Kathryn struggled to follow along with the nature of business conversations. At her best times she was more doable. But she was rather easily tricked up with word play. This was when she was sober however. Drunk Kathryn cared little for the art of negotiating. Drunk Kathryn had the power to take whatever she wanted and fight anyone in her path! Not that she would. But the confidence was easy for any bystander to see. Drunk Kathryn generally only wanted two things, people's approval, and more alcohol. The problem is drunk Kathryn could not read the room to save her self. SO! She was winning obviously. Sure she almost dropped Kosara a couple times, knocked over a table or two, and the direction up was beginning to be optional. But! Clearly winning. The whole time, Kathryn found herself struggling to stop her uncontrollable giggling. Like a small child who was having the time of their life while the parents did their best to keep them from the lion's den.

With Kosara over her shoulder, and Blackberry approaching her, Kathryn figured the real fun would begin. Weirdly enough he seemed to keep teleporting around the place. One moment he was infront of her, and the next he was gone. THEN! He would be back in a totally different spot!!! "Oh yeah? are you going to make me? Think ya can take me down?" She said spinning about trying to make eye contact. Passing over him twice before her eyes were finally able to find him. "Why such a party pooper, we're all having fun yeah?" Kathryn said with a smile before the giggling returned. Kathryn returned to her dance as Kosara continued to cheer along. "Seeeee? Kosara is having fun!" Kathryn Exclaimed. At one point attempting to get up on a chair to sing and dance, but her foot couldn't seem to catch a grip. "I'll deal with you later you fuckin' arse hole." Kathryn said with a scorn and a disapproving finger towards the chair. Before continuing her dance as Blackberry kept trying to catch up to her. It was like a fun game of catch! Only that if BB got too close he may get accidentally clobbered by either Kosara's limbs, or Kathryn's sheer uncoordinated size.

Blackberry then had the audacity to suggest Kathryn put down her friend. Kathryn taking another attempt (Or three) to get her sights back onto the dragonborn she smiled taking a big sip of her ale, leaving a foamy mustache on her face as she did her best accent to resemble a pirate like voice. "Argh Neva'. I have claimed this treasure, she be mine now!" Kathryn said holding her accent, grin, and and a challenging expression on her face. In this moment, she was very much like a dog begging her human for a fellow participant in this game she was playing. To drunk Kathryn's pleasant surprise, Blackberry accepted the challenge! He bum rushed her with speed that she couldn't even process. Kathryn being a fan of sparing herself felt ready to take this challenge on head first. Blackberry being an expert at hand to hand combat, Kathryn was super excited to face off against such a foe! She would either get her ass handed to her! Or she would hand out the asses! She tried to bend down to meet BB with the biggest of smiles on her face and leaned in arm out stretched in an attempt to use his momentum to close line him on her arm against the force of her size. What drunk Kathryn didn't realize, is BB was charging at her with all his speed. He was being tactical, and wasn't going for her. The out stretched arm that she attempted to use to close line him also held her ale, the true target. Kathryn felt a confusing and surprising pain briefly before she felt the booze go flying, and watched as BB appeared to teleport and grab the drink from mid air.

Kathryn fell back a bit trying to process what was going on and to have full proper control of her person again as Blackberry also stepped back. "I am making the bestest impressions..." Kathryn said in an almost defeated tone. Still convinced everyone else was having as much fun as she was. Then, the atrocities began. Blackberry had poured the ale into the plant. The horror that crossed Kathryn's face was one of heart break, and betrayal as her very replaceable drink was poured out. "Noooooooo!" She trailed off as she stumbled into a table again to see about saving the drink from the plant. But it was too late. The greedy bastard had already drank it all. Kathryn nearly falling to her knees, turned sharply to Blackberry. The expression of hate and betrayal on her face spoke of nothing but vengence. She pointed an accusatory finger towards the monk and began to speak. "You... you... MOTHER FU-" And it was that moment that the world changed. She briefly felt hungover, dizzy, but even then that passed as well! She also noted Kosara had been speaking as well.

The night came in like a slide show for Kathryn as she turned about looking through the room. As she turned about she noted Blackberry just out of arms reach, and Kosara's ass right next to her head. "Yeah uh... I'm... I'm sober now..." She said wanting to hide her face for the rest of existence. The longer she took to think what happened, the more that returned to her. And it was a clusterfuck and a half from the start. "Sorry Baronfjørd. I got... carried away there. Thanks for uh... addressing it." She said embarrassed.

She then turned to the rest of the room giving the negotiating table a polite curtsy. "I'm so sorry you had to see that everyone. I got carried away, and continued getting carried away. It wont happen again." Kathryn said her face beat red from embarrassment. She stood back up strait and realized Kosara was still over her shoulder. The woman was small enough Kathryn barely noticed at times. She attempted to set the smaller woman down, but with skill and speed that Kathryn wasn't sure how the small woman did it, she had crawled her way to Kathryn's back and wrapped herself around her torso. "Okay..." After the show Kathryn put on, she wasn't really sure what to do with this.

Kathryn passed BB on her way to the bar again, and paused as she looked like she wanted to say something but froze up on the words. Taking another break, she spoke up again. "Sorry... Thank you. It wont happen again." Kathryn said, feeling like a dolt for letting herself lose so much control. Being as sober as she was with how embarrassed she was, she did pour herself a mug of ale. Though not particularly full. Just enough to dull her embarrassment. She walked back over to the table, taking a small careful sip of her drink as she tried to catch herself up with the conversation, but realized she was probably far too removed to do much now. "Lizbeth, Master Urmdrus. I must apologize to you both for this. I normally don't get this carried away with my drinking. It was rather unprofessional, and probably not the best sight." Kathryn said with an awkward smile. Realizing she couldn't easily sit with Kosara on her back, she did another bow. "Master Urmdrus, now that I am a little more coherent, allow me to introduce myself." Kathryn said with a gentle bow. "My name is Ser or Lady Kathryn Pyke. Depending on preference or occasion. Knight and noble woman of Arcanaple, and practicing smith, and amateur adventurer. It is a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to this arrangement you have proposed." She then took another nervous, though small sip of her drink.

Overall BlackBerry was, to say the least, taken back by the sheer hatred Lady Kathryn radiated in what he hoped was a moment of weakness and a lapse in judgement. Staring up into the imposing woman's face, contorted with drunken rage, he wondered if had been a little bit rash in dumping the ale. A pale hand belonging to Kosara slapped away the expression with a cheerful burst of light as the Lesser Restoration spell worked its magic on the knight and quite possibly saved BlackBerry’s life.

Composing himself, BlackBerry scowled up at the shamed knight as she apologised for her behaviour with her voice full of remorse and no longer slurring as it had just moments ago. Kosaras Lesser Restoration spell had clearly been as effective as it was dramatic.

“Well that certainly did the trick I must say.” The comment slipped out as Lady Kathryn passed. He then said to Kosara, still hanging on to Lady Kathryn as if she were a starving dog and Lady Kathryn a very tasty bone. “Comfy up there?”

He let go of his anger, mostly formed from secondhand embarrassment and a wish to put forward a good impression for their hosts. If they were to be here for a whole season he didn’t wish to cause any upset lest they be turned away and into the winter season. The idea of trying to traverse the roads filled with snow and the dark evenings of the oncoming winter did not appeal to him in the slightest. Heaving a sigh he followed after the shamed knight as she traipsed her way through her remorse, with a detour to get another drink he noted with disapproving raise of an eyebrow and click of his tongue.

“Lady Kathryn, you need not torment yourself so. There has been no harm done after all. Well…apart from maybe someones reputation.” The last part of Lady Kathryns stint at impressions had finally arrived and BlackBerry sucked in a gasp through his teeth. The poor man. “Well, nothing to be done now I suppose. But I remind you that we have been invited to stay here all season lest you worry there will be any lack of time to enjoy ourselves. Though I daresay you might just drink us all under the table.”

BlackBerry had followed Lady Kathryn, and Kosara still hanging on for dear life, back towards the table where Victoria sounded as if she was finalising the deal with Urmdrus. It was as he rightened his chair that BlackBerry had an idea.

“Furthermore, it would only be fair for you to be clear headed to have at least a chance at besting me.” Elbow on the back of his chair and chin in his hand, his voice dripping with enough confidence alone to curl his lips into a cocky grin towards Lady Kathryn. A few sparks crackled from between his sharp teeth. “A battle between Dragon and Knight. A often told tale but I am unfamiliar with the classic ending thus far.”

With his challenge appropriately set he then settled down in his seat at the table, hoping to join the end of the conversation.

“But without further ado! What is this business of pissing in a bucket? I must admit I did only catch about half of the conversation unfortunately, but I did hear the mention of making use of the ah…Carapace?” He couldn’t quite hide the little rise in his voice from astonished but curious disgust. “Rather fascinating to hear you can make such things from…well..bugs. Would it be a stretch to assume bracers, belts, or helmets on that list? Boots, even?” The last suggestion came a moment after everything else as he though suddenly of snow and sleet brought on by winter. He hadn’t packed any shoes or wrappings for his travels
.
BlackBerry could feel the evening coming to a close despite its relative youth. He wondered if the others felt as he did; comfortably warm and full of tasty food, the weariness from their long journey coupled with the excitement of the battle of the bugs had left him wanting for a quiet and restful slumber. There was still work to do before they could all retire though; BlackBerry would volunteer to help tidy and clean the table and crockery while he hoped one of the others could find somewhere for Young Lizbeth to sleep for the night. With so many rooms at their disposal he guessed they could even offer a place for Master Urmdus should he desire.

Weather: Actual cold has settled around the countryside, with one island of refuge within the Coach House. It is dark now, and the moisture of the previous hours is settling into a moderate fog, settling in the lower places of the moors and vineyard.

Time: Early nighttime. There might be almost enough light to comfortably see by right this moment, but swiftly, the dying of the day is upon you. The dim and cool have passed, giving way to the dark and cold.

Ambience: The bastion of rural comfort known as the Coach House continues to warm, nourish, and provide a welcoming atmosphere, despite the best efforts of its inhabitants (unintentional or otherwise). The dominant sensory experiences remain the crackling fire, the grapeseed oil lamps, and riveting conversation. Despite the drama of the moment, an observer might not note any great amount of tension in the overall feel of events.



Amid the chaos exploding within the taproom in direct contrast to the civilized and impartial negotiations from the table, Lizbeth seemed invested. Invigorated even, as both talks and conflict drew to a cease. The stereotyped actions of professional adventurers were present for all to see, and the girl could just imagine herself in a seedy watering hole or place of ill reputation with dangerous people, contributing what skills she intended to acquire over the winter in pursuit of arcane lore, compelling quests, or rumors of that most coveted thing of all - loot. When Urmdrus gave the nod to help with her martial training, her expression became positively giddy. Reading the room, she remained quiet.

Urmdrus, on the other hand, kept stoic. There might have been the slightest flicker of something when the word "Duergar" was mentioned, but that passed instantly. He was still waiting, buckets in hand, for others to say something on the subject. Kathryn's formal introduction and notion that she was looking forward to the arrangement was enough of a confirmation for the older Dwarf, who nodded at the tall lady and gave a gruff "Hrm," to acknowledge. The words of Baronfjord required a little more explanation if he chose to answer, and one of his questions repeated that of the Bard's. It was probably one, he reasoned, to which he would have to give a response. "Make many things. Not a magician, but make many things." Staring at his unshod feet, Urmdrus further responded to the Dragonborn, "Chitin alone, not good as leather, wool for warmth." He snorted. "Good enough shoecrafter in Southmoor." But to the question now asked twice: "Assassin armor - Ankheg reinforcing leather. Segmented. Boil in oil to shape quickly, shape custom. Flexible. Tough. Ankheg plate, ankheg shield - soak in piss. Dry. Treat with oil, alcohol, fire. Chitin becomes strong like metal. Like alchemy." The last word, "alchemy," gave him a touch of trouble. But he managed nonetheless.

The tattooed Dwarf gave Victoria her own affirming nod and dropped the buckets abruptly to the floor. "Collect tomorrow after first meal." He held up a warning finger, saying flatly, "Just piss." He said this with the tenacity of a person with a specific incident in mind that still troubled him to the day. He even shuddered a little. But the questions were answered, the deal was struck, and he got some food out of it. A grunt and scratch of his nose later, Urmdrus turned and stomped back out the way he came in. To his credit, he did treat the door a little better this time. "...just piss..." he murmured to himself, trudging to the storage building within the Coach House's exterior walls and grabbing the chitin from inside, plus a respectable (but not too greedy portion of the flesh within. It took him three trips to snag everything he needed and place it into a work cart just outside of the Coach House, whereupon he lugged it off to parts unknown, presumably elsewhere in the landscape of the vineyard.

Lizbeth immediately sprung to work, gathering up dishes that needed to be cleaned and packing up unclaimed food which needed storage or disposal. Lucky for her, the night air would be plenty up to the task of short term preservation, so the majority of anything untouched (or minimally touched) went into baskets to be hung in the storage building on racks placed for this purpose. They were the same ones that held what remained of the Ankheg, so she made sure to put some distance between them. Before too long, only a moment or three, Lizbeth returned to the taproom and began to clean up the worst of the mess, what mess remained from the meal. "Aunt Ceecee usually sends people to handle cleaning when we have guests. But some things can't wait until morning." Her cheerfulness seemed to have no bounds, speaking with something close to glee even though the mundanity of chores and servants' schedules were being discussed. "But if it's alright with all of you, I am quite exhausted and I shall be readying to lay my head down. Excuse me?" With a skip to her step, almost a canter, the young lady began to gather her things and prepare for bed.

“Ohh goodie!” Kosara quipped in happy manner when Kathryn confirmed her state of soberness. Indeed the glorious use of celestial magic was very good for dealing with things like hangovers and being drunk. Truly one of the lesser known uses of Lesser Restoration, but one she learned well. What with living at a place where people got drunk every day. It was nice and easy way to deal with drunks who were annoying without hurting anybody. Plus in theory if she got drunk she might undrunk herself too. Was that a proper saying? Or was it ‘sober up’? She couldn’t rightly remember. So many interesting sayings.” No worries, glad you are back. Drunk Kathryn’s not as nice as not drunk Kathryn.” She reassured her bigger friend as a friend very well should!

Apparently sober Kathryn tried to put her down though, something that Kosara didn’t agree with on principle so she wiggled and moved her way to going piggy back on Kathryn instead. She had gotten some skinship now, she wasn’t letting go of it quite yet. Kosara very much enjoyed skin contact and closeness with people.” If it does, I’m going to deal with it again! Lesser Restoration is great!”

With that it seemed that most of the excitement was settling down finally. It’s been a long day so everybody must have felt tired. Liz was heading to rest too. The dwarven craftsman had declared his request for materials namely urine, so he was heading off too. Now that everything was calming down, Kosara yawned, still on Kathryn’s back. She really didn’t want to get off now, but… She begrudgingly let go and hopped down on the floor.” Yeah, I’m feeling tired too.” She yawned again, rubbing her eyes a bit. She was almost tempted to go lie by the fireplace here, but the floor was not warm or soft, at least upstairs the floor would be wooden planks rather than stone, but she really wanted to be near one of the fireplaces that radiated the heat when she slept… or to have somebody to snuggle with for warmth. That was another way to keep warm she knew. People were generally quite warm.

“I just want my bed near one of the fire places… I want warmth!” She stated tiredly and looked to the door.” Let’s settle in for tonight...” She yawned again and looked at the others before tiredly moving her feet to they bring her away and to the exit. Sadly this place’s access to the second floor was external. That meant they had another moment of going out in the dark cold, but nothing that can be done about it short of just tossing her blanket on one of the tables and sleeping on a table, but she wanted to try the beds. Warm soft beds sounded pretty good right now.

After the Grey Dwarf left, Victoria finally remembered the question that she wished to ask him earlier. It was shuffled aside amid the hustle and insecurities of negotiation, twice, and she was really left dumbfounded at the idea that she didn't come back to complete the thought. Or anyone, for that matter, as no one appeared to think twice when the oddly wiry Dwarf casually used the phrase "Assassin Armor," even if there was, admittedly, a question of language fluency at hand. Victoria gave this thought a moment of her time, contemplating what manner of girl Urmdrus thought she was, then mentally set it aside. Short of running after the guy in unfamiliar surroundings at night, there wasn't anything to do about this particular itch of curiosity. As long as the armor did what he said it would do, is wasn't so big an issue. And if he held a little more healthy caution about her based upon certain presuppositions or minor misunderstandings about her active adventuring profession, Victoria was just fine with it.

Also in Victoria's understanding, Lizbeth was correct. It might mean an early night for the likes of someone like herself, but this had been a long day and there was plenty to explore in this vineyard over the course of the winter. It seemed a touch daunting at first; staying the while of winter in the Avonshire region was not her plan as of a couple weeks prior. Quite frankly, she had her mind set on finding a ship headed northward, as close to her home the better, and booking passage. But this was a new experience, and Victoria did appreciate those. Plus, on a personal note, the Bard had taken a liking to little Lizbeth. Even if she didn't seem to want to learn her adventure-craft from her. Not everyone could be a Bard, she reasoned. And not everyone wanted to.

And speaking of not wanting to do things, Victoria had no desire to address the issue going on in the background of her talk with Urmdrus any more than she already had. As such, she gave parties concerned a diplomatic and nondescript smile as she cleaned up after herself and gathered what few belongings she had downstairs. "Well, I agree with Mademoiselle Lizbeth. It has been a compelling day. A compelling week or two, really. And after that delicious supper and superior bottle of wine, I believe that I am also ready to call it an evening."

Victoria took a quick accounting of her colleagues' preferences of sleeping arrangements, following the brief tour of the Coach House when they arrived. Baronfjord mentioned the central room along the back wall of the building (at least that is what she thought he had meant), Kathryn merely wished for a bed large enough for her to sleep comfortably, and Kosara wished for a bed near a fireplace. Victoria, too, wanted this. And so far, no one had offered an argument specifically for having a private room. Taking these preferences to their most logical conclusion, Victoria looked to Kosara, speaking with a matter-of-factly tone, "It looks like we are bunkmates; at least for a time. The room above the kitchen has two beds near a fireplace." She would have much rather found some excuse to take the room to herself at the other end of the building with the larger fireplace and comfortable chairs all to herself, but it seemed reasonable for Kathryn to need the leg room. Plus, if a reasonable accommodation was not objected to on her part, when she actually required one for herself (or just really wanted one), this concession would readily act as a point of leverage.

At length, Victoria retrieved her cloak and violin case. The former she twirled about herself and secured soundly; while she had not been outside since night had fallen, she did feel the incoming air when Urmdrus burst through the door and when he left. Not insurmountable discomfort by any means, but that did not mean she was going to enjoy it. Victoria almost wished that the winter season would hurry itself along and express fully so that she could acclimate to the cold and carry on. She did have one parting bit of near-sarcasm to impart before leaving: "You know... most of the time when the Knight duels the Dragon, it doesn't end well for the Knight. All those grandiose stories you hear to the contrary are survivors' bias. Or fiction." She gave a wistful smile, adding, "Of course, that is why we form adventuring parties. Lots more true stories about those."

A quick clearing of the throat and Victoria spoke to the motionless slab of tusked pork to the side of the room, "Come along, Morty. It's bedtime." The creature stirred to motion, following its mistress to the door. As if of its own accord, the largely forgotten about corvid hopped from its place on the mantle above the fireplace and flapped black, feathery wings in its journey to Victoria's outstretched arm. "Oh, and I do so apologze for not addressing the questions put to me earlier, with the intent of camaradrie, on the accounting of our unexpected guess. I will be quite happy to discuss them tomorrow, if you are still willing. I bid you a pleasant evening."

Victoria removed herself from the Taproom, swiping up one of the oil lamps and hanging the rope handle of a bucket in the crook of her elbow as she departed. It was dark outside, and darker still in the interior of the second floor. The lamp was useful if imperfect with its luminescent glow, prompting for careful steps. When inside, Victoria noted that her personal belongings most assuredly were where she had been told they would be, just inside of the main door to the second floor sleeping quarters. She bid Morty to pull the little errand cart containing her backpack, chest, and local wines to follow her.

The bedroom to the far left, be it with a few beds within, suited her purposes nicely. There were two beds near to the fireplace - she chose the one nearer to the door for herself - and set to building a quick fire with the wood present. As mucking about with a tinderbox was a thing to be avoided if she could help it, Victoria gathered up the simplest of magical energies, plucking but a few strings in the grand Orchestra of the Weave to prestidigitate a fire started. Satisfied, she doused her lamp and readied for bed.

The accommodations were straightforward but comfortable, clean, and more than adequate. Fresh linens on the beds and good, thick blankets brought a bit of warmth to the young Half-Elf's face. A quick casting of Minor Illusion set up a lovely floral privacy screen behind which she could change and see to her more private, end-of-day needs, even if it had to be recast every so often. Her clothes, boots, and person were cleaned and refreshed with appropriate castings of Prestidigitation, and Victoria slipped into modest attire consisting of black silk undergarments with respectable coverage. She preferred fine clothing of cuts and styles that held to modesty, such as it was measured by her culture and upbringing.

And so with a full belly and clear head, after a day of travel and combat, Victoria settled in for the night with Morty and her raven closely, the promise of new armor and vacation time in front of her.

Kathryn felt rightfully shameful for her actions. She had made a fool of herself, her party, had about done some actions she would have regretted, and her crude humor had taken a mean turn through her own shenanigans. It was an ugly mess to say the least. She struggled to maintain eye contact with Blackberry as he rightfully glared at her. He lightened up soon, though she felt like she deserved any scolding she got at the moment. She was ready to throw hands. Ironically enough with the one member of their group who was a rather decent expert at throwing hands. Being as wasted as she was, he could probably send her to the floor without much effort. But there's no telling what sort of harm could have been caused had she started something. Blackberry forgiving her was both a blessing and a curse. She chuckled a bit when Blackberry suggested Kathryn would out drink their supply. "I'll slow down a little... what did I have like... a bottle of wine and a drink of ale? Maybe a glass?" Though she thought about it, and that didn't seem like enough to get her Thaaaat shitfaced. Maybe she didn't eat enough at lunch? Or with dinner? Or she drank more than she thought... or some combination of all of those things. How much time had passed? Clearly not enough. She would be smarter from here. If she was going to drink to relax, she needed to at least be able to have better control of her own actions.

Blackberry had brought up an interesting idea of the two of them having a go at each other. Kathryn was always game to spare. Years ago she could spare with Ser Lucas, but the size and strength difference was so much that even though he would tend to win more often her strikes did considerably more harm. Blackberry was closest to her size of the whole party, and wasn't at a late stage of age. So that sounded like a rather fun time to her! "A chance you say? I get you into a good hold or on your back and you're pretty fucked mate." Kathryn said with a smile and and a chuckle. Not out of boasting, but because she was excited to see what the monk had to throw at her. Hell, maybe he would be doing the same. Putting her into a hold, or sending her to the floor. She was good at utilizing her size and strength, but that didn't matter if she was flat on her back unable to strike back effectively. She did however burst out with a singular loud laugh when Blackberry brought up the idea of Knights vs Dragons and how overdone it was. "In Arcanaple, the classic ending is the knight gets the princess, and slays the dragon. Though the old clans have a version where the dragon defeats the knight, and keeps the princess. Though one version of that story, the princess went to the dragon as either a fugitive, or as a woman trying to escape a dire situation." Kathryn spoke with a mysterious narrator voice, but wasn't able to hold it long before letting off a shrug. "And countless variations of those." She did note that they didn't have a princess for this scenario. But she figured if she mentioned it out loud Kosara may volunteer for another chance to have Kathryn pick her up again. Who was now wrapped around her acting as a giant buckle holding the blanket wrapped around Kathryn's body.

Kathryn couldn't help but be fascinated by how Urmdrus described working with the chitin. It was rather fascinating to hear as he gave a very short and brief explanation how the plates could be used to make armor and other apparel. A skill Kathryn wouldn't mind having, but it seemed rather situation, and unlikely to use often if ever again. She still had to learn a bit more on silver work. But the way things were going, that would get held off until the turn of spring. By then she hoped to have her family sword remade and repaired. Let it become the ceremonial piece it deserved to be, and to not use it shy of defending her home. When... she had one again. What kept catching her off guard, was that Urmdrus needed a bucket of... their piss? Fucking hell that seemed odd as hell. But the way he kept emphasizing it, it seemed weird. She couldn't help but note how unsettled he seemed to be. She didn't want to think what else could have been in that bucket...

Kathryn watched as the dwarven fellow collected the materials to do his work, and loaded it up into his cart. "It was good meeting you Master Urmdrus!" Kathryn said in an excited tone. This whole place was like its own whole world! Something to speculate, wonder, and explore! She would be doing all of those things this winter! She struggled to follow his talks of Alchemy, but overall he seemed like a smart and wise man who knew his trades rather well. Hell, maybe Kathryn would be at that level of expertise with her own skills at some point too! For now, her main employable skill was her strength, and her skill with a weapon. She was a decent enough smith too, but her skills were pretty standard. Nothing to stand out there. And her cooking skills left much room to be desired. She would get better though!

Kathryn felt her posture shift slightly as Kosara climbed off her. For a moment Kathryn forgot Kosara was still on her, but now the better range of movement was noticeable. And so was the need to keep the blanket wrapped around herself. Once adjusted again, Kathryn looked about the group as everyone took to deciding bedding. "Clearly as the person of highest noble birth the master room shall be thy own." Kathryn said in a mock noble voice. After a brief chuckle at her own what she thought was a great joke she spoke up again in her usual tone. "I'm just hoping to get a bigger bed if at all possible. It would be nice to sleep strait for once." She saw two of the rooms had such larger beds, and she figured V would probably try and go for the actual master bedroom. To her surprise though, V went for the other room with the fire place. And it seemed Kosara was going to end up bunking with her as well! "Lizbeth? Blackberry? Do either of you have a preference of where you shall be sleeping?" Kathryn wondered if she would get a room to herself. That would be a rather nice change of pace. She couldn't remember when she last had her own room that wasn't a storage closet or some hidden compartment in a floor. But a real bed, somewhere to sleep where she could sleep safely. It was something special to enjoy.

The knighted woman found herself a little unsure how to respond to V's comment about how many knights were rather brutally slain by the dragons they faced off against. Kathryn couldn't be sure if the comment was a jab or joke, so she figured she would offer a jest of her own for the bard before she left for bed. "I've heard many a version of the same story, though instead of a knight, they would be a bard. With a rather different form of fightin' going on there." Kathryn said with an amused grin on her face. Not that she took Victoria as the kind of person to bed a dragon, but she also figured V didn't think Kathryn intended to get herself killed fighting a dragon. Though, she wondered if V may have been implying BB in this case... Maybe BB could kick her ass rather well, but it would be a great experience! "Sleep well V, see ya in the 'morrow!" Kathryn exclaimed towards the bard. It was nice to have friends again.

Kathryn saw Lizbeth beginning to put their evening party mess away, and decided she couldn't let the young woman do it all herself. Taking what was left of her own stew, she brought the bowl to her lips and downed what was left. She went a little light on her meals today which firstly hurt her alcohol tolerance, and secondly made it harder for her to get stronger. She wasn't sure how much stronger she could physically get, but her strength was one of her best abilities, and she wanted to be as good as she could get it. Tomorrow would be a working out sort of day if she had anything to say on it.

Taking her now empty bowl, she began collecting bowls, cups, and empty bottles from around the pub. "Here Lizbeth, let me get that." Kathryn insisted as she gracefully took what dishware she could, and attempted to clean up a bit as well. "We're your guests, least we can do is clean up our own mess." She said wanted to help the small woman as best as she could. Though clearly not as well practiced in the ways of cleaning and such. Despite not growing up in nobility in her teen years, she still stayed with nobles on and off, at inns, public houses, and at a couple points a barracks or war camp. There were workers for these sorts of tasks, and Kathryn even though she understood them, she was clearly under prepared for such tasks. She would quickly hit the conclusion that maybe Lizbeth was better suited to such tasks. But she would still help remove the meal implements and empty bottles and put them away as best she could. Even if that was off to the side to be cleaned later... "If we wanna rearrange some of the beds we can do that too if it would make sleeping arrangements a bit better?" Kathryn offered. The beds were heavier than Kosara, but still not too much of a challenge for the tall woman. At least the twin beds. The double wide beds, king or queen beds? Their size along was tricky to manage. But definitely doable.

„That works, thank you.” Kosara nodded to V who told her they would be sharing a room. It wasn’t something unusual for the tielfing. She had spend her life sharing a room with her sisters back home and now back in Avonshire the party did share the barnloft so it was all good. She yawned again sleepily and looked at the others.” Have a good night, everybody. See you all tomorrow.” She gave everybody a smile and began making her way following in V’s steps, out the doorway and up to the second floor. The moment she stepped outside, the pale tiefling shivered from the chill on the night’s air… It was cold. It made her feel briefly more awake, but then quickly, wrapped herself better in her coat and went up the stairs, getting back into the building’s second floor.

Following the directions to the ‘room above the kitchen’, she went down the wood covered halls to the room in question without thinking too much about it. By the time she had reached their room for the night, V had gotten a fire going and had hidden behind a magical illusion for privacy. The tielfing just shuffled to the bed on the other side of the fireplace which was by one of the windows. She just hoped the fire place would provide enough heat tonight. The beds looked frankly amazing at that point in time.

Kosara slowly took off her bag, placing it by the bed, and began stripping down layers of clothing she wore. Which as a whole wasn’t all that much. Once the warm coat was down and mostly folded next to her bag, the shirt she wore underneath, her pants and the boots were quickly taken off all lined by the bed, leaving her in her scantly covering underwear. With the clothes off she began using prestidigitation to clean up the worse of the dried out gunk on her. She REALLY needed a proper bath tomorrow. She had an idea on what to do and it was a pretty good idea so Kosara decided she’d do it the first thing in the morning. Though with her basically naked and her skin now clean, she got into the clean and surprisingly warm and soft bed, curling up in it and wrapping tightly with the blankets until almost her entire body was hidden in the cloth cacoon she had created. Its been a long and tiring day, it was time to rest. Tomorrow was going to be another great day full of interesting things and adventure, but for now… it was hopefully blissful sleep. Well it would have been until she opened her eyes not even am inute later since sleepign sideways meant her horns were keeping her head at an angle, so she was forced to return to sleeping on her back.

BlackBerry nodded politely to the Master Craftsmans explanation, and then appreciatively took a mental note of the Shoecrafter in Southmoor thinking that once they had all settled and gathered their barrings over the coming days a little excursion could be planned. While Madame L’Rose had said their stock would be refreshed weekly there would undoubtedly be something they would need over the coming weeks. He had, of course, chuckled good naturedly as at the comments around old tales of dragons, knights, bards, and princess’s escaping such, quietly intrigued by the various tales the others had heard over their lives. But it would be a conversation for another day, possibly after his and Lady Kathryns sparring match, which he was delighted to hear her wholeheartedly agree to.

“I would daresay a good deal more than just a bottle and a glass.” His eyes drifted towards the undoubtedly now lighter barrel of ale Lady Kathryn had been enjoying earlier.

Master Urmdrus’s departure, stressing beyond just general insistence that only piss be in the buckets, triggered and almost exodus from the taproom as the others began to file away to bed. While he had originally planned and even begun to volunteer to lend a hand with clean up it became quickly apparent that Lizbeth, with Lady Kathryns help, had everything in hand. Young Lizbeth was a marvellous host indeed, he would have to commend the young girls behaviour to her Aunt when the party returned her in the morning.

Waving away Victorias apology for not answering his question earlier, he said. “No need to worry at all, Victoria. I am glad to hear you did not take my questioning the wrong way. Now, off with you to bed and we may continue our conversations in the morning when we are all refreshed. Sleep well, same to you as well Kosara.”

The tale-tale thud-thud-thud of the cart wheel being pulled up the stairs by Morty soon came after Victoria and her undead swine had left the room, with Kosara following shortly after. Each time the door opened a small gust of the cold wind slipped into the taproom and BlackBerry wasn’t quite ready just yet to face it on his own journey to his room. There was still one matter of business left.
“Well until then, it seems Young Lizbeth you do have several options for accommodation available to you. I would assume Victoria and Kosara would not say no to you bunking with them in the same room though if you prefer?” Turning in his chair to face Lady Kathryn he then answered, “Myself? The bedroom at the back will do me well as it appears none are against the arrangement.”

The idea of staying here, in Avonshire, on the L’Rose estate finally started to settle on BlackBerry. A whole Winter. A few weeks at least, possibly more depending on how blocked the roads became with snow. Sitting at the now empty table he drummed without any rhythm or pattern with his claws upon the wood. An entire Season here.

“Time marches on, yet still I am forced to be.” His heavy thoughts tumbled out quietly and apparently without his own notice. “Still, may as well make the best of it.”

Not that he had any leads, or any of anything really. All he had was a restless, frantic energy boiling beneath the dread of the future and tiredness of the day. Slapping the table to break himself out of his spiralling thoughts, BlackBerry took a breath as he stretched up from the chair with a popping of joints and a small sigh.

“Well, Lady Kathryn, I hope you don’t mind but I shall excuse myself as well. I must admit it has been not an overall eventful day but certainly a long one. I shall be much glad to rest my head somewhere warm and dry for the evening.” He commented as he headed towards the door, intent on making his own way to bed. “We certainly must find some way to repay this kindness during our stay. A meal or two certainly would not go amiss either I say.”

His foot tapped against the other bucket sitting empty on the floor. BlackBerry, with his hand still on the door handle, looked down at the empty bucket and then back towards Lady Kathryn. Victoria had taken the other bucket with her leaving the obvious even split of both buckets and party members.

“If you do not mind I shall provide my share of the payment in the morning. Goodnight!”

Weather: A solid, almost crystalline coldness settled quietly over the Rose River Vineyard. Partly cloudy skies continued to drop tiny, almost imperceptible slivers of icy water earthward while fog settled in the dips and hollows of the countryside.

Time: It is firmly within the grasp of nighttime. The night is young, but the sun has solidly retired for the evening.

Ambience: Stars twinkled far overhead alongside a waning moon, causing a quiet show of celestial brilliance in all places the cloud cover allowed. As far as the eye could see, the high places of the land greatly resembled a close-set archipelago, clustered within the sea of settled fog. The main house of the estate stood out as a grand silhouette, dotted with dim light barely filtering through thick curtains. Within the Coach House, things are slowing. The hearthfire in the Taproom has burned low, as has the fire in the kitchen; metal screens now cover each to hopefully prevent a catastrophic, building-wide blaze. Lingering, ambient heat remains downstairs, cooling very slowly in the night.

The individual bedrooms upstairs have their own peculiarities, but a few features in common are apparent. Windows are tight and fit snugly in their frames, refusing to let through the lightest of drafts unless unshuttered and opened deliberately. The glass is clear, allowing unblemished views of the vineyard grounds beyond. The fireplaces are not as large as those downstairs and share a chimney with them, their purpose being to heat a much smaller room. They provide just enough light for the average Human to navigate without tripping over their own beds but not a lot more. Those beds were quite adequate to facilitate a decent night of rest, being good, stuffed mattresses of tough quilted material upon sturdy wooden frames. Linen sheets and thick blankets dress them, and each feature comfortable, goose-down pillows. The atmosphere is one of measured hospitality.



As the evening turned to night and the great diurnal switch flipped, the land and activities of those who tend the land rolled to an expected cessation. Occasional gusts of wind blew cast aside bits of the vineyard's unsecured foliage about, leaving a quiet rustle in the night. These were largely unnoticed by those settling in for the night, as the quiet hisses and crackles of their bedrooms' fires drowned out all but the most aggressive of incidental sounds outside.

Lizbeth took to her self-appointed duties as a servant might, despite the fact that she was their host, or one of them at least. It wasn't quite the worst of it, either. Just things which required immediate storage or things which could be rinsed out. As she and her aunt had mentioned that the Coach House would be seen to by the vineyard's service staff, Lizbeth's goal was only to make it easier for them when they arrived the next morning. To wit, she was finished in very short order and ran a quick cloth over the table which recently held their supper. She seemed happy, overall. And happy for any help that she received, even if she insisted that it wasn't necessary.

The news that Kathryn was taking the large, private room on the righthand side of the second floor gave her a resigned look which showed disappointment for only a moment before an idea crossed her mind. She bid those who were still getting settled in a pleasant night and took off at jog for the last bedroom down the hallway - the group one chosen by Kosara and Victoria. There was a second look of disappointment as she saw that both of the beds nearest the fireplace were already taken, followed swiftly by another optimistic idea for herself. "Hi! I hope it's okay if I stay with you tonight." She motioned to the fireplace and an extra bed, silently disclosing the motivations for her presence. Without further word, she found her way to one of the beds and quickly discarded her outer layers of clothing, leaving neutrally colored, covering garments underneath that, while probably not appropriate to receive company, were more than adequately modest for sleeping in friendly company.

She spotted the neatly folded clothing that, based upon the black, grey, and obvious purple of the fabric, had to belong to Victoria laid out upon her travel chest, and marveled, "Those are so pretty! Sometime, may I please try on some of these?" Her continuing optimism and curiosity about things from far away was considered by many to be an endearing asset, even if it was a little pushy sometimes. Her own attire was something more middle-class. Tough, utilitarian, and of good quality (in the manner of a country lady), but nothing quite as stylish as the Bard's. Even so, her tone was one of interest, not of envy.

Instead of settling into a bed as one might, given the situation, little Lizbeth grabbed hold of one of the mattresses with both hands and hauled it off of the bed frame, onto the smooth hardwood floor below. She looked to Kosara, bundled within her burrito o' blankets and softly said, "Sorry! I don't mean to disturb you. Just want a little closer to the fire." She smiled and dragged the mattress into the middle of the floor, positioned as to be near the better radiation of heat without blocking Victoria or Kosara's unfettered access to it. She lay down and pulled a blanket over her, and with a yawn, commented,"Thank you for taking up Aunt Cecily's offer for the winter. It's going to be nice having all of you around." Her eyes became heavy, as might happen when one did not know how truly exhausted they were until they lay their head down, and began to slip off into slumber.

Far into the night, when sleep was at its deepest and the world around them was silent, the small form of Lizbeth grew still, even more still than hard sleep could explain. Her chest ceased the rhythmic up-and-down movements of respiration. Skin grew cold and pale. The color around her eyes and her lips darkened. No breath, no flutter of heartbeat, no discernible sign life could be detected, even if anyone was awake to witness the passing. All was still and silent, save for the muted, white noise of a dying fire.


The next morning, the fires in the upper level bedrooms had gone down to embers. They could be resurrected rather readily with minimal help, but the heat which it put off was now subdued to a level that wasn't amazingly helpful. Still, the bedrooms were far more comfortable (as far as temperature was concerned) then the outside. Light filtered into rooms through curtains, providing a tiny amount of extra illumination to mark the coming day. The group bedroom, to the far lefthand side of the upper floor, provides an extra surprise: The mattress which was on the floor had found its way back to the bed from which it came, and the sheets returned with a precision. Even corners.

The otherwise quiet of the Coach House was interrupted by the sounds of something metal dropping, and the exclamation of "Darn it!" muffled through the floor. A gust of wind picked up outside, and for most, staying under the blanket for as long as possible might seem overall preferable to venturing out into the whole of the room, now somewhat colder than the evening before.

One setting foot outside of the second floor would notice a blanket of tiny frost crystals covering most of the surfaces around them. The sun reflected and refracted from this, glittering back a lovely display of the late fall/early winter artistry of nature. It was definitely colder than previous mornings - it had to have dipped below freezing sometime over the night - though this didn't stop the first of the laborers from ambling to work across the vineyard, tending to the slower season's duties. One's breath assuredly condensed in these lower temperatures, giving the impression of exhaling smoke with every go. The same tiny crystals of ice thinly coated the stairs down to the ground floor just as much as they coated everything else, making those handrails a necessity more than a luxury.

Inside of the taproom below, it was already warm - at least near to the bar and kitchen area. While the hearth was not lit, the kitchen fire was. A pot of water was set to boil and a selection of a handful of teas were made available by a friendly face, and whomever entered first was hit with a full force blast of "Good morning! I made tea! Kind of." It was, naturally, Lizbeth. She cheerily told a quick and simple tale of, "I was making tea, but I dropped the hot water all over the floor before I could steep anything, so... a few more minutes!" Probably less than that, but she didn't want to raise expectations. "It's an herbal blend of grape leaves and dried pear peel! Made it myself." Lizbeth seemed proud of her accomplishment, even being something as simple as morning tea. "Aunt Ceecee said something about a brunch, and I don't know if that was supposed to be today or another time, so I didn't do a breakfast. But there's stuff here, lots of stuff. If you're hungry. Anyway, um... Tea soon!"

Lizbeth smiled and returned to the kitchen, cheerful as ever.

Sleep was… well sleep. Maybe it was the degree of fatigue from last night, but the night had been oddly… restful. Kosara woke up without much fanfare, but with a wide stretch of her arms and a yawn. Looking around the room as she was trying to disentangle herself from the various blankets and bedsheets she had wrapped herself in for warmth last night, she tried to recall where she was and how she got here for the first few moments.

It took a few blinks, but her memories from yesterday settled in and arranged in line with the rest of their ilk as the haze of the sleep lifted off her completely. Now almost naked in the somewhat cool air, she frowned and hurried to put on her clothing that was in a neat pile by her bags. She vaguely recalling Liz’s voice from last night while she was drifting off to the lands of dreams. It all checked out so she nodded to herself and dressed up, frowning as something was not quite right. She was forgetting something… The tiefling was annoyed since she wasn’t recalling it until it suddenly clicked as she was fixing her coat. BATH! That was what she was forgetting from last night. She wanted a bath, but there were no tubs as far as she could see, but she had an idea to fix that issue!

Now dressed she got up, took a step, halted, turned back, fixed the bed first and then left the room, then out the front door of the second floor, the cold air hit her right away as she felt a shiver run down her back. She had just exited from the warm cozy bed!’ Focus! Bath first!’ She reminded herself as she slowly got down the stairs, careful to not slip or something then before heading off into the tavern proper, she went to check the storage buildings until she found herself a barrel. It wasn’t one of the biggest barrels there were, but it was clean enough and judging form the size it was big enough for her needs if she was to fill it partway with water! The water edge was going to rise after she got in after all and she didn’t want to send water everywhere! How she knew that? Experience not with barrel baths of course, but similar enough. That was going to be her bath! She also located a bucket to haul water with.

With a newfound purpose, she started rolling the barrel to the tavern proper and carefully got it inside, to the voice of Lizbeth.” Good morning, Liz! I would love some tea!” Kosara cheerfully greeted back at the younger girl with a huge grin.” I’m moving this barrel to the kitchen! Can you set a bigger cauldron or something on the fire to heat some water in a bit, please?” She asked, grinning.” Think this barrel would be a perfect bath! Be right back.” She stated flatly as she rolled it over to the kitchen and pushed it back standing. Then she grabbed a bucket and began hauling water to fill the barrel partway and then some to put on the fire to heat up. By the end of it there standing in the kitchen a bit closer to the left wall than the middle was the barrel that now had a stepping stool next to it. From inside the barrel there was soft steam coming out from the water that the tiefling had mixed up to a pleasant hot, but not scalding degree. Then without any time wasting, she took off her bag, putting it to the side, she undid her braid, which revealed just much hair she had and how long it was as it now fell as snow mantle over her tanned skin. Then after hurriedly undressing all the way, she hopped into the barrel with nary a care for her nudity. Communal baths were a thing back home after all.

Kosara let out a very loud sound of blissful pleasure as the hot water covered her form and her hair soaked in the water.” Ahh perfect~” She moaned out in joy. She hadn’t had a proper warm bath since forever. She then blinked and looked at Liz.” Wana join? The barrel’s big enough!” Also, what was modesty?

The cleanup was short and easy. The detailed work would be handled by staff in the morning thankfully, as Kathryn's skill in the cleaning department were lacking. But she was happy to lend a hand! "Sleep well!" Kathryn would pass off to everyone one by one as they ran off to bed. Once Lizbeth was done with her work, Kathryn had walked outside with the young woman, but instead of going strait up to the bedroom like Lizbeth, she spent a moment in the little courtyard looking up at the stars. Now wrapped up in her blanket, her belt that held the sheath for her Family's sword wrapped over her shoulder, she felt at peace. It was a nice change of pace, but it wasn't sitting well with her. She felt like a deep water fish, used to being under constant stress and pressure, and then suddenly, things are better, normal feeling almost. It almost felt like she could explode from the extreme lack of pressure and stress! And in a way, she did. She seemed to have dealt with it by trying to smother herself with enough booze to kill a horse. Good to know she could out drink such a creature though. She was struggling to find out where to fit in this lifestyle. She never relaxed well. She was either in work mode, or she would explode. Generally coming off as totally carefree, reckless, fearless in all the worst ways. Looking up into the night sky, it felt so open and free. Taking in a deep breath, letting it all out, she repeated the process a few times before she straitened up. She needed to maintain herself better. But she also had to maintain her guard and social standing. She was a professional, and she needed to act like one.

Confidence reassured, Kathryn felt she could return to bed without overthinking herself into her dreams. She stepped far heavier than she meant too, but picked up her bags, and set them into what would be her room for the time being. Maybe even the whole winter? That would be nice. A large comfortable bed, nice quality chairs, a fire place, and even a nice looking dresser. It felt rather homely to the tall woman. Kathryn finally unwrapped the sword belt and blanket from her person, setting the sword by her bedside near the hammer, and the blanket onto the bed to be cocooned into later. All to reveal a rather moderately dressed Kathryn in the common comfortable clothes she had just purchased to sleep in. Kathryn still being used to being encased in steel, and still very self conscious of her own person, still felt the thick blanket was needed. BUT!!! Now she had her own room!!! After spending several agonizing minutes attempting to use a tinderbox to start the fireplace, it sprung up with a little spruce to get it going, and another wood type Kathryn was too tired to care about identifying to continue the flame. She would be warm tonight on this chilly evening.



Kathryn slept like a pile of potatoes tossed into a cellar to be stored away over the winter. She not only slept good, she slept likely better than she had in a rather long time! She felt super well rested, and judging by the barely dim light the sun hadn't quite poked its head out. What a perfect time to get a start on her day! Kathryn neatened up her bed, and laid out a few outfits across it. She would for sure be taking the hammer and her family sword to breakfast. One as its ceremonial piece, and the other as her personal defense weapon. That, and she didn't want to risk losing either. So wearing her armor made sense. Buuuuut... she also had a rather pretty dress she wouldn't mind wearing. Yes she had grown a few inches in the upwards category since she had acquired it, but she was confident in her ability to make it work. And, a chance to dress nicely to impress their hosts? Even better! But the more she thought on it, the more she had doubts. Firstly, the dress really drew a lot of attention to her chest, something that while she wore armor wasn't a concern. But she was not a small woman by any definition, and that area was included. She worried it would give the wrong impression if she went from extreme professional and modesty, to "HEY LOOK HERE ARE MY TIDDIES" overnight. On top of that, the L'Rose family had been won over with her strength and skill with a weapon. Not by her social charm and her looks. Trying to lean into that when she was at best rusty in such life skills, could easily end in disaster. Another reason against the pretty dress, is she wanted to get some training in before breakfast. Primarily strength training and cardio. Sure, old magic helped and gave her an advantage, but if she ever came up against someone who could also leverage an advantage of that kind or similar, she wanted to stay ahead as much as she could. Armor it would be. Plus, it was a new set. It was surprisingly comfortable, it was well made, and she liked how she looked in it too.

Using some rope, a wooden pole she found, and a couple full barrels of wine from the cellar, Kathryn set herself up in the courtyard using the wooden pole as a lever, but primarily holding the two barrels of wine via ropes she tied around and under them. With the leverage the pole provided, she lifted with her knees, and began walking in full kit down the roadway. It was not a fast walk, but a few times she found herself able to speed walk it a bit, before having to slow down to prevent herself from falling over. She could keep a decent marching pace at her slowest as she walked, only stopping occasionally to make sure her grip on the rope and pole were solid. Carrying the barrels full of liquid proved much more of a challenge than much of her other work out habits, but she was enjoying the feeling of her muscles being pushed to their raw limit. She wished she kept track of how many times she walked back and forth before her leg began to give out. Thankfully when it began to show signs of quitting, she was on the return trip of her lap. She was sure she would fine better routes as winter went on. But the cool air today made it easier for Kathryn to fight off the pain. The ice particles reminded her she was a force of nature, as not even snow or ice could slow her down. Only her own will as her leg began to lose strength. She let out deep guttural grunts through her helmet as she brought the barrels back towards the couch house. Soon her other leg would join the first, ready to call it quits, her back and one of her arms soon began to protest the closer they got back to the former inn. She let out the labored breaths through the rim and sockets of the metal dome as she walked, her body and mind knowing she was almost done, but wanting to badly to quit now. Apart of her wanted to cheat, use her magic and make the home stretch that much easier. But she knew if she did that she couldn't claim this victory for herself.

While her body felt ready to contort into the quickest position that would bring it to the floor, Kathryn realized, she had made it. The front door to the couch house was right infront of her. She wanted to badly to drop to her knees and celebrate, but she was also carrying an ungodly amount of wine. If she dropped too fast, the courtyard would be drenched in a sweet summer wine. Bending her knees to let the barrels gently rest a few feet from the front door, she felt as all of the pressure began to release. And as if the moment the barrels were released from her, her body felt like it had done enough, and she collapsed to the ground, landing on her knees, her arms now resting in the same mash of ropes while using the same pole she used to leverage the wine, to support herself. She let out an almost maniacal chuckle suppressed by the metal casing surrounding her head. And all before breakfast! Which now, she felt she could eat every fucking chicken on this fucking vineyard.

She freed her arms from the makeshift lift, and attempted to stand, only to find her arms and legs unresponsive. With a disappointed grunt, she slowly regained control of her arms, and undid her helm. Enjoying some nice cool water as she let her body catch up to her mind. With another grunt, she then stood up, legs weak, but recovering, and soon she finished off the water. Placing the helm on her belt, she stumbled into the inn, ready to see who else had gotten up in this time. She vaguely heard the sounds of conversations, but it wasn't until she stepped in that she took note of Kosara and Lizbeth.

What she did not expect when she got inside was Lizbeth already preparing a morning tea for everyone! How sweet! Then... she saw Kosara. "Oh uhm.... wow okay...." Kathryn said trying to avoid staring at what she assumed was her friend naked in a barrel in the middle of their kitchen area. Realizing she wasn't the only witness, she took her gloved and mildly shaking hand to block Lizbeth's line of sight. "Kosara, is this the best place to be taking a bath? Its kind of... in the middle of everything." She was sure Kosara meant nothing nefarious by it, but the woman clearly held no shame for herself. Something Kathryn wished she could say the same, but not quite to that extent.

Morning came, and with it an odd sense of purpose. Victoria had the opinion that, if they were going to be in this place for three months (give or take), she was going to reinforce her existing abilities and work hard to incorporate her newer ones into her repertoire as an adventuring Bard. It was a new day, coming into a new season, and she was rising in power. Yes, the most would be made of this opportunity. Now if she could just find a few willing people to practice her magics on, things would be just peachy. Or a gaggle of deceased ones. That might work, too. Being a secondary student of Necromancy, she already had a list of things she could use a cadaver for - today. But without these things, she would have to improvise. Music, and the musical mindset, was the means by which she manipulated the Weave of Magic, and if she could not practice direct spellwork, then she would strengthen her fundamentals therein even as she wrote and performed more complex, more impassioned music; strengthening her connection to her arcane arts.

First, she had to get herself out of bed. This was key. And while she was immensely disciplined in matters of music, magic, and pursuits involving her own vanity, Victoria's appreciation of creature comforts occasionally counterproductive to the image of that discipline. It was no surprise that she was the last one out of their bedroom that morning. The fire was low; mere embers at this point, and a greater chill was upon the room than was there the previous evening. No matter, she was getting up anyway. Preparations to seize the day were upon the young and talented Bard.

Victoria took advantage of the lack of people in the room and deftly shed her black silk undergarments, still beneath the blankets of her bed as she was not ready to face the cold just yet. She bunched them together and cast a simple Prestidigitation three times: Once to clean and freshen them, twice to smooth out any wrinkles that had accumulated over the night, and a third time to gently warm the garment to something perfectly comfortable with which she could stave off the cold for just long enough to get into something more appropriate to the weather. After slipping things back on, Victoria dared to exit the blankets and gingerly put her feet upon the floor. It was warmer than she expected. Someone was working in the kitchen, below.

After a quick, personal cleanup and a touch of cosmetics, Victoria donned the clothing she had left out for herself the night before. It felt good to dress in decent, fitting clothing with just a touch of extra to them, and in her signature colors of purple, grey, and black. Like the field uniform of a soldier ready to perform their duties, just without all of that unsightly marching and yelling. She looked equally ready to travel, play a concert, or engage in magical combat. And even if a fight was not forthcoming in the near future, she took it upon herself to buckle on her favorite dagger (always use your own blade, a maxim from her father) and her now expertly silvered rapier, a beautiful weapon decorated with vine and leaflike inlays of the lunar-associated metal which gave the obvious Human construction a touch of an Elven look, which she was immensely happy about. Victoria wondered if she was going to let the silver intentionally blacken for the look of it, as many did with their armor, or keep it to a vivid, reflective polish. "Hmm... I should decide later," she reasoned with herself. Procrastination about issues not immediately important was another of her weaknesses, were she being honest with herself. But to word of the immediately important which could not bear the curse of The sudden desire to make use of a chamberpot took hold of her, now that she was up and moving about. Far be it for her to risk a sudden entry to the room and see her in a compromised position, Victoria conjured up the illusion of a small privacy screen and made use of The Bucket. Too bad there wasn't a lid. But it did remind her - didn't they have their own magical chamberpot in their group belongings? She was sure that they did.

In the tradition of Bards making an exit, even when there was no one to witness it, Victoria swept on her cloak and placed her especially bardy hat upon her head, took up her violin and ritual book (both of which she slung across her back), and strode toward the door. At the last moment before leaving, Victoria stopped and sighed. Of course, they had a deal in play. She recovered the bucket and, carrying it slightly away from her by its rope handle, sauntered with as much dignity that she could muster down the hall and out into the fresh morning. A quick mental command saw Morty following at her heel.

Still holding that godsforsaken bucket, Victoria took just a moment to gaze across the frost-covered land around her, beyond the outer walls of the Couch House. It was quite a lovely sight, and the cold coloring her cheeks did nothing to detract from the moment. Not quite so much as a container of liquid "leavings". Snapped back to the waiting world of bucket responsibilities, the descent of the stairs was made. One step. Two steps. Three - and then tragedy. Well, almost. The slip of a foot upon a portion of stair that had already been tread across, the frost loosened from it but not removed, and a person of lesser grace might have taken a tumble. With the bucket. Instead, Victoria pivoted and sidestepped twice down the stairs, arresting her uncontrolled plummet with at least a quart of her associates' cold urine. As quickly as she dared, the stairs were navigated and she left the bucket near to the front gate, just a touch off to the side.

Victoria did not go into the Taproom immediately. She took the moment and empty courtyard to warm up her voice and test the acoustics of the place. She started by vocalizing a few scales at first, easing into volume from something meek to something powerful before going through a few classic vocal exercises. Nothing involving lyrics. Pure melody, showcasing the range and clarity of her honeyed voice and lung capacity. Then she went into something more free of notion, choosing in the moment the order of note after note, just to enjoy herself. She did not reach for her violin. This was not a time to limber her fingers with bow and strings. The nimbleness of her voice and strength with which she used it were fully enough. As she reached the apex of her vocalizations, her raven Familiar manifested in the Material Plane with a flutter of black feathers and lighted on her outstretched arm. Victoria smiled. It was time to go back inside.

The enigmatic Bard gently opened the front door and stepped inside. Her raven found a comfortable spot on the mantle while Morty simply remained at her heel, per usual, until he came fully inside. The necromantic animation then pushed the door closed and took up the same spot by the wall that it did the previous evening. There was no greeting from those already up and about before her; point of fact there wasn't anyone in this room at present. Victoria unloaded her book, violin, and swordbelt on the nearby table and went into the kitchen, where she did hear people.

"Kosara, what..?" was all she could say at first, turning to one side with indecision as to whether she should avert her eyes, or if the damage was done from a social standpoint. One might have also noticed the blush starting to color her cheeks. Luckily, she could blame the cold outside for this, but not for too much longer as she was now in a warm room. Victoria glanced to Lizbeth, who looked to be preparing some sort of herbal tea, and mentioned, "This is not the custom here, and she is still a child, Kosara." Victoria offered over her cloak, imploring, "Please. We may find someplace more appropriate later."

In an effort to change topic, Victoria looked to their host, saying, "I would absolutely love a cup of your tea, Mademoiselle Lizbeth. Is that grape leaf?" The blush was, unfortunately, staying on her face even as she continued holding the cloak out for her associate.

BlackBerry fought hard against waking up. He pulled the blanket over his head and curled up tight to shield himself from the light clawing in from the cracks between the curtains, and the very, very cold world outside his little warm bubble. It worked…for all of ten minutes until a loud crash from below jolted him back awake.

Bracing himself against the cold cold he peeked his head out from his warm cocoon and listened intently to the world below. The cold of the night had managed to slink into his room and was now turning his breath to fog in front of his face. His hearing strained to hear a small voice, unmistakably Lizbeth, say something he couldn’t make out but nothing more. Whatever she had said didn’t sound to him to have been in any pain or distress. Plus his bed was still very nice, warm, and very comfortable making it a very nice change of pace from sleeping under trees or whatever inn he could usually afford.

More signs of life continued to emerge; he could hear someone emerging from Victoria and Kosaras room, and then someone else several minutes later. In his comfortable doze he waited to see if he could hear any movement from Lady Kathryns room. He could hear more voices and movement coming from downstairs suggesting that the others were already awake for the day, leaving him as possibly the last to emerge, other than Lady Kathryn who he still couldn't hear anything off from her room.

He then remembered, just as nature decided to call, the deal he and the rest of the party had made. BlackBerry tried to fight it. He tried to turn over and hide from the oncoming call but it was of no use, no matter how cosy and warm he got nature continued her battle cry that all creatures, man and beast felt in the rising rays of dawn. The party had made a deal and nature was going to make certain the deal would be upheld.

He needed to piss.

With begrudgment rivalling winds against mountains he left the warm safety of the blanket and set about dressing himself in all his clothes, comprised only of his robes, shirt and jacket, in an effort to ward off the cold. He could hear someone singing outside and he paused in his morning routine to appreciate the formless but pleasant vocalisations confirming his suspicion of who had just gone outside. This followed by a splash of water, and a brush of the teeth to ready himself for the day. His bag was left alongside the swords leaning against the dresser.

Stepping outside he was greeted by the small gust of wind, bringing with it promise of colder days to come. He shivered and pulled his jacket closer in protest against the weather. His feet crunched upon the thin layer of ice that had formed on the stairs during the night. He made sure as he descended the icy stairs that he had a good hold of the hand rail.

“Good morning everyone! I do hope you all slept…” Stepping inside his joyful greeting quickly faded in the empty room, save for the undead swine dutifully standing to one side. “I shan’t say how you likely slept.” He closed the door behind him. “Hello? Anyone around?”

Kosara was having a very nice time in her lil barrel of warmth and cleanness. It wasn’t like the big baths back home where she was bathing with her sisters or other ladies form the tavern, but it was nice. The nice scent of tea was also a nice addition. She was humming happily as her soap was floating around in a Mage Hand and was used as needed. A frankly genius use of the cantrip as far as the pale tiefling was concerned. Using the Mage Hand cut down on the time needed to properly clean her long white hair a lot! Sadly her very good time wasn’t meant to be as eventually her VERY good friend stormed into the kitchen for a reason or another and just as she was about to tell her about this genius idea and see what the warrior woman thought for it, she did in fact shear what Kathryn thought of it and Kosara’s happy expression turned into a pout! Her hair still soapy as she crouched deeper into the barrel and submerged her head to rinse the soap of it as she got her head out of the water again, hair clinging to skin and water running down her face. She ran her hand over her face a few times to get most of the water off.

“First of all, I’m not in the middle of everything. I’m near the wall and not in the middle of the kitchen!” Kosara replied to Kathryn in a matter of fact tone.” Second, the kitchen is smaller, with a fire place and stone flooring. Meaning, it’s easier to warm up, can be warmed up and water won’t ruin the floor or something!” The tiefling added in a great pout. Then V arrived too and gave her piece of opinion, causing Kosara to squack in indignation.” Soooooo…? What do you mean, children here don’t bathe or something?” Kosara asked, getting a very weird feeling this was some kind of culture based problem she was missing. Were the people from the north like how that one old woman back home said? That everybody here were barbarians who didn’t bathe properly and often enough.” Where? It’s too cold here to bathe just everywhere and I’ve not seen a single bathing room anywhere!” She replied in somewhat offended voice.


By the end of it, Kosara’s face was one of full indignation and angry harmless fury as she stood up.” I finally had a chance for a proper bath, but FINE!” Water was running off her as got out of the barrel, and didn’t take V’s cloak, instead picking her blanket she had prepared just for this, wrapping herself in it to soak up the water." Don't need to mess you cloak. Blanket soaks better." She picked up her bag and clothes and moved over to sulk by the fireplace, muttering something in heavy accent about northern barbarians, lack of bathing and smells.

Weather: The air was cold and crisp despite the rising orange sun, which passed across the land unfettered by cloud cover. It was clear. Light winds gusted occasionally, carrying sharper notes of the fast approaching winter.

Time: Morning, first and finally. The long night had passed without obvious incident and the sun just crested the hills fully. It was still low in the eastern sky, indicating a decidedly early morning.

Ambience: The sky was clear, but a lingering fog remained in the hollows of the land, soon to be dissolved away as sunlight crests the hills fully. A twinkling layer of frost covered most untouched surfaces, reminding one that the throes of winter were very soon to arrive. It is a lovely morning, if one does not mind the cold.

Within the Taproom of the Coach House, a low fire burns in the hearth and the lighting is limited to a couple of lamps, and whatever is let in from the main door opening. The detailed aspects of cleaning up have been left from the previous evening - whomever was supposed to handle this did not appear overnight - but it is tidy enough to appear cheerfully lived-in as opposed to sloppy. After all, how much crud could accumulate in just a few hours, especially with an attentive host?



Helping to set up a bath in the middle of the kitchen was not something Lizbeth had considered doing while getting tea together for everyone who wanted it, but the fire was hot and the cauldron of water was available to serve. And it was no bother at all! Especially for one of the people who saved her Aunt Cecily and kept her from harm during the Harvestide unpleasantness.

Admittedly, she was a little surprised when the Tiefling that she was alone in the room with stripped down immediately and entered the barrel of warm water. She stood quietly, unsure whether to avert her eyes or pretend that this was fully normal, as (she hoped) this was likely a cultural difference. being born on this land and growing up in rural Avonshire, Lizbeth was not a worldly young woman. Technically, she wasn't even a woman just yet. There was another year and a couple months before that was official. This surprise turned to shock when Lizbeth was asked if she wished to join her in the barrel, prompting a series of broken sentences that were meant as a polite refusal. "Sorry, um, that is, Mademoiselle Kosara... I couldn't, ah... I'm not, understand, comfortable with..."

Kathryn's arrival broke an amount of tension, allowing Lizbeth to let out a sigh. She turned around to pay more attention to the tea than was specifically necessary, repeating in brief the offer of tea for those as they walked in. She seemed glad for the diversion. The cheerful expression that had faded from just before was returned, uncomfortably at first until it settled in more naturally. "I'm going to finish this up in the hearthfire. And toast - does anyone want toast? Or is tea okay? Excuse me, please." Be it a little forced in delivery, Lizbeth gathered up a few items on a tray and left the kitchen for the taproom as quickly as she dared, to the table nearest the fire therein.

The remarkably short journey to the main room saw Lizbeth stopping short. Expecting to see an empty room to which she might escape an embarrassing situation, the young woman found a raven on the mantle, a whole, smoked pig to the side of the room, and a blue Dragonborn Monk looking slightly confused. She paused for a half-second out of surprise but quickly put on a positive expression, saying, "Oh, hello, Monsieur BB. I, um... Tea?" She moved over to her chosen place by the hearth fire with her laden tray and continued the tail end of her work.

Not to long after the tea and toast were prepared, a knock sounded at the main door. "Hello?" The door inched open just enough to admit a head, covered by a simple hood. It belonged to a Human male approaching middle years, slender, and speaking with a decidedly local accent. "Myself and the madame are here to housekeep. May we enter now?"

Another voice could be heard, gruff but feminine more than not, "They ain't gone yet? Thought them adventuring types carried way too many knives and left to perform acts of derring do way before dawn!"

The door swung open more fully now, to reveal the pair, the man apparently being shuffled in by his less patient spouse. "Very sorry about that," said the rather flustered fellow, "We'll try to manhandle your personal belongings as little as possible. Did you want us to start upstairs first, or in the kitchen? Oh, did we interrupt something?"

Things proceeded to take a more awkward and difficult turn as they continued. She figured maybe something like this was perfectly normal and acceptable in her own culture and lands, but that would have to be a talk they would have to have together at some point how it was a little less acceptable in these parts. Or a lot of lands. Thankfully it was easy for Kathryn to avert Lizbeth's eyes from the whole ordeal. "Baths are important Kosara, but there is a time and place for it." Kathryn said with a worried tone. Lizbeth was going to have her own complications from this point forward, and she was sure Cecily would be pissed. Maybe their host would be patient with them but Kathryn had already pushed their luck a bit the night before.

Thankfully, V was here to help. Coming in face red from the cold she was prepared to help Kosara cover up, and to explain to the tiefling woman more on the ways of decency. Especially infront of minors. Kosara seemed to be struggling with the concept overall. Thankfully Lizbeth was working her way out the room to work with the tea. "Lizbeth how about we uh... May I get some tea too please?" She would have to apologize to her later. Kathryn turned back to Kosara as she stepped out of the barrel of a bath and she just sighed. "Kosara, I gotta be blunt here, because by local customs, what you are doing is a serious offense. Some cultures do jail time or worse for it. The local culture, as well as the one I am from doesn't allow undressed adults and minors to interact with one another." Kathryn said doing her best to not beat around the bush. "I doubt you had nefarious intentions here, and this is a creative way to get a bath, but baths are generally considered something more private to not be shared with most people." There were exceptions, especially in areas where communal baths were a thing. But she didn't want to get into specifics or technicalities with Kosara. Her ignorance in the matter would already prove difficult.

"Back home people can be castrated if the lord decides any intentions were nefarious." Kathryn said with almost a pleading tone. There were other rumors too of those that civilization decided they wouldn't miss if they never showed up again. Deep mines which the workers never resurfaced from again. Fighting pits. Live practice subjects so those in medical could learn more on the human body. "You need to take this seriously, and you need to apologize to Lizbeth for being indecent. We can sort out a proper bath for ya later yeah? Somewhere easy enough to warm and somewhere more discrete." Kathryn said trying to warm up. She was a bit annoyed at Kosara, but she couldn't say she was mad. She was upset that the situation happened, worried how Lizbeth was taking things, concerned about what may happen to Kosara after the fact, and annoyed her friend kept trying to defend her actions despite the concerns brought up by the party members. Cultural differences or not, Kathryn needed Kosara to understand how close to things being a disaster they were, if they were not already past that threshold. "Get dressed. I will clarify anything you need clarifying later when we can talk in private yeah?" Kathryn said sympathetically. She was sure if Avonshire's social norms were much more different than Arcanaple's social norms, she would struggle to fit in as well. She couldn't imagine what Kosara was going through in a world so different than her own. Then again, she seemed rather care free about the whole thing.

Kathryn let out defeated sigh. Kosara would either get it, or she wouldn't. Maybe at least understand she had more to learn, and needed to talk about things and learn more. Kathryn would then turn and head back into the main dinning room where Lizbeth was working on tea, and Blackberry was now stepping into the doorway. "Morning dude." Kathryn said to blackberry in a half defeated tone, but doing a brief stretch and trying to brighten her own mood. "Let's stay in here a moment while they get things sorted in the kitchen yeah?" Kathryn said with a forced smile on her face. Between Kathryn's own problems last night and the mess of this morning, things were a cluster fuck.

Kathryn found out she was still rather jumpy as the figure stepped into the doorway. She got herself into a fighting pose one fist forward, leaning forward like she was ready to tackle, and one hand on a dagger pulled from her ankle sheath. Should the attacker get any wise ideas, she figured she could do a short forceful toss, and tackle the would be attacker out into the court yard past the barrels, and fight them where she would have the advantage. Also buying time for everyone else to get involved as needed. She realized though, she overreacted to what were essentially a cleaning crew. Popping the dagger back into it's sheath just as quickly as she pulled it out, she stood up strait with a dorky smile on her face. "No no no not interrupting anything at all just uh... Long morning is all." Kathryn said unsure how to approach things. "Upstairs may be better... we still have someone getting out of their bath in the kitchen here so they may be a minute." Kathryn said awkwardly unsure what else to say. Kathryn also remembered she left her dress out on her bed... she debated putting that away, but also wasn't really sure where away was for it yet... she figured leaving it was probably best.

Any color which tinged Victoria's cheeks took its icy leave. The vast majority of her instincts bade her to remove herself from this situation and see to her own interests. But this incident was embarrassing at best for Lizbeth, and the Bard had grown rather fond of her. Add to this that she was one of their hosts for the winter, or at least the niece of their host, and Victoria had no desire to lose their spot for the winter. Given a little thought, were they to be disinvited from the Vineyard, she might yet be able to go with her original plan to make it to the coast before the snows come, and acquire passage on a ship bound for her home to the north. Could she have made it in time, before the roads became perilous? Maybe. Quite possibly, in fact. Especially now that she had access to a stunningly fast Phantasmal Steed that responded to her better than any real horse might. But this didn't account for her clothes or tools, nor her errand cart, equipment, and her Morty. And of course, as ran through her thoughts just a moment before, she had grown rather fond of Lizbeth L'Rose on a personal level. She seemed like a good kid with a ton of potential, a little of which she had already glimpsed. Victoria made her decision.

Folding her cloak back over one arm, Victoria wordlessly removed herself from the kitchen and followed Lizbeth out to the Taproom. There was a general lack of interest in the servants moving to clean the kitchen, as her intentions were focused on the young lady in front of her. She draped her garment over the back of the chair nearest to her belongings on the table and kept a respectful distance, keeping herself to inquisitive yet casual tones as she spoke, first to their Dragonborn companion to offer a quick, "Oh, good morning, Baronfjord. I didn't hear you enter." Her attention then went back to Lizbeth. "She is a creature of the desert sands, as I am one of more temperate, cosmopolitan proclivities. As you are of these rolling hills and fantastic, fertile soils. The songs of our lives all harmonize with the variety of our origins and the events which bring us to this moment. Ever changing moving forward; penned indelibly looking back. What is normal and expected of one song is unseemly, even grotesque to the ears of another listener. And if we're speaking confidentially, Miss L'Rose," She bent down just a little and dropped her voice slightly to give the impression of privacy, "Of the two, I believe you are the more responsible." She let it the sentence hover, smiling at the girl preparing tea and toast. Standing back to full height and pitching her voice at normal levels, she concluded her thought with, "The variety and beauty of these songs, taken objectively, are amazing to behold. But if you find yourself uncomfortable like this again, do come to one of us about it, and it shall be handled. Okay, Lizbeth?" Victoria held her eyes with the steady surety of a promise.

Then she suddenly brightened. Her hand trailed over her new Ritual book; a lovingly crafted, if a bit macabre piece of work. "Oh, Lizbeth?" Victoria said playfully. Her smile broadened with potential mischief. "How about, while the tea steeps, I show you an interesting piece of magic? I could make someone - someone in this building, I don't know... die. Then bring them back in a few minutes. Would that make you feel better?" She them whispered, "It would make me feel better."

Intrigued, Lizbeth nodded her head. This decision might have gone either way, but something this off-the-wall piqued her curiosity enough to agree.

Victoria smiled in her small victory. She really wanted to test this spell out and now she had an excuse. Gingerly tiptoeing to the kitchen door, she cracked it open slightly and asked aloud, "Lady Kathryn? Kat dearest, our friend is feeling a little down. Would you mind, if you please, helping me demonstrate an arcane ritual? I need a willing vi- recipient of the energies. You shan't even feel a single pang of discomfort. Of that, I am dead certain. Come, let us give Lizbeth a little show." Big smiles, bright eyes, graceful movements, and flowing optimism took over Victoria as she mentally poured over what may come next.

"Ah! Good morning Young Lizbeth.” BlackBerry chirped back “I trust you slept well then to be up at such an hour as I did hear a small crash. But it appears that no harm was done?”

He followed her, after she came from around the counter, towards the hearth with her tray filled with various breakfast stuffs. Bread, butter, and various spread jostle for room around the teapot and mugs that rattled when the tray was put down on the table. He let out an appreciative ‘ooh’ and smacked his lips. Another one of natures calls sounded from his stomach.

“A veritable feast for the eyes! And soon for the body as well. You do far too much much Young Lizbeth, I insist on doing the washing up afterwards. And I will not hear a word otherwise.”

Lady Kathryns unmistakable voice then began to drift over from beyond the not-quite-closed kitchen door sounding strained, almost pleading, to whomever she was talking to. While Blackberry couldn’t hear the all of what was being said he did overhear a few choice words like ‘jail’, ‘nefarious’, ‘not be shared’, and ‘castration’. He kept tilting his head slightly with each barely heard snippet, and he frowned felling utterly confused about the whole thing he was only overhearing half of. BlackBerry took a few steps trying to catch a glimpse through the gap of kitchen door but only a thin slice of the kitchen hearth visible to him.

“Well, it certainly sounds as if something interesting is happening.” He addressed Lizbeth as he returned to stand near the Hearth. “Should I even ask?”

BlackBerry could only assume that Young Lizbeth had decided to try and finish her cooking out here to escape whatever strange event was taking place in the Kitchen. He let her continue in peace and soon the smell of cooked breakfast began to fill the room, making his stomach rumble with anticipation.

Standing beside the hearth, his attention was then quickly taken by the Raven sitting atop the mantel. Its feet clacked quietly against the stone mantel as it shuffled under BlackBerry’s roving eyes. He was somewhat taken by the birds feathers which at first glance where a simple black where actually iridescent in shades of deep purple and rich cobalt.

“Hello there handsome fellow. You are Victoria's little bird, are you not?” Tentatively, he reached out his hand to the bird roughly the size of his head. “Yes, I thought I recognised you.”

At that moment, Lady Kathryn and Victoria came traipsing into the taproom both. His chipper morning greeting once again died in his throat when he caught sight of them both wearing long, drawn faces. Lady Kathryn then advised the just arrived cleaners to begin their work upstairs.

“Out of their bath?” BlackBerry repeated. He looked at Victoria, then Lady kathryn and then back to the former as she gave an explanation of sorts to Young Lizbeth decreeing the beauty of different songs. His eyes widened in abject horror while his facial scales did an impressive job of becoming several shades lighter. “Say it not so.”

Hearing Victorias offer to show Young Lizbeth a fun, family friendly trick of temporarily killing someone, his head snapped towards Victoria so quickly it damn near broke the sound barrier. For another rare, but becoming regular, moment Blackberry stood still in sheer flabbergasted astonishment watching Victoria then call Lady Kathryn over.

“N-n-n-now hang on, hang on just a moment.” He just about managed to pick his jaw off the floor. “Victoria. Would, would you mind explaining a bit further this uh…’interesting’ bit of magic? It is safe, yes? After all, Lady Kathryn's behaviour last night doesn't deserve such a punishment as death.” Forcing a laugh he endeavoured to convince himself this was a joke on Victoria's part. “Perhaps an animal would do just as well for the trick such as uh…rabbit or duck?”

The following moment came a clarity that surely Victoria wouldn’t kill someone, least of all one of the group, right in front of their hosts child. Especially after the last two incidents that had taken place this would easily, simply be, an illusion the talented bard with a penchant for necromancy would cast to entertain Young Lizbeth. Lady Kathryn would not be killed, she would not die and then come back to life. BlackBerry chose to ignore the part of him mind reminding him there was an undead swine standing by the wall.

In the wake of all this happening his original reason for coming downstairs had been momentarily forgotten.

As Kosara was left on her own in the kitchen, wrapped in her blanket by the fireplace, she just stared at the fire in confusion while she was drying up her hair and wiping herself dry around the fire. Everybody was so weird around here… She could sort of understand why being naked around a person of the opposite gender would be considered an issue. It was kind of like that back home too… unless it was her sisters with clients she supposed, but here everybody in the kitchen were female.” These lands are just so odd...” She mumbled as she concluded her body was dry enough and began dressing up, though her hair was still quite wet. She sighed, long white hair laying on her back, giving her a cool feeling because it had yet to dry. She was going to have to braid it again, but at least it was clean... for the most part.

Now dressed up, she picked up her bag, put the soap kit away and after making sure everything was alright in the room as in it wasn’t wet or anything, she folded her blanket in half a few times, she was going to place it near the fire place in thee main room to dry up before they leave. Now with everything prepared she walked out of the kitchen and headed right for where Lizbeth was, looking at the new people in the room too.

“Lizbeth, I would like to apologize.” She said in earnest if a bit confused voice. Yes she was apologizing properly and she meant it. Didn’t mean she fully understood the reasoning, but Kosara could understand when she did something wrong even if she had no idea why it was so.” I shouldn’t have acted like that without knowing if it was normal here. Back home it wasn’t unusual, but I shouldn’t have just assumed the same here. I promise it won’t repeat and I will clear the barrel and take out the water in a bit.” Kosara finished her apology with a small hopeful smile.” Still friends? Also can I have a cup of tea too, please?” If nothing else Kosara was in the end of the day still Kosara, so she was going to be bright, friendly and hopeful.

Kathryn wondered if she was perhaps too harsh on Kosara. A small part of her wondered if she wasn't harsh enough. Even if Lizbeth forgave Kosara the woman was likely down shit creek without a paddle. Kathryn didn't want to see her friend get in trouble, but she also knew Lizbeth was now in a rough spot on her own. Kathryn herself had slipped up some the night before, and that already pushed the party's good standing with the L'Rose family. This... would create complications. But thankfully to Kathryn's relief, even though Kosara wasn't totally sure why what she did wasn't favorable, she seemed to understand that what she did was upsetting to Lizbeth, and far from acceptable here in Avonshire. She showed remorse for her actions, and regret for upsetting Lizbeth. Kathryn wanted to thank Kosara for owning up to the situation despite not fully grasping how it effected things. But she couldn't think of what to speak. She still didn't know how Lizbeth was going to be effected by the whole thing. If Kosara looked Kathryn's direction she would give the smaller woman a nod of approval, and later when they had the chance Kathryn would talk to Kosara in better details about... she guessed whatever she needed to hear.

Kathryn wasn't in a trance per say, but she was stressed. And focused on keeping that stress manageable. She had already emptied her waterskin so didn't have that to drink anymore. So nothing to even refresh herself. Physically she still ached. Nothing she couldn't tolerate, but she was sore, tired, hungry as hell, and worried how the whole situation would blow up around Kosara. She honestly wondered if this would force them all to find new lodgings for the winter, something that Kathryn wasn't really prepared for. But something if she had too she could make due one way or another. Caravan work paid decent? Supplementing a town guard would give her housing for the winter? Being a sell sword guard for a local guild who wanted extra muscle could also help her hold up through the winter. No... she wouldn't think down that road now. She had some plans drawn up when she was in her drunken stupor after Ser Lucas passed. She would figure it out. She wondered how shook up Lizbeth was, and if there was anything she could do to help the young bean without overwhelming her, or upsetting her more. She had no idea thinking through it. Kathryn took a great sword and hacked the shit out of things when she was upset, but her family sword was a little too big for Lizbeth to use... And Lizbeth wasn't a member of Kathryn's family nor household. By law and tradition she wasn't really supposed to use the sword except in extreme situations. She supposed she could let Lizbeth swing about the warhammer, a set of swords, or axe throwing. Kicking ass there always felt good to Kathryn! Though maybe knife throwing was more suited to Lizbeth's abilities... she would have to find out.

Kathryn found herself finally getting the opportunity to help the small bean. When her other small bean of a friend Victoria stepped over and offered her a chance to make Lizbeth feel better. How could Kathryn refuse? Kathryn would be lying if she said she didn't also want to see some of the magic play out and to see what it could do. There was a small horn going off in the back of her head. The line of thought that picked up on the more subtle language that V used. The mistrusting line of thought that became weary when something wasn't right. The line of thought that told her to be careful who you trust. But... The part of her that wanted to please, that wanted to behave and be a good girl, the part of her that wanted everyone else to feel a little bit better. The part of her that wanted to please everyone slowly buried that worry. The previous anxiety was still there, and was still fueled by that line of thought warning her that this may not be a good idea.

It had just the briefest of chances to take the front of Kathryn's focus as BB gave an argument against the use of said magic. That instinct of self preservation soon became to burn like a bonfire trying to blast its way through an ice burg. Still sealed, but making progress. Above it, a winter storm of extreme proportions trying to bury the flame before it could break free. Her need to have the approval of others burying her concern for her own safety. "Blackberry, I'm sure it's fine." Kathryn said with a warm smile. Be it pleading ignorance, or total trust in V Kathryn probably couldn't answer one way or another. She's pretty sure V wouldn't do anything too harsh in front of Lizbeth. And plus! Kathryn and V were friends! They were an adventuring party! The best of allies! There's no way V would do anything to actually harm Kathryn. "It's just some fun harmless magic, plus, I have a pretty high pain threshold. Once had an orc stand on my chest after he knocked me over. I think I can handle whatever V has in mind." Kathryn said confidently.

Her confidence wasn't totally pure though. Before she went off to join V and Lizbeth for this magic trick, she grabbed an unopened bottle of wine from behind the bar, ripped off the cork with her bare hand, took a few long swigs before setting the bottle down on a nearby table. She wasn't going to get hammered, but she needed a refresher, she needed to dull her fears a little bit, and drinking helped her deal with her own stress. She also became considerably more confident when she had booze in her system. "Alrighty V, what do you have in mind?" Kathryn said in an excited and giddy tone. Ready for whatever the small elf woman had in store for the tall warrior.