at the table, she smiled at the two again and nodded at Kathryn’s words.” Yeah, we were worried something might have happened to you two.” She leaned in closer and said in quiet voice to Cecily.” Mr. Cravenfish was seemingly searching for you two last night. We taught it suspicious, have you felt uncomfortable since yesterday? We think people are being stalked, feeling like they are being watched. That happened to you two?” She directly spoke and asked, because tact was a hard thing to do and Kosara didn’t have the attention span to spare and prolong the questioning. Better ask directly!

Kosara's reassurances were a bit reassuring, though it didn't make Kathryn feel confident in her situation. "Thanks Kosara, but I'm not a performer. Or a bard, or anyone who benefits from... This kind of attention." Though Kosara's words were correct, the stares wouldn't break her bones or pierce her skin, they could shatter hearts. They could crush your will depending who they were from. To her, they reminded her of when she had to plead for someone to care what happened to her family, and the best reactions she got were those stares. The stares of those looking upon her with disbelief, confusion, fear and concern. There were people who tried to do worse, but those looks hurt more than the words of those who had already decided she was in the wrong. Had Ser Lucas not been present she's not sure what she would have done, what she could have done. But those times were in the past, and those people were out of her life now. She did have to admit though, Kosara's positivity was contagious. "I'm sure once they get to know us better they'll all be fine and lovely people."

Kathryn was very surprised though at Kosara's directness of their mission. She eyed the other patrons checking them for reactions to Kosara's comments. On the plus side, things would be moving at a good pace. Though she worried that word may get back to the Constable about their true intentions here. Last thing they needed was Mr. Cravenfish on them. She paused her mental thoughts, realizing she was starting to do the same thing as Kosara was doing. Mr Cavendish. If she wasn't careful she'd find herself using that nickname on him next time they spoke. Between her distracted thoughts on the Name Kosara gave their constable, and the fact she had skipped breakfast and dinner last night in replacement for booze, she hadn't been able to pick up anything. Assuming there was something outside the casual interest of being the main conversation in the room. "What Kosara said, we wanted to make sure you're both doing okay. Things can get crazy nowadays and after the stuff that happened yesterday we wanted to be sure everything was fine. Is there anything you need from us?" Her thoughts went back to the goblins and their brand new weapons. Weapons of higher quality than what she possessed. Not that it was a hard bar to beat, but much of her gear was considered decent quality, just showing it's age rather harshly. They were all called up to deal with a non existent goblin problem, then not only does one show up, a well armed and clearly well paid problem showed up. She wondered if it was just a coincidence or if the goblins were related. But due to the attack yesterday, it did make a perfect cover. So perfect... She decided before the week was out, figuring out what the goblins were up too was on her priority list as well.

Weather: Partly cloudy, wind picking up a little. a chill still lingering in the air. The temperature is not described as "comfortable" by most. It would be charitable to say that it is brisk; coupled with the ambient moisture things would go a lot easier for folks wearing a decent jacket. In any case, it is much more tolerable than it was the previous night.

Time: Morning! People are being a tad more active now.

Ambience: The sun hangs a little brighter now, banishing most of the fog from the previous number of hours. It exists almost exclusively as a vague whiteness in the background. Folks are stirring, and not just the earliest of risers anymore. Be it that there might very well be a number of persons nursing hangovers of various depths and qualities, most of those being out-of-towners, there are a reasonable numbers of locals who are seeing to their own needs before opening their shops and other businesses to the public. People who live in town and work in the may surrounding farms have pretty much cleared out, as it would be with every notable settlement in an agricultural region. A wind cut in from the west, bearing with it the scent of smoke and roasting pork. It seemed that the gentlefolk who are competing for best hog-broil are still at it, and have yet to let up on their extremely slow but steady cooking techniques.



Lea and Marita involved themselves in a short conversation. This was overheard by Robert, still at the bar and still trying hard to be left to his own business. The proprietor turned his head just enough to get a view of Lea and the work she had accomplished so far, and satisfied that his employee was adequately keeping up with her duties regardless of conversation, turned back around. His breakfast is finished, bowl sitting empty in front of him. His ale now takes his attention.

In contrast to many places which might be getting more business, The Public House is actually losing walk-in business. They didn't have but a few in there to begin with, and now there are only two tables with two people each, not including the soon to be vacated table at which Ricard and Victoria are seated. None of those present appear to need anything from Lea or from behind the bar, having been taken care of just earlier. This might be subject to change soon, as the relative quiet of the taproom is marred by movement from in the common sleeping room. People are starting to wake up, and they will want things.

About the same time, the scent of freshly brewed tea issued from the kitchen area, mingled with another batch of bread. Daisy is keeping herself busy, obviously, and has decent anticipation of the coming rush of people, however minor it might be. Sure enough, the common room door swung slowly open to admit a single, hungover gentleman with a zombie-like gait. He squints at the difference in brightness, shielding his eyes for a moment before a sudden sensory indication had him tearing out of the door nearest the exterior privy. More promised to enter the room shortly.


The walk to the woodworking shop was not so bad. It wasn't a very large town after all, even though their destination was in the northwest quadrant, opposite of Neil & Bob's. As with Kosara and Kathryn, there are townsfolk who stop and give a stare in the direction of the Elf and Half-Elf, rare enough sights in these parts, as they pass by. One fellow said nothing, but gave a long, concentrated look as he emptied a bucket of something-or-other into one of the regular openings to the Township's storm drains.

One couple was obvious in action, moving to put themselves between their young child and the two adventurers. The presence of the walking feast centerpiece that was Morty probably didn't help matters any. It surely didn't help when an older lady carrying a basket stopped to have a short conversation with one of the few town guards under the Constable's employ, pointing in their general direction somewhere in the middle of it. But in the end, no one approached Rickard and Victoria directly. The moment was left with questions, whispers, and bits of rumor circulating rather than anything of substance.

Approaching the woodworker's shop, things were a little quieter. The owner must have expected to make a fair amount of noise on occasion while plying his craft, and so the building selected for their purposes was a bit back from the main thoroughfare, nearer to the wall. The building itself is constructed of stone, for the most part, and from the outside has the appearance of a warehouse with a small barn attached to it. There is an entrance at the "barn", as well as larger, cargo styled doors toward the front of the warehouse section.

The door, unlocked, opens without so much as single creaking protest.

Inside, one can see that the "barn" area is actually an attached workshop, open to the main building. Here one can see the signs of work recently being done to a bed frame, specifically a forest scene a little over helfway carved into it. Tools, unworked wood, projects in progress, and the like, are kept here.

There are decently sized windows here to let in the light of day, and brass candleholders besides this if one's work took them into the evening. A single set of stairs led to the upper level, which mostly consisted of of a modest living area and a walk made of wooden beams overlooking the production area and the warehouse storage toward the front. The place has the look of a showroom as well as a workshop; a place where things are sold, repaired, and crafted, all under one roof.

Everything seems quiet and still in this place. No noise from the street disturbs this quiet; possibly because of the stone walls and interior wooden features, possibly because it isn't very busy inside. Or some mix of both.



The Silversmith's place stands exactly as it did when Kosara and Kathryn saw it the day before. It is a building just off of the main thoroughfare, standing apart from the others to provide a bit of privacy (from the street, if not the other buildings around it) were one to find their way around to the side or back. The front door is shut tightly, bearing a sign that clearly reads "Closed For Festival". You aren't sure if that was there before or not. There are two decently sized windows on the front of this shop, both of which are boarded up from the inside. Short steps lead up to the front door.

A quick scout around the building itself shows that the two windows in the front are the only windows on the building, as far as you can tell. There is a back door, however. It looks almost identical to the front, minus the sign. Everything seems very subdued and shut tightly. As this building is on the main street and near the river, it is very open to be view by the public.

Kathryn notices one rather off detail: through a small gap in the boards on one of the front windows, the party's resident "Half-Giant" can barely make out a dim, orange glow. It is so difficult to pick out at first that she doesn't even realize that it is there until a shadow passed across it. Something moved inside of this building.

Lea's response was a little dismissive. "Haunted? No... I mean, I haven't heard anything like that, and it's a pretty small town. You know, or so I hear. No, I remember when she first started to complain about it, she felt like she was being watched or followed or something on her way home from here. If she went by the graveyard, she didn't say."

Marita pursed her lips. She knew that was the likely answer, but it was still rather vexing to not have anything that would immediately be of use to her.

"By any chance, are you going to come back tonight? I wouldn't mind splitting tips again if you were." Marita's gut answer was pulled apart to three different directions at once. The good Samaritan and work ethic in her wanted to say yes; chances were that it would be swamped again and she'd probably need the help. On the other hand, the selfish part of her wanted to throw that offer into the infinite Layers of the Abyss. The stress and feeling of ale-soaked arse was still fresh in her mind and there was no desire to repeat that process over again. Lastly, there was the fact that she might not even have the time to put in a shift and it would be in poor form to make a promise she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep.

"I might be busy with other affairs tonight, but if the opportunity presents itself I'll give this establishment another visit. However, if I'd be able to help you and Daisy out with your duties is not entirely up to me." Marita looked over at Robert. He didn't seem to outright dislike the group, but last night he only appeared to accept her help because they were backed into a corner, she honestly wasn't sure which way he would go when it came to her continuing to act as an unofficial part time employee.

This brief moment thinking about something entirely unrelated gave her brain a key to start connecting some dots. Victoria returning from the graveyard. Audrey returning home from work. Was it the fact of returning from somewhere that instigated the paranoia? There was not enough information there for her to say, but if she saw it crop up a third time it would become a pattern, a lead. Which also reminded her of another question she had been meaning to ask.

"By the way," Marita spoke again, her voice lowering back to a whisper, "do you know about Andre Dufour? I heard that he was the town drunk but he also disappeared as well. Would you happen to know anything about that?" The list did say that he was last seen leaving the tavern. She hoped that meant here. It would make the safety of the public house questionable at best; however, the only other tavern-esque establishment she knew of in this town was The Honey Barn and she would prefer to avoid that shed of decadence entirely.

Before exiting Neil & Bob's, Victoria made it a point to walk over to Marita and quietly intone that the two of them would be headed in the direction of their new associate's friend's business. "The missing fellow he spoke about last night - Brindleton? We're going to investigate there before the Dressmaker's shop opens." She took care to speak barely above that which was necessary to clearly hear from a distance close to the Cleric's ear. Sparing a wink and a shy smile in Lea's direction, Victoria departed. Morty dutifully followed behind, as only her loyal, animated stew ingredient might.

Seeing as the area directly west of Neil & Bob's was the Farmers' Market, and they had toured that area of town already without seeing signs of a carpenter's full work area, it made sense that their journey would take then to a spot they hadn't been to, the northwest quarter of town. To attempt expedience, the Bard utilized the main roads; first north, then a solid left at the big fountain in the town center. It soon became apparent that their presence was gathering attention. Victoria hoped it didn't have too much to do with the display she put on the last night.

Victoria was no stranger to people's whispers and stares. It was pretty much to be taken for granted, though it was interesting to note that many of the same ones who spoke about her in hushed tones, and from afar, would smile longingly at her and engage in some of the most saccharin conversation to her face. Man, woman, or indeterminate middle, it seemed to make no difference. People were duplicitous. Much of this could be shaken off, as from Victoria's experience this was the way of the world, but there was one thing she noticed above the others that morning, which gave her a small shot of adrenaline: A local talking to a guard and pointing in her direction. That stopped the horse in its tracks, so to speak. Not for the Bard herself, though. She was ever the entertainer, recognizing that this was not her cue to cease walking nor make a scene. Practiced nonchalance forced concerns of harassment by the constabulary from reaching her face and she carried on, her and Morty both. It was easier for Morty, being a mindless animation wrapped in utility cloth.

Whatever luck could be had from the situation visited them, as no pursuit was apparent. The walk to the workshop was not eventful, despite her little scare. In contrast to the main streets, there was very little foot traffic here. Victoria hoped that this would be a help, as opposed to a hindrance. A lack of people usually was, to her experience, unless she was in the middle of more professional, musical pursuits. That was not the order of the hour, so, less attention was better.

Victoria was genuinely surprised to see that the door stood unlocked. She spared a glance in Rickard's direction as if to ask him a question, but verbalized nothing. Entry to the location was a foregone conclusion if they were to pursue an investigation, so with a hand on her sword hilt and a song in her heart (as potentially dangerous a proposition as an archer notching an arrow), Victoria entered.

Her inquisitive eyes adjusted to the differing light conditions and she peered around, taking note of the furniture and tools here. Different styles of furniture were present, one which looked a little more familiar to her than the local goods. She noted the short stairway, and the overlooking walk. Victoria noticed a great many things during her initial walkaround, most of which she kept to herself for the moment. She did bring one fact she had gleaned from the building's interior, "This place... It looks like someone tried to clean it up recently. Badly." Sure enough, there were recent sweeping marks in the work area and the floor around it, marred dust of the regular and saw varieties, and things put away put not quite with perfect placement. "This looks like a petulant child was told to clean his room, and intentionally did a poor job to end the task quickly." What this element meant, if anything at all, could not be sussed out immediately by Victoria.

And Morty ...just kind of stood there.

The poor woman who managed the bed and breakfast seemed a little hesitant to let the due in. Kathryn wondered if it had something to do with the rumors from last night? Or if there was something else worrying the woman about letting in a fully armored half giant and an energetic tiefling? She wasn't sure but Kathryn was glad to be in the safety of the indoors. Kosara's description of the Constable took a while for others to catch on, but the point did get across. Though Kosora's direct questioning also helped speed things along rather well.

When "Cravenfish" is mentioned, there is a little confusion until the elder Mrs. L'Rose figures it out. "Oh, you mean the Constable! I haven't a reason why that should be suspicious. He is likely following up on the Goblin Incident you and your friends helped us with. Thank you for letting me know. I'm sure it will be fine." Her words are optimistic but tired.
When asked about any feelings of paranoia, Cecily lowered her voice and moved from the table, as if to keep her niece from easily overhearing, "Oh, it's nothing really." Her voice was quieter, mentioning, "I didn't want to alarm Lizbeth, but something did seem a little off last night. She didn't seem to notice anything, and I figured it was the heavy fog and ...and attack from earlier." She goes on to mention that she feels okay now, and they have decided to stick around for the festival. They both intend to do a little shopping later, maybe take in a performance later that evening, but will mostly keep around the B&B for the day. "Oh, but I have no intention of setting foot outside the Township's walls. No ma'am."

Throughout all this, Lizbeth is acting very bubbly and cramming her mouth full of scones and other breakfasty tidbits. She doesn't contribute to the conversation, but will respond pleasantly and appropriately if directly conversed with. She just seems very into her breakfast, like she hadn't eaten in a while and finally got an appetite.

Kathryn was glad to hear that the two would be keeping safe as they could for the time being. Kathryn walked up to the young girl, worried for Lizbeth. "Get enough? You're eating enough for the two of us." She tried to come across in a joking manner, but she was worried. The girl had gone through a lot in the last day and Kathryn wasn't sure how to make sure she was okay. "I'm okay! Just hungry." The girl looked beat, and out of it. And was only now beginning the process of bouncing back. Kathryn chuckled her reply to keep moods as high as she could. "Make sure to save room for greens Lizbeth. A balanced diet will help you get big and strong." Kathryn did a mock flex of her arm, which in her armor wasn't much but the point was fun to bring up anyways. Though she was also a bit of a hypocrite there. Though she did have her fair share of greens growing up, a large portion of her diet in the last year or so consisted of mostly meats, potatoes, and alcohols. With some bread to wash it down. So maybe she wasn't the best example and she had the benefit of favorable genetics on her side. That didn't mean she shouldn't try to steer this kid on the right path?

As it was time to leave, and time to wrap up their house call, Kathryn looked back over to Cecile, and worry came back over her. Kathryn walked up to the woman who was considerably smaller by comparison. "Hey Cecile?" Kathryn walked up to the woman, undoing a clamp on her belt. Hanging off the open belt was likely the best conditioned item on Kathryn's person, a newer looking hand axe in a used but still good conditioned leather sheath. Kathryn handed it to Cecile with a look of concern on her face. She then spoke quietly in a concerned tone. "Just in case. Things are getting... concerning." Cecile had a look on her face like the whole thing must of been a joke, but Kathryn's expression didn't change. She took the axe with little word. "It's a belted clamp so... it'll fit on most belts... And just... Be safe. It's just... in case." She wished she was better at comforting people. It was one of her weaker areas. "If ya need anything, you know where to find us." She spoke in a more cheerful tone. "Hoping to wrap this up quick so things can go back to normal soon." She was worried much more was at play than what met the eyes.

Kathryn left with Kosara to the Silver Smith's. Once there, the place was still boarded up, and sealed. From the inside may have been her biggest advantage. If she Had to force her way in, she was more confident in pushing in wood boards with the nails facing away from her than towards her. While looking into the cracks between the boards, she spotted... something. No, someone. A silhouette from some sort revealed by an orange glow from inside the room. "Someone's in there. I say we knock." Expecting the energetic tiefling would also want to participate. "Same time?" Kathryn said stepping to the side, but in a way where she could start pounding the door with her steel plated fist the moment Kosara started.