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[h2][color=darkorchid][i][b]Victoria Belmont[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=9932cc]Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5[/color][/b][/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 33 / 33	[color=9932cc][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 15	[color=9932cc][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Southbound Road -> Laurent Farmland
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] [i]Skill Check[/i] (Investigation) 
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] [color=black][b]Morty![/b][/color]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/pvV54tD/Victoria-Alt-4-2.png[/img][/right]
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	It was lightly amusing to hear her Dragonborn companion address Morty in a somewhat formal manner, petitioning him to look after the wheel stops. Victoria imagined that she rather looked like that, herself, when she spoke to her animated porcine assistant. She had to admit to herself that it wasn't [i]entirely[/i] normal, even amongst her peers in the Grey Requiem, to use their signature ability in quite this way. Most of them opted to handle things much more subtly, as opposed to her far more utilitarian view on the ability. Not that she had a multitude of peers in this regard with which to debate said topic. 

        Victoria was pleased to note that the wagon was moving along in such a way that did not make her fear for her safety, which was an immediate improvement from Baronfjord's last attempt. In fact, after a bit of time and only occasional nudging or demonstration, she felt comfortable enough to fetch up her violin and ease into a bit of traveling music. Humble but hopeful notes flew with practiced talent from her instrument, courteously played at a volume that allowed for its appreciation without unduly interrupting conversation around her. Travel through more-or-less safe, uncontested land was much more enjoyable with a touch of music, at least to her (occasionally) humble opinion. 

	Every so often, when the cart was traveling along a straight and even part of the road, Victoria's raven flew from its perch atop the wagon. Sometimes with an attention-grabbing call, sometimes not, but always with a smile and sudden distant look from Victoria. It was a little dizzying to experience the world through the senses of a creature in flight, especially when one was sitting on the driver's bench of a moving wagon, so Victoria took leave to grasp her seat with one hand to steady herself when she took these little jaunts with her Familiar. As wonderful as it was, this was something to which she would have to become accustomed. 

	The sporadic music Victoria played came to a cease as the first wagon, the Mosswaters', turned off of the main road and down to the site of the sheep massacre. The time it took to get to the Laurent Farm was spent paying as good of attention to her surroundings as she might while still attempting to teach her latest pupil the wonder and majesty of overland vehicle operation. As they neared the scene, the Bard braced for sights of blood and violence, or perhaps even the guilty party returning like she read about in the mysterious tales of her younger years. Oddly, she saw none of these. It prompted her to, after the wagon came to a halt, dismount and take a closer look at the scene. 

	It was a general glance around; an attempt to take in as many details as she could and piece together a story, as best she could. Carefully, Victoria walked out to the edge of the field and took it all in. There were bits of blood present every now and again, but not so much as to support the story that sheep were getting ripped limb from limb. The grain left upon the ground - the gleanings - were present withing the folded, post-harvest stalks further int he field but not around the ground closest to them, in the open. And there were curious mounds and dips of earth along the ground out in the open, barely noticeable unless one *really* looked for them. And of course, no sheep carcasses. Or even parts of them. So whatever did this, in fact, [i]did come back.[/i] And might still be in the area. 

	Victoria allowed a mild look of alarm to cross her features before smoothing them back over, But she did clear her throat, ready to sing a bar or two if necessary. A quiet hiss of steel accompanied the drawing of her sword. In the same motion, Victoria undid her purple-lined, charcoal colored cloak's clasp with her other hand and twirled it over the rail fence nearby. It was cold still, but she greatly preferred the ease of movement *just in case*. Her raven took to the air, circling above as if reviewing carrion. Simultaneously, the sound of shuffling in the back of the wagon could be heard as Morty came to sudden animation, a mental command passed from its master to make itself close and available. Something seemed off here, and while Victoria couldn't tell for certain what it was, she knew enough to be wary.