“Right away!” Kosara merrily replied as she proceeded to almost hop over to the mule that was pulling their humble transport. Now it had to be said that the white tiefling was very much liking anything that had to do with horses too. What with her Grandpa, so she liked and respected them. That and everything that lived their lives helping people even if it was helping them pulling their luggage, deserved respect.

“Hello, mister mule. Let’s see if all is well, yes?” She ashed him with a smile pulling some dried fruits from her rations in her bag, offering them to the small horse-like being. Mules were… a curious breed indeed.” It’s good, right? Alright, let’s see...” She mused as she began checking up the the creature of burden. Make sure it wasn’t being bound too tight by the harness that tied him to the wagon, make sure there weren’t any bruising or injuries that might have occurred. Once she was sufficiently sure in her evaluation she gave the mule a few more dried fruits and let it graze on the grass if it wanted.” Mister mule’s right fine! Though he would deserve a nice bag of animal feed once we arrive.” She reported as she returned back to the others.

“So… where’s the meat?” She asked, with metaphorical stars in her eyes, looking at V.” Is it of Morty fame?” She got a bit curious if it was what remained of the party mascot. Which was fine, a walking undead pig made out of preserved foodstuffs, this was it’s destiny!

“I’ve not eaten broth, but I did try some proper soup a few times while I was traveling. Seemed nice. At least not when it was too thin though. I mean… why waste perfectly good water on something like that?” She inquired with curious voice and pulled a partially unwrapped ration from her bag. Her eyes moved to the knightly friend who was requesting booze.” Need it chilled afterwards?” She asked with a smile.

She looked back to V who apparently decided to test her connection with her familiar and was using it too look from it’s eyes. Did it have eyes? Hmmm… She shook her head and looked back to V who returned to local awareness.” Well, what we should prepare for is lunch! Events come after. Hunger is often the enemy.” Kosara offered her peace of opinion and made herself comfortable as she pulled some dried bread from the ration. She tried to bite into it, only to cringe and eye it with utmost distrust and hatred. So she pulled her waterskin to get it a bit wet so it’s easier to bit off. She also did a bit of prestidigitation to give it a bit more flavor than soggy bread.

After a grimace at Kosaras apparent enthusiasm to eat the Morty Meat, he had to agree with her opinions on soups and broth. While Ration Broth could keep you going for an extra day or two it wasn't recommended or desirable. Soup, however, was a very different story but it was much less suitable as a travelling meal.

“May I ask as to what magic trick you performed? I hate to think of you in any sort of pain while eating, Lady Kathryn. Food may be one of many joys in life but it is a substantial one.” He was side on to the little ‘table’ the flat-enough rocks had formed and had founds a somewhat comfortable patch of moss to recline upon. With his elbow still resting upon the rock he gestured to his own little spread on simple cloth wrappings each with chunks unceremoniously ripped out of them. “Some cheese, meat and bread purchased from the market. It is rather delicious and you are more than welcome to it.”

His eyebrows flew upwards as Victoria described, near shouted, her flying experience. He eyes snapping between Victoria standing and laughing like a madwoman, and up to the dark shape of the raven up above them. BlackBerry himself was enraptured by this display watching with a grin at the crow bank and soar above them.

Oh to be as free as a bird and see the countryside lain out below.

His mood though quickly soured as Victoria described, again nearly shouting, the scene she saw. BlackBerry frowned at the idea of lunch being cut short and without even being able to sample the tasty looking jam he had bought. He then shook his head as he stood up.

“Let us hope that they are not looking for trouble from ones such as ourselves.” Shielding his eyes he squinted down the road towards the oncoming group trying without much luck to pick out the details Victoria described, he even tried taking a few steps forward onto the road again to get a better view. “Ten against four, armed with nought but farming equipment and bows. If it were to come to blows I would not be backing them.” A self indulgent chuckle sneaked out from his lips.

For a few moments BlackBerry was silent as he thought. Shifting side to side, foot to foot, corralling grim thoughts and worries into order. Then he clicked his tongue several times as the thoughts came conclusion. In his experience, other travellers were just as likely to be a boon, offering company or even supplies if you got along with them, as they were to be a hindrance, by stealing your things while you sleep and waking you up with a good kick in the teeth. BlackBerry rubbed his jaw as he turned back to the others.

“May I suggest we act in prudence; there are any number of reasons a group may travel in anger so let us not jump to conclusions just yet or act rashly. That said, Miss Cecily and Young Lizbeth should seek refuge in the wagon, out of sight and mention, until the group has passed or we have ascertained their destination and intentions. Best be on our guard until then also.” BlackBerry wasted little time packing his meal back into his bag and placing it in the back of the party's wagon. “Gods willing they are simply suffering from poor luck and temperament at this time.”

Kathryn had won. Now that the mission was over, she was allowed to drink as much as she wanted as long as she could still move under her own power. Or at least had a spot she could collapse too. Or until she did something comically regrettable... But as that was not now! It was a win. Kathryn watched as V carefully and deliberately picked out a bottle. Kathryn figured with the smaller woman being so well versed in that style of life she must have a good enough understanding of the drink to pick one for any occasion! She wondered what the thought process could be under that hat. Kathryn gracefully accepted the wine, and made a mental note that if she were to ever return to a noble life style she should probably go to V for some refreshers on the best dos and don'ts. As Kathryn was very much out of practice in that matter. "Thank you so much Victoria." Kathryn said with a smile as she delicately took the bottle. Gave it a brief pondering look, before removing the seal around the cork, taking off her glove and pinching the end of the cork with her fingers to get a grip. Slowly pulling the cork out little by little, the ends of it splitting as she tugged. And once it was out enough for a little more than a finger to grip it, she took it in her fist and yanked the cork off. "There we go. Fucker put up a fight." She had never had such problems like with with a beer bottle, so she wasn't totally sure why people preferred the stuff to it. Or whiskey, bourbon, ale, or other liquor. Buuuut she didn't hate the stuff, and going to a winery, might as well get comfortable with the taste.

Kathryn took a swig from the bottle like she would a tankerd of ale, or from a water from a water skin. When Kosara offered to cool it Kathryn perked up. "Can you do that?" Kathryn asked almost bewildered. She knew her tiefling friend could do a lot with magic, but she had no idea what extent she could do. "I mean if it's no bother, I would love that!" Kathryn would hold the wine bottle out to see whatever trick Kosara had up her... Lack of sleeves. Despite Kathryn's lack of understanding of most things arcane, she found herself extraordinarily fascinated with it. Even the tricks she had picked up recently were far from anything as fancy as she had read about from old adventuring stories. She wasn't even sure it was considered the same kind of magic as the rest of the party was capable of practicing. Speaking of which, Blackberry had asked about some of the tricks Kathryn had picked up. Kathryn lit up with glee, like that of an excited child about to show off their school project. "Okay. Okay okay okay." she spoke up trying to hide just how excited she was, and failing. "So, in some of the books Victoria has had her face glued too for the last few days, she found some notes on Runic Magic. Not too different from the old clan magic from my homeland. She claims it's written in Giant, but as it still makes no sense even when translated, I have doubts. But she's the expert so I think her word is better than mine..." Kathryn said a little defeated, but that quickly burned off. "Buuuuuuuut! Some of my schooling from before I left home covered old clan runes. And thought my understanding is flawed, and my schooling was incomplete, I was able to make sense of some of the runes, and have been practicing their abilities! Like uh...." She looked around for something she could show her entry level runic magic against, but much of it was rather destructive, or so passive it really couldn't be made into a show.

"Okay so I can't do all the cool flashy things here without causing some major problems..." She said, sounding defeated yet again. But perked up. "One I tried to do was one that could essentially turn me into a giant! At least... for a moment. If... I could get it to work right." She said disappointed, but not defeated. "Last time I made it to nearly ten feet! Then uh... puked my guts out all over the road way... where it sat glowing for a bit before I fell into a deep sleep inside the barn... I think I messed up a few things there because I don't think I returned to my original height either. My tunic I wear under my armor hasn't fit right since... And door ways have been so much more of a pain since as well... BUT! I think I am getting closer! And if I can get it to work right once, I think it should return me to my original height as well." Kathryn said optimistically, though she had no basis for this theory. She was just tired or door ways meant for people a lot shorter than she was battling for the same space as her forehead. "I'm not gonna try it again here unless I gotta. Last time made me sick as hell, and I don't also wanna find myself stuck at like... 40 feet tall. I also have been hungry as hell since then. Swear to the gods I could eat a fucking horse right now. Then there is still a lot of guess work as I try to sort out all of this stuff. But sooner or later! I will get it down!" Then there was the question of why the goblins had such magic in their camp. Even if in it's current form at the time it was little more than just notes.

Kathryn watched as V sent her new raven up. And Kathryn had to admit, it was great seeing the small woman get so excited. Even if it confused Kathryn watching V act as if she were the bird. Or... was she? Kathryn looked up at the raven, and back down to V. "Holy shite that's cool." Kathryn mumbled as the raven began to explore around. Kathryn found herself listening intently as she spoke about what she could see. Even mentioning the travelers that were approaching them! Such a super useful skill. Kathryn wasn't sure how she felt about the description V gave. Could mean anything from travelers down on luck, to needing to prepare to defend themselves. Realistically, the first was more likely. Seemed her party was also split on what to do in the coming situation. Kosara wanted to feed them, and Blackberry wanted to prepare for the worst. "I worry about acting as if we are preparing for the worst. If they're already in a poor mood, or on the verge of being hostile, we don't want to provoke or exasperate them. Though He's right, Cecily and Lizbeth, you both should probably get out of the way. I don't much, but I think outright hiding may put them on edge too." Turning to the rest of her party she attempted to list a game plan. "If things to go to a head, I don't think we should focus on fighting. We should try to deescalate, and if need be shock and awe. Give them a spook, and let them either back down or calm down. But I want that option to only be used if we have too. Chances are they are just having a really bad day. But with so many of them, and fairly well armed, I'd rather be prepared too." Kathryn wasn't worried. It didn't show in her posture, nor in her voice. "We're all gonna be friends here." But after how things went a few days ago, she could understand why anyone acting in even a remotely aggressive fashion would put them on edge.

Weather: Partly cloudy, cold. Winds are beginning to pick back up.

Time: A touch after midday. The brighter spot in the overcast sky above the clouds is more or less above the party.

Ambience: The landscape has its own charm, distinctly separate from a lush woodland or adventurous beachside. Low hills undulate out to the horizon with patches of different colors dappling the land in browns, greens, and unexpected florals which hug tightly to the ground. Copses of trees are a little more sparse here than the idyllic setting around the Avonshire Township, which only makes them easier to pick out in the distance. The river, as always, winds to and from the road in a more meandering path, occasionally making its presence known by a light, watery murmuring. If it were a little warmer, one would be utterly surrounded by excellent spots for a picnic.



Knowledge of some several people in your general vicinity, mostly on smaller, connecting paths to the main, does not really blunt the stark difference present in the determined stride of the group coming up from the south. If the information passed along via raven is accurate, there may be a touch of negativity present in the Moors of Avonshire. But this is not to be a certainty for a bit of time yet.

The group in the distance dips out of sight behind the rise of a lower hill. It is credible that this is not an act of deception so much as it is the natural progression of one following the lay of the main road. In any case, conservative estimates give them a bit of time before the groups meet.

Cecily gave only a cursory glance in the direction of the others on the road, apparently not paying it a lot of mind. She did give a response to Baronfjord's assessment of her pie, once it crystalized in her head that he was speaking to her. In truth, she seemed distracted. "Sharp nose, Mr. Chedgusah. But no, it is not my recipe at all. I bought it back in the Township just this morning." It was a small pie, just large enough for one as a meal or two, if side items made an appearance on the plate. "Plenty of sheep and shepherds off the beaten path down in the Moors that have good recipes for a lamb and onion pie, if you want me to introduce you while you're with us."

The continued possibility of drama gave Lizbeth a restless look. Duties done, she risked a quick smile and word or two in Kathryn's direction for the help, and returned to her aunt for lunch. Before finding someplace quiet with her half of the pie, the little girl climbed the side of the wagon and risked a look. "Where? Oh, there. Still a while off. We have time to eat." she said flatly. But the fact that she was talking was an improvement, and testament to the resilience of children.

Both of the L'Roses listened to the monologue from Kathryn and froze in their positions, with food halfway to their mouthes and an odd expression. Far be it for any of them to pass judgement on those who saved their lives, limbs, and sanity in the face of overwhelming dark magic and wererat-ery, but it was not quite the casual lunch conversation to which they were accustomed. Their previous lives seemed like they were so very long ago, now that they had been introduced to some of the more dangerous things of their realm. A touch of strange conversation at mealtime was expected, apparently. Once lunch was done, however, they did hitch their oxen back to the wagon and hop on board, per suggestion of their impromptu bodyguards.

There was indeed time to see to one's meal, so long as it was taken cold, and get ready to leave by the time the other wagon was clear and visible. Within shouting distance, even. And shout they did - or one of the Halflings driving the wagon did, at any rate. "HO THERE!" came the bellow, louder than one might expect from one of the shorter folk. "IS THAT YOU, MADAME L'ROSE?" The wagon and the irregularly armed Humans drew closer. At about stone-throwing distance, they stopped. "Ho there! We head for the Township in hopes that Constable Cavendish can get some guards out our way! Farmer Laurent's sheep have been massacred, and the last of the gleanings cannot be done for fear of the workers' safety! We need help. Really soon."

Kosara ate her packed ration with bland expression for the most part. She didn’t like the hard bread it had… It wasn’t nice. It was probably going to be more acceptable if it had something else… a sauce mayhaps? Yes a sauce would do well to give it some pleasant taste and maybe get rid of some of the hardness that she was dealing with water. All in all she would give the bread in the ration a low 3/10. She supposed hard dried bread was long lasting or something, but still.

“Sure.” She quipped and reached over to the bottle of alcohol that Kathryn had and with a quick use of prestidigitation chilled it down even more to a nice comfortable cooler temperature. Well comfortable for hot climates, but the resident half giant was free to drink her drink however cold she wished to! Kosara smiled and returned to her ration and the dried meat it had in it, listening to Kathryn’s magical exploits.” Ohhh, even bigger, Kathryn.” She blinked at her in amazement before looking at something above the warrior woman’s head, clearly trying to imagine how she would look like if she was even bigger.” Does your body change in any way in proportions?” She curiously asked.

Her eating pace sped up a tiny bit after that to devour a few more mouthfuls, her cheeks at one point comically full before she washed it down with water because the hard bread just refused to go down without a fight. Thus in that moment she swore to find a way to deal with it eventually. Maybe turn it into mush by soaking it in water first… but that would be kinda unpleasant to eat.” Hmmm...” She made a pondering sound. That was a good topic to ponder indeed!

When the unknown travelers got closer they revealed themselves as not so unknown ones, at least for the L’Roses’ anyways.” HELLO!!!!!!!!!” Kosara called loudly back with energetic waving of her hands. Both of them, for good measure. She listened to their words and heard their plea. Apparently they were in danger too. Weird, she turned to the L’Roses.” How close are they to the winery?” She asked, looking at their guides and future hosts.

“Meany Cavendish is gone! He was a monster in disguise. Was very mean and tried to kill a lot of people in Avonshire with his monstrous army of monster rats. They were very mean and ugly too! Not exactly sure who killed him though… It was a heroic adventurous story worthy event in the middle of town. There was fire, rain, monsters, pain… cages with innocent citizens… and a sea of rats! Also ratmen and huge undead rat monsters that could snap me in half like a twig! They all dealt with though.” She called back in explanation.” You can try Arbalest the Sheriff who is apparently not an arbalest, still not sure how that works. He should be in Avonshire still or at least his people should be. Anyways, the sheriff should be able to help! Also we killed some goblins a while ago! Maybe it’s goblins?” She suggested and thought about it.

Victoria knew that the other wagon was getting close. Having a literal bird's eye view of it and its occupants let her know that this wasn't a standard group of agricultural folk out for a hayride in less than spectacular weather. It was her instinct to be guarded, mostly because of what she was. Of course, it was also her instinct to be as socially visible as possible. These two concepts sometimes fought with each other. This day, discretion was the more powerful of the two.

A quick mental inquiry confirmed that Morty was still in the wagon, motionless, awaiting order from its animator. A similar one confirmed that her Familiar was in an elevated location, likewise standing by. A tiny, sarcastic part of Victoria wondered if she had enough time to ritually summon her Phantasmal Steed, just to complete her present Necromantic Conjurations set. Then again, it was a spike of morale that recent revelations had allowed her to tap into enough power to now have a set of Necromantic themed summons. The final decision went against initiating the ritual as there wasn't particularly a reason past overhauling. And her steed in its previous form might arouse more suspicion in an already questionable situation.

Nevertheless, as the other wagon aproached on the road, Victoria put on her most personable expression and loosened her sword in its scabbard. Just in case.

Victoria heard the laments of the locals and did sympathize, but opted not to speak on behalf of the L'Roses as the newcomers were addressing Cecily specifically, nor did she wish to be the mouthpiece for her group unless called upon. Then Kosara spoke. Victoria felt whatever control she had over her fate for the next few minutes begin to slip away, like the reins of an uncontrolled warhorse. Her smile and demeanor of goodwill remained, albeit now with the mildest of eyebrow twitches and the occasional worried glance in the Tiefling's direction.

Finally, she spoke. Her words aimed to be supportive as well as informative, hopefully to smooth any potential rough spots in Kosara's delivery. "It is true; the Constable has been responsible for the disappearances, and I fear bartered his soul for madness and power. When he attacked the Township..." Victoria paused for emotional effect, shaking her head slowly, "The wounds he inflicted upon Avonshire and its people will not soon mend, but be assured he shall not do so again."

It was a resolute, if short speech, and Victoria waited with unseen curiosity as to whether it was of help in explanation, or if it moved them further toward an unwanted conflict. She would rather not harm uninvolved local folk if she could help it.

As she held out the bottle of wine, Kosara was able to do... Magic way beyond Kathryn's understanding, and chill it to rather damn cold. Sure, Kathryn probably didn't need it cold in the current temperatures, but she really wanted to see this trick. Curiously and a little cautiously, Kathryn took a sip from the bottle before a smile spread on her face. "Holy shit that's cold." Kathryn blurted out after swallowing the wine. "Taste like someone's stored it in a block of ice for a few years holy shit." Kathryn spoke like a giddy child being told that yes, the magic candy bunny had in fact come and they are your best friend forever. Arcane like magic would always amuse the half giant of a woman. She wondered if in another life she could have learned some of this sort of magic? Maybe if Kathryn had continued to grow up in noble society she could have pick up a few skills, but that was a rough maybe. And only if her prospected husband would allow such forms of magic in the household. She didn't know for sure how accepted arcane magic was. And Runic magic was very hit or miss.

From what she remembered, even the runic magic she was trying to continue her current teaching in wasn't practiced in most houses. Generally only those with more recent ties to the old clans. And even then, many of those houses either stopped practice to fit in better with existing noble houses, or have just forgotten any measurable context of it within recent generations. She had assumed her family fit into one of those categories. Her father's side of the family had been landed knights for many generations, an old traditional family who wanted to rise the ranks, while keeping to traditional Arcanaple cultures. A family of landed knights who less then 100 years prior had become lesser lords. Her Mother's side was far more mixed, clan chieftains marrying in as recent as two generations back, but having noble ties back hundreds of years. Tie ins ranging from mercenary landless knights, to lesser lords who wanted to improve relations with the clans that would come by mountain or sea. Her mother's family would have been the likely ones to practice runic magic. But by the time they married into her Father's family, they were closer to a household of knights. Some landed with small tower forts, some serving as household guard on the frontiers. All very popular choices for war campaigns. Even the last clan to marry into her Mother's family were closer to mercenary knights with their own retinue of servants, and lesser landed knights, than they were to the old clans. Kathryn Couldn't be sure if the old clans were nearly completely phased out, living only in memory and forgotten practices, or if they were just not prominent where she used to live. She did remember not seeing any clans in the high king's courts. Except maybe some of the knights and lesser lords.

It appeared the reception to Kathryn learning new magical abilities, was as a whole, a good one. She hoped... At least Kosara seemed to get a kick out of it. Which, she should have expected. The woman had a weird fascination with her muscles that coming from anyone else, Kathryn would assume had less than the most holy of intents. In Kosara's case it seemed to be mostly unfiltered curiosity. Kathryn did attempt to follow Kosara's gaze as she looked above Kathryn, but when she saw nothing she assumed the smaller woman was just trying to imagine Kathryn as a 40 foot tall walking building who was trying to not level other buildings. Kathryn had to pause a moment when Kosara asked about proportions, and she found herself struggling to process what she could mean. But figured she would take a shot in the dark at it. "I think everything stays proportional? I hope..." She wasn't really excited on the idea of holding up a huge giant form with miniature feet, breaking her ankle, and forcing herself into an early retirement as a chair bound blacksmith's apprentice. "But I didn't really get a good chance to look it over. Made myself sick last time and I wasn't able to get too far. Haven't really been able to try it since. Maybe when we got a bit more time and can risk me being unmovable for a few minutes." Though, there was probably an arcane spell for that too!

The group thankfully was not one to really worried about. Annoyed, and mildly pissed off locals. Kathryn had figured, or more hoped... that it was the case. Kathryn's relief was reinforced when they turned out to know the L'Rose's! Things were going good!! Until the talk of the constable came up. Fuuuuuuuuuck. She should have figured that it would take a while for people to be updated. News traveled slow, but romors could only travel as fast as the person who carried them. Sure the party stayed in town a few more days, but its not like those who did leave town were going door to door to update the country side on the in and outs of townlife going on in Avonshire. Kathryn was tempted to speak up and clarify the situation, particularly in a way where the party wouldn't be seen as little more than thugs or bandits. Kosara, had gotten there first. She was surprised that it wasn't as damning as it could have been. Could have been better, but... could have been so much worse. V was quick to jump in to lend assistance as well. SO! Things should hopefully be okay. But she had worries none the less.

BlackBerry had snapped his fingers in feigned anger at losing his little wager; Madame L’rose had not made the pie. But he did express his agreement at being introduced

Standing beside the grazing Mule, BlackBerry’s eyebrows descended further and further into a worried frown as Lady Kathryn continued to explain the particulars of her magical mishaps. He patted the mule reassuringly on the neck. “Do not be alarmed Old Boy, I will endeavour to keep you safe from her appetite.”

There was still time before the other wagon arrived, it meandering with some intent towards them on the road ahead, and BlackBerry would be lying if he said he wasn’t at least a little bit anxious. He once again caught himself tap, tap, tapping his finger tips to his thumb to relieve some of the worry. When did he become so wary of others?

Somewhat frustrated with himself and still awaiting the others to finish their own meals he set about preparing the Mule and wagon as best he could. Thankfully, despite the earlier mishap when he tried to steer the wagon the mule was a fairly agreeable creature, and happy to stand politely for BlackBerry to replace its harness, with the dragon-born only having some difficulty from trying to secure the various straps. But this alone took him somewhat longer than he had hoped or intended so that by the time the other Wagon had arrived he was just about leading the Mule over to the parties own.

His initial worries immediately dissipated as the halfling of the other party threw a cherry greeting to Madame L’Rose, only for them to return two fold when they revealed the reason for their travels. The weight of the recently deceased Constable Cavendish’s sword at his hip felt like an anchor. Hurriedly, BlackBerry scurried behind the Mule to keep the incriminating sword out of sight at least until there had been a chance to explain themselves. It seemed that the news hadn’t travelled of Cavendish’s disgrace hadn’t travelled quite as far as hoped.

Perhaps I am being overly cautious? After all how likely is it really a bunch of farmers would recognise a Constables Sword?

The Kosara opened her mouth and explained the situation in a succinct, although very interesting manner which Victoria endeavoured to patch over. He winced.

“Perhaps it is even the ruffians who escaped?” The thought popped out before he could stop it.

Weather: Overcast and chilly. Winds are windy, but no so much as to lose an unsecured hat. Yet.

Time: A touch after midday. The sun is still notable through the cloud cover.

Ambience: The low and small flowers around the roadside waypoint dance back and forth in the wind, smaller gusts turning it into a back-and-forth frenzy for a second or so at a time. The colors of the landscape unfurling all around remain as captivating as ever, were one in a position to appreciate it. Nearby, one may hear the subtler sounds of the river during the times when the wind quiets.



The Halflings sitting atop and driving the farm wagon took their time listening to and digesting the words of the strangers with the surviving relatives of the elder Monsieur L'Rose of the Rose River Vineyard. Indeed, one might refer to it as a "stunned silence", owing to the fact that a few of them had confused expressions, complete with mouths agape, and none of them so much as cleared their throat for a few seconds afterward. Breeze filtering through brush dominated the landscape's auditory cues during this time, broken finally by a single, croaking caw from a very nearby black bird.

This seemed to break the spell surrounding the group, resulting in mutters amongst themselves, indecipherable on account of distance between themselves and the party. The Halfling who previously spoke decided to ignore the words of the strange Tiefling and Half-Elf who addressed him and returned his attention to Cecily. Shouting to make himself understood over the distance, he spoke, "Is everything canny, Madame L'Rose!? We can help; there's only four of them!"

Cecily's response was a weary but clearly spoken, "No, Monsieur Mosswater, everything is..." She paused to sigh and shake her head a little, "Everything is just as they said! Just not ...it's complicated! These fine people are my guests! Come along, now! I don't feel like shouting today!" Cecily looked tired in that moment as she waved them closer. She then gave appraising glances to the two, more socially oriented people of the group and wondered how they stumbled over such a first meeting. "Everyone has bad days, I suppose," she mumbled, partly in understanding, though admittedly partly with annoyance at the fact that a basic social encounter with people she knew was mishandled, and almost grievously, by adventurers she knew were plenty capable if they tried to be. If this had come to blows, Cecily was almost certain that the farmhands, people she knew and many she counted as friends, would have taken heavy losses. Even if they won the skirmish.

The Halfling-led group approached cautiously, keeping alert and eyeing the adventurers with a continued amount of suspicion. The ones with short hunting bows hung toward the back, apparently ready to provide cover if necessary. As they neared, one could better gauge tense looks upon their faces and what might have been a frazzled lack of meaningful rest. Still upon their cart, the Halfling, Mosswater, spoke up again. "What they're spitting out is true, then? Sheriff Arbalest sent them and the Constable went barmy?"

This time, Lizbeth spoke up in their defense before her aunt could get to it. "Of course, Mr. Mosswater! Not just that, they fought off an army of Goblins and got Grandpa's body back and made sure he got a good burial in the big cemetery. And, and... they saved Aunt Ceecee from Cavendish. They're big heroes, Mr. Mosswater, sir." Her finish was a touch meeker than her more excited start. Cecily could only nod in agreement.

After a short talk amongst themselves, Mosswater sent the rest of the group toward the Township to confirm, retaining only his until then silent companion upon the wagon with him, who smiled and introduced himself as "Tarace, and this my Barbal," motioning to the one who was doing the talking thusfar. The armed farmhands looked a bit hesitant to leave them alone with a gaggle of outsiders fresh from a kill, particularly the killing of someone they knew, on the word of two people who might or might not be influenced by said outsiders. In the end, they contented themselves with the idea that they were seeking out the region's authority for conformation and help.

Barbal Mosswater maneuvered his wagon around in the roadside waypoint and aimed it back in the direction from which they arrived, the same direction the party was headed, down the road. Calling back to Cecily, he said, "My people are going to find the Sheriff. If your new friends are really 'big heroes', maybe you can convince them to help out your old friends. Laurent's sheep have been picked off a few at a time and what or whoever's been doing it has been getting bolder. Bits of blood and mutton left strewn about, and if we can't get workers back in the fields before the snows come - and they're about to - some of us might starve this winter." His voice was gruff (for a Halfling) as he returned to the road and rolled off, not particularly waiting for an answer.

Cecily looked expectantly among the group and assured, "You don't have anything to prove to me, and all of you are welcome in my home regardless of what you decide. All of you have more than shown your courage and ability. And the others are going to get Gregory. If he can spare men right now I am sure this will get sorted. Let me know if you want to investigate this and I'll turn off the road near the Laurent farm. It might make us late getting back, just to say."

It seemed Kosara was so far the only one excited for Kathryn's new and slightly broken abilities that mostly sometimes worked. Which was a shame as she was mostly kinda sure they would work next time! But she didn't really wanna risk things going wrong out in the middle of nowhere where some poor sod would have to drag her back to bed... "Oh please, I'm not going to eat our lovely mule. I much more prefer chicken." Kathryn jested as Blackberry attempted to comfort the creature. Though... The pork in V's cart was ever so tempting... She'd make sure to snag some as soon as she could. It smelled pretty decent, and Kathryn realized she may have been ever so slightly drooling from thinking of such a tasty snack. Hopefully once she got the Rune Magic to work properly, everything else would start working right and she wouldn't feel like her whole body was operating three steps behind of where it needed to be.

"I don't think there is a lot of worry for that. I think they're far more likely to recognize his hammer. Though I suppose if someone knew him well they may also recognize the sword..." Kathryn said pondering. "But short weapons are weird like that. Most aren't custom, and the ones that are, generally aren't recognized except by people who were close to the owner or the maker." Then again, they were in small town country lands. Lots of people knew each other out here. So, it is not out of the realm of possibility. "But I think you should be fine." Kathryn said with a reassuring tone that spoke of blind optimism.

Kathryn did have to stifle a laugh at laugh at the halfing's comment about the potential hostage situation. Thankfully, Cecily L'Rose was able to explain things away in a manner that the band of halfings seemed to accept. "Bloody hell that almost turned to shite." She said her laughter turning more nervous than anything at this point. Little Lizbeth also added in her own additions to their adventure which was rather sweet. Most of the group would continue on their way, with a pair of halflings staying behind to either explain things, or make sure the party's lovely hosts were being taken care of and not in any harm. Now that the tension was faded, Kathryn felt more comfortable stepping forward. At this stage of her life, she knew her size could be intimidating, especially in tense situations.

Opting to leave her helm in the wagon so she may be able to present a friendly face, Kathryn stepped forward while introductions took place. When Tarace and Barbal were introduced Kathryn waited for a good chance to introduce herself as well. "Lady Kathryn Pyke, at yer service." And with it, gave a curt bow. Yes, she had other titles. She could have thrown a Ser, or a Lord if she really wanted too. Though that last title would be a stretch as her family didn't own any land anymore. Or have legal rights in their home lands... As well, Lady gave a softer, safer vibe during introductions. And given how tense things were a moment ago, safer seemed better. "It's nice too meet you both." She made sure to give a friendly wave to the others as they left. Trying her best to not give any impressions of being hostile. She even slouched a little to give herself a more weaker, and smaller posture. The drawback, she was taller than the last time she had to try and pull this off. So that may not have the same effect it did before. As well, she couldn't slouch much without making it obvious she was trying to make herself seem smaller, and it wasn't comfortable for her.

Kathryn's soft smile lessened hearing the story of what was happening to the sheep. She didn't like the sounds of it one bit. And Blackberry's suggestion that it could be the other town guards only made that feeling worse. Kathryn worried on this a lot. She was rather emotionally soft. She wanted to see the best in everyone. Even the most cruel and evil of people. She wanted everyone to be redeemable. Ser Lucas would remind her often, that having such a mentality only got those killed who couldn't save themselves from those cruel and evil people who got spared. She had hoped there was some sort of middle ground, someway to be merciful without jeopardizing the innocent, but she was struggling to find it. And she was the one who insisted on sparing the one guard. Who was... left in a barrel... fuck. And who let the others get away. Sure, it made fighting Cavendish far easier, but at what cost? What if it was the guards? And they got bolder and went after more than just cattle?

"We'd be glad to help." Kathryn said straining her posture a bit. But they already seemed to be on the road again. Kathryn booked it to the party's wagon, grabbing the belt that held some of her weapons, her helm, and her pack. Following on foot preparing to give it her all. She needed to know if she was the cause of their troubles, and make things right. And if she wasn't, she still swore and oath to protect the innocent.

Kosara’s reaction to Kathryn’s revelation about her size changing schenanigans and what exactly was happening whenever she was going to go GIANT on them left the tiefling nodding in some partial understanding. So Kathryn was using magic to simply increase her size rather than actively altering her being? Possible… maybe… could be? In any case, it still left Kosara with very much a lot ideas on what she could do if she had a giant Kathryn to help. Shoulder rides? She hadn’t had those since she was a child and people could easily carry her on their shoulders. Being tossed into the air for maximum vantage potential and aerial attacks from on high? Getting tossed at the enemy for ultimate dynamic heroic entry into a battle!? Ohh, Kosara could very much see a great deal many ways a giant Kathryn and herself could team up to wreck havoc upon all evildoers out in the wide world… and probably cause an untold amount of concerns given the absolutely gleeful smile that spoke of nothing, but headaches.

Now on the topic of new arrivals, potential friends and potential enemies, Kosara stared intently at the people after she explained the situation to them. She also looked at V who chimed in to add additional explanations. The tiefling tilted her head, wondering why everybody looked concerned about something. It wasn’t like some grand lies were being told or something. She had spoken the truth as her story was correlated by V and Cecily. At the halflings’ words though, Kosara’s eyes sharpened as she stared at him. There was this faint whisper at the back of her head… well not whisper really, more like a growing rumbling growl that demanded him to apologize for even suggesting what she suspected he just did to Cecily.

Kosara was just about to open her mouth and object when their host and guide did so first, assuring him they weren’t lying and she was fine. The tiefling’s expression remained somewhat displeased now, but the growing unknown to herself snarl faded away at least.” Kosara.” She replied back with a pout when they were all introducing each other. That was her name, she never really got a last name.

Her expression did a complete shift back to nice Kosara when she heard they were suffering some kind of danger attacking the cattle. Kathryn jumped at the idea of helping them almost too fast so, given the speed at which she did it.” We should check it out. Helping people is important.” Kosara agreed, looking at V and Berry and then at Cecily.” We’ve already faced dangers in this neck of the woods. Could be goblins… or rats… or anything really. Given the state of the area, we should make sure to secure it as much as we are able to. If the farms around here are being attacked, whatever it is, it might eventually attack the winery too.”

That never happened. Never happened. Victoria had suffered a social setback when meeting people for the first time, not even in the lead of the conversation, when they had just walked out of a place which celebrated them as heroes. This idea genuinely gave the ordinarily silver tongued Bard a moment of pause and introspection. She then narrowed her eyes at Kosara. Was it possible that these people were throwing her off of her game? Of course, it might have been the last few days she intentionally spent away from people. But could she get rusty in just a few days? It made no sense.

No. This was a fluke. Nothing more. Victoria was a charismatic beast and no slouch of a spellcaster. But maybe, just maybe, she might wish to look into a few choice, subtle incantations which could assist in getting her point of view taken more seriously in those with whom she interacted. For professional reasons, of course.

Luckily, Cecily pulled them all from the fire with an assist from Lizbeth. Which was good, as Victoria had no desire to rain Shatter spell after Shatter spell (with the occasional Vicious Mockery for flavor) atop their close-packed formation and reanimate their beasts of burden to trample over the survivors like they were roughly kneading so much whimpering, bleeding, sapient dough into Elven flatbread. Such a thing would be unthinkable. Positively and plainly unthinkable. Lucky for Victoria, no one to her knowledge had the means to detect what train of thought gave her that curious smile as she climbed up to the driver's seat of their wagon and made room for Baronfjord. "Here, reins are all yours for now," she said to their Dragonborn companion in a sweet, cheerfully optimistic voice.

She said nothing to give indication one way or another as to whether she wished for them to investigate the sheep disappearances, confident that her new group of friends had already made that decision. She fully intended to go along with it and help as best as she might. But her attention stayed with her Morty, teaching wagon operation, and her new Familiar.

Thankfully the tension in the air was quickly tempered by Madame L’rose and Young Lizbeth clarifying Kosaras explanation. But to be fair on Kosara, there weren’t many good ways to say ‘Your local sheriff was a were rat and killed a lot of people in the township, and then these other people travelling with us then killed him’.

Lady Kathryns own reassurances over their…aquired equipment also took some of the edge off his nerves. But still he saw no need to go flaunting either around the place.

“I myself am Baronfjørd Chedgusah.” A polite wave to the new arrivals still from behind the Mule. “Though most simply call me BlackBerry. A pleasure to meet you both. Apologies, I am a tad busy at the moment.”
He returned to trying to attach the mule to the wagon, trying to follow the steps he had seen Kosara take when removing it earlier, but the task turned out to be a tad more complex than he had initially thought and meant he had to redo a few straps before he got everything back into the correct place, and the same went for removing the wooden-stopper-peg-things from around the wagons wheels.

Putting the wooden-stopper-peg-things in the back of the wagon he then said, “Keep these safe, if you would good sir.” It took him a moment to realise he had addressed Morty, a very much dead though stubbornly upright swine.

Coming back around to the front of the wagon, just in time to hear the tail end of the conversion with the party agreeing to help or at the very least investigate what was killing off the farmers sheep.

“Good thinking Kosara. I am inclined to agree on that point.”

He clambered back onto the wagon next to Victoria at the front and expected her to give the reigns a crack to get the Mule moving. Instead, surprisingly, the reigns were cheerfully deposited onto his lap. His head jumped between the reigns and to Victoria as he awaited an instruction. After a few moment, when none came and he picked up the reigns.

“Very well. Let us give this another try, then? Are you ready good Sir? Slow and steady now.” He called to the mule which only moved its ears in acknowledgement.

BlackBerry, mimicking the motions he had seen from Victoria and Madam L’rose, gave the reigns a little crack and a “yah” prompting the Mule to walk. This time Blackberry kept the his grip on the reigns light and easy, providing much more slack in them that he had before, but enough tension so that he only had to move his arm a little to either side for the Mule to react. BlackBerry grinned with pride as he managed a much smoother ride this time despite going slower than before anf falling a little behind Madame L’Rose’s wagon.

“Haha! Now this is quite agreeable. Perhaps I had not offended Habbakuk too badly then.” The wagon drifted a little to the left as his attention wavered for a moment, but BlackBerry managed to pull it back onto course without incident.

“Lady Kathryn, I imagine it is still some distance until we reach the farms. You may as well keep you gear in the wagon for now.” He called to the other wagon. “Might I ask how far are we to travel?”

Kathryn was glad Kosara seemed to be excited for her new abilities! Even if they didn't always work right... And even if that smile Kosara held may have meant Kosara was already figuring out how to make use of Kathryn's new abilities. She wondered what sort of ideas the small tiefling held. Though, the smaller woman seemed absolutely obsessed with Kathryn's muscles. If she had to guess, it was something along those lines. And if it was anyone but Kosara, Kathryn would have assumed it was something totally perverted. And Kathryn wasn't sure if Kosara had a single perverted bone in her body. Unless... she expressed it differently than most people. Kathryn supposed that could be something, but she was also not that sort of doctor. Nor any doctor really. As well as lacking an education past some rather standard stuff. "I'll show ya some of the cool tricks when we get somewhere I can pass out." Kathryn chuckled, simply happy someone else was as excited as she was. Sure, runic magic was... crude compared to arcane magic. But it didn't change just how simply awesome it was. She hoped when Kosara got to see her new tricks, she was still just as impressed. She was also glad to see Kosara still being her own caring self. Since the.... communication... with Cavendish's patron, she's been acting off. Kathryn found herself beginning to worry for the woman. But she has probably been through a ton at this point, and found herself caught off guard. Kathryn wished she knew how to help more, but she didn't... So she would just do what she could do to be available to her friend.

Kathryn with her gathered up supplies began to make her way following the halfings to the likely attack site. Well, she assumed it was an attack site. Somewhere to learn more of whats going on, and to face off against whatever had been attacking the locals homes and cattle. Though Blackberry called out to her, to offer to drop her gear back into the wagon. Kathryn changed her pace so she was walking to the side of the wagon and so she didn't have to shout to be heard. "Thank ya for the offer. But a few too many almost ambushes the last week if ya catch my drift. We've been lucky in those regards so far, but I don't want to find myself getting shot in the back without some means of retaliation ya know?" Kathryn said optimistically. Not expecting to be ambushed. But she thought of the times Cavendish had tried to lure them into a side alleyway to pick off. And how the party themselves were almost ambushed by goblins, only for Lizbeth's grandfather to take the hit for them. A part of her was almost certain that the trap was set just for them. But unless she found out more, she had nothing to base that off. And nowhere to go with that line of thought. "If a fight breaks out, I'd rather have to drop a pack instead of run back to the wagon to grab my gear. But thank ya very much for the offer. It's a kind gesture." She smiled kindheartedly to the dragonborn. And still found herself comically amazed by him. In the last week she had met more creatures and people she would have deemed as... well magical, than in the last ten years. Maybe that wasn't the case, but few adventurers wanted to talk to a 13 year old who had stolen someone's beer, drank half of it, climbed up onto a table, and shouted that she was now the queen and that all should "BOW BEFORE MY WRAITH! AND YOU MAY BE SPARED MY MIGHT!".

Looking back, Kathryn could be a difficult child at times. This was made worse by the fact that by 13 she was about as strong as Ser Lucas. Albeit, not as skilled. In some of her less behaved years, she had attempted to use her size and strength to assert her opinions and thoughts on people. Sometimes for good, sometimes for rather selfish matters. And there had been a time or two where Ser Lucas would have to come in, tell her to stop acting like a brat, and Kathryn would respond in kind by trying to forcefully sit him down. Only to be sent flat on her own ass instead. Stubbornly, she would try this a few more times, never succeeding in over powering her guardian. Looking back, Kathryn is glad she grew up, and had learned how to settle conflicts with words rather than force. She still struggled at times. She also didn't want to be some selfish brute, who pushed around the powerless to get what she wanted. She was however, far more comfortable pushing around the brutes who expected nobody to push back. She guessed Ser Lucas was much the same, stopping some selfish brute from believing she could do whatever she wanted and no one would push back.

Weather: Partly cloudy, cold. Winds gust, off and on around you. Those with longer ears may wish to wear their hair down or pull their hoods up.

Time: The day marches on, bringing you into early afternoon.

Ambience: The lower temperature does nothing to take away from the landscape. The colors are particularly lovely around the river, which winds to and from the river as it sees fit, but the sections of bright and/or dull colors of low scrub and stubborn moor grasses dapple the lands with their own, proud colorations. The flowers, though small and low to the earth, are also rather lovely. Nearer to the river now, the trees become more and more common, even to the point of creating small wooded areas in the near distance.



A grunt of affirmation was all that Barbal Mosswater had to say to Kathryn's response to the positive, and said grunt was inflected on the go. Tarace, on the other hand, gave a quick smile and a wave. Not just to Kathryn but to Kosara and Baronfjord as well, owing to their openness of introduction.

Likewise, the conversation with the vineyard wagon was a touch toward the terse side, with Cecily answering Baronfjord's question about time and distance with a rather vague, "Oh, did I forget to mention? If we move straight onward, we should arrive before dark. Look for signs that say 'Southmoor' and we're well over halfway there." She shifted back to tend her reins and make sure Lizbeth was okay. The girl seemed a little withdrawn again.

Travel continued somewhat quieter than before, wind notwithstanding. Quite an amount of time passed as the sun took a firmer stand of direction in the sky, marking the progression of the afternoon. The temperature seemed to mellow, if only slightly, and one might be able to tell if one paid very close attention. Every so often the train of three wagons was joined by a local, who shared a word or three with Cecily or the Mosswaters but soon turned off another perpendicular path away from the main road.

When afternoon began to shift into early evening, Barbel Mosswater called for a momentary halt. After a brief and quiet exchange with Tarace, a quick snap of leather in the air could be heard and his animals turned off of the main, and onto a side road leading away from the main river.

Just past this intersection, still along the mai road, a lone sign with worn but still quite legible print carved into it read, "Southmoor," and bore an arrow pointing forward.

As Cecily read the mood of the occasion full of desire to assist in the endeavors of the local agricultural laborers, she turned her wagon to follow that of Mr. Mosswater's. This turn saw a slight change of environment, as just over the next rise the land began to sport more in the ways of stout bush and closer set tree. The ground itself bore a seemingly terraced feel with abrupt changes of elevation as opposed to the mostly gentle roll of the moors, but this did not prevent the appropriation and implementation of farmland. As the trees broke and elevation allowed, one could catch a glimpse of wide hills sporting the flat leaning stalks of once red and golden topped sorghum, barley, and wheat fields.

The Mosswater wagon soon approached a spot where the road rounded about the end of a harvested field, surrounded by a low, rail fence. The necessary grain had been removed and taken away for milling or for storage, though chaff remained, and beneath this one could witness the occasional spot of red grain here, gold grain there, suggesting even more upon the worked earth if one chose to look. These were the gleanings, which the common folk needed to collect, following the main harvest as part of their compensation for labor and a necessary staple food to see them through the winter.

Barbal parked his wagon to the side of the road and gave a searching look around while standing in his seat. "Well, I'll be... the sheep went to scatter this way - got themselves hemmed in and ripped to mutton. I saw them bodies myself. There's nary a meaty bit left! What in the Hells could've happened to them?"

Cecily looked a little nervous and whispered to her young niece, "Stay on the wagon, Lizbeth dear. I don't like this." Truly, the tone of Mosswater's voice was a bit more shrill than his previous commanding tone, which might have added to Cecily's heightened sense of preservation. Taking a more positive note, then, Cecily stated, "We'd best get this thing sorted before the grain rots on the ground and more sheep explode. Disappear. Whichever."

All in one it seemed everybody was in agreement that they really needed to go and check what this deal with the dying sheep was. Kosara was very interested in this for a few reasons, first she really… REALLY needed to kill something. She wasn’t sure what, second, for their rest and relaxation they needed no monster nonsense happening and third… well sheep were adorable. At least the ones she had seen from distance. There weren’t sheep back home for obvious hot reasons, but they did look soft and fluffy and likely really nice to hug and Kosara was all about the hugs whenever it suited her which was most of the time. Also wanted to see how raw wool felt and not one in clothes.

So with all of them in favor for the next great adventure on their merry way, sadly without their merry priest, they were onto to discover the evil doers… or evil doing things anyways. Who knows what it was, maybe it was a very fancy monster scorpion. Wait did they have scorpions in these lands? Now that stumped Kosara for a bit until she recalled spiders were a thing and it looked… similar-ish. So! Maybe it was a monster spider! Or as they had mentioned to Berry… it could be goblins. Still with the wagons getting a move again, the white pale tiefling scampered onto their wagon and made herself comfortable for the journey ahead once more, just a tad bit more… paranoid now, but hey it wasn’t paranoia if they were out to get you and Kosara had no plans to let any sneaky tree goblins get the jump on her or something.

As the time shifted to early evening and the weather was growing colder again, Kosara made herself comfortably tightly secured in her coat, a marvelous gift from V indeed. She had tried to write in her book again while on the road, but couldn’t focus at all. Her nerves returning to their strained selves again as she expected everything to turn hostile and a tree to turn out to be disguised by magic goblins, or monsters… or monster rats or something… anything! When they arrived, the pale lady, lady title pending review, jumped out the wagon without waiting any. She also looked at what their local guide was pointing out and sure enough there weren’t any meaty bits left.” Got dragged or collected away?” Kosara suggested in an offhand manner as she got over to the area and began investigating in her own little way. She was decently perceptive most of the time and her thought process while… generally unusual, usually gave her a different view of things that sometimes helped. In this case though… focus was a bit too hard with expecting monsters everywhere and every little a bit unnaturally sounding noise causing her to snap in attention at that direction. Mostly turning out to be people walking about and things on the ground making noise.

Finally she took a deep breath, having not found anything, she pulled the little medallion/amulet and pulled on to magic inside it.” Come on, Chauncy.” Soon enough the adorable helpful little rat appeared since she had kept his summons for special occasions like right now.” Chauncy, we’ve got problems with missing sheep! Possibly monsters, I failed to find anything, can you see if you can find any clues as of what befell the tasty walking mutton?” She very seriously asked.

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 entirely 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, did come back. 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.

“If you are certain, Lady Kathryn. Quite a wise thought if I may say so.” He nodded in appreciation to Lady Kathryns thinking. Form the sounds of it the rest of the party had had much more exciting times on the road than himself.

The journey to Southmoor was overall very uneventful and would have been enjoyable if not for the bracing gusts of wind trying to strip every once of warmth from BlackBerry’s body. He continued to lead the Mule, following behind the L’Rose’s caravan, with only the occasional input from Victoria pulling on the reigns to keep the wagon clear of the rocks and potholes of the road.

I must be doing well. He thought as Victoria began to play her violin, and gliding between tunes as easy as the raven glided upon the winds above them. BlackBerry of course showed his appreciation to the music by trying to tap his feet in time to the rhythm the Bard set.

Thankfully Madame L’Roses was right on the money in regards to how far away the farm was and soon enough BlackBerry was turning the wagon and following after. His attention had started to flag however, and the poor Mule found itself having to pull the wagon at a sharper than usual angle to make the turn. Despite this he did manage to bring the Mule to a gentle stop just behind the other two wagons, but not before Kosara shot like a hound chasing a rabbit out the side and into the field, just as Mr Barbal cried out that the sheep had disappeared.

“Are you quite certain this is the right field, Mr Barbal?” BlackBerry cast his gaze from atop the wagon seat struggled to see any sign of them either. For a moment he wondered if this had been a trap of some kind, but Madame L’Rose trusted Barbal, and he sounded genuinely confused.

BlackBerry had never been too sure how farmers could tell whos field was whos, especially when so many of them often grew the same crop or housed the same animals. The shuffling of movement drew his attention snapping towards the back of the wagon, where he could see through the gabs in the fabric the form of Morty getting ready for…something.

He raised an eyebrow to Victoria to silently ask, ‘Why?’. But taking her lead he placed a hand upon the hilt of his sword. Perhaps Mr Barbal wasn't as trustworthy as he first seemed.

“Any sign of a struggle, Kosara?" BlackBerry called over, trying to see Kosara amongst the piles of harvested wheat.

"Thank you again for the offer though, I'm sure I will be taking you up on it later on. Once we have a better idea of what's going on yeah?" She responded to her dragonborn friend in a polite manner. She was a cautious woman in most situations, and a ruthless killer in others. And in other situations, she was a total bleeding heart, wanting to see the best in everyone and everything. All of these parts of Kathryn fought for control at any given time. When the adrenaline kicked in though? The ruthless killer got to have her turn. And maybe, by the end of things, she would be able to stow herself just a bit. Though, thinking on it, despite the back to back encounters in town, she was pretty sure the only thing she killed was the rat beast... Though she damn well got close with the one she had launched into the fire barrels. So... Kill and a half? Though Cavendish's frustrated look of confusion as she nearly concussed him with a net was something fucking hilarious looking back. To be fair, she would probably be just as confused and pissed should something like that happen to her. Then that ruthless killer would need to make room for reason.

Arriving at the field the dead sheep were supposed to be at, there was a suspicious lack of... well... dead sheep. She gave Mosswater a bit of a sideways look when looking about, but quickly turned to sympathy. Losing so much of what you may have was never easy. And she couldn't imagine what it was like to be in those shoes again. But maybe they could still give some hope to the poor... farmer? Cattle herder? Fuck... Kathryn wished she understood agriculture better to know what jobs were what. "Let's see what we can find then yeah?" She asked Cecily optimistically before stepping into the field. She thankfully had a little bit of knowledge of tracking and hunting. Not that she was particularly good at it, but she was passable. And maybe she could at least figure out where the hell the sheep had gone. So she stepped into the field, hoping to see anything she could. Having to watch her step a couple times as the ground was soft and loose. Like the whole damn thing had been turned up recently. God, if she twisted her ankle now and found herself unable to stand, she could be pissed. Much like the constable getting trapped in a net.

The anxiety felt by Kathryn in this moment, could be measured in the handfuls. Not fearful, but something was clearly up. She just... couldn't be sure what. But, the sheep were gone. It sort of gave the impression of a wild animal having come and taken away their food. But why kill a bunch of your prey and leave them out and about? Only to come back for them later on... God she didn't want to think of the implications here. Unless it was like how Mosswater said it was, and they were just... exploding, leaving nothing left. Kathryn didn't like that either. Most of her skill set was in bringing the dangerous end of some sort of weapon, and inserting it into something that needed it.

Then the pieces began to click, and suddenly, those handfuls of anxiety turned into a bucket of sideways shit. The loose soil was thorough, yet inconsistent in locations. There were suspicious pole pricks in the ground, and the blood splatters from the once dead sheep, end abruptly in a slightly raised mound. She looked upon it, realizing why such a wild animal could have taken it takes collecting its meal. She was practically standing in its nest. "Oh fuck me in the ass..." Kathryn mumbled as she eyed the mound. She grabbed the helm off her belt before fixing it to her head. And was relieved to not have to fumble with a broken latch to tighten it.Her shield was then fixed firmly to her right arm, and a hand resting on the head of her hammer.

She would turn her attention to the rest of the group, hoping they saw how prepped she was for a fight, and let out a short, but sharp whistle before tipping her helm towards the mound. She would then draw the hammer pick end out, ready to disturb the mound. When Kathryn goes to unearth the mound, she is sharply advised by Victoria, "Kathryn, if you would please? Do not do that." Her voice, while just as mellifluous as ever, was marked heavily with urgency. Kathryn would let out a defeated sigh. True, maybe poking the beast, literally in this case, wasn't the best choice. Maybe some long ranged fire? Or maybe... she could go big, and just step on the fucker. Squish them flat before they could act. That, was rather tempting. Unless she just got sick, threw up narrowly avoiding drowning in her own helmet. Only to go out cold and be dragged into the den as a feast for whatever vicious creature lived under the field. That... didn't sound fun. But, she had a team of people on her side, ready to assist her however they could. And she was here for the same. So maybe it was time to try it again? Maybe she would be better prepared this time.

Weather: Partly cloudy, cold. Winds are sporadic and carry the bite of an early winter.

Time: Early afternoon, still. Time has not advanced much since arriving at the field in question.

Ambience: A hill rose to one side of the road, near which the Mosswaters' wagon was parked. It overlooked the field across the way, which was mostly harvested and partially stamped down by the feet of laborers hoping to glean fallen grain for their winter stores. A hush of caution fell over the Halfling agriculturalists and the L'Roses. Despite the wind, a sort of stillness covered the land.



The afternoon sun cast lengthening shadows across the mostly open field in which the mystery of the missing, expired sheep was being investigated. The early concerns of some ruthless predator replaced by a caution of the unknown. Questions were raised. Among them, "where have the sheep gone - why is the soil so loose - what do these mounds and depressions mean?" The ground is open with the exception of the hill on the other side of the road, allowing for a more or less decent view of the lands all around. Not a single beast of the field nor bird of the sky was heard within all of that openness.

In the face of a direct question from Baronfjord, Barbel Mosswater collected his ability to speak and, though with moderately less noise, did respond with more than a hint of annoyance, "I grew up in this part of the region, and my farm abutts the Laurent property. This here is the outermost field of the Laurent Farmstead, and I left it as recently as this morning. This is the right field." Suffice it to say, he appeared certain of the location's legitimacy.

Cecily and Lizbeth stayed on the wagon, though the elder aunt made it a point to maneuver the vehicle so that it faced the direction from which they arrived. Getting herself and Lizbeth away from danger seemed her priority, though it could be noted that she did not leave immediately. Be it the pragmatism of not wishing to leave the people with magic and steel, or the loyalty owed to those she could trust, she remained. Lizbeth took the opportunity to twist around, looking at the unfolding situation with intense curiosity.