Kathryn was glad to hear that a battle didn't seem to break out between V and Kosara. Though it would have been an amusing sight to watch, she didn't want to watch two of her companions unleash hell and fury on one another. Especially over herself. Kathryn couldn't be sure if Kosara was joking or just speaking the potential worst case scenario rather casually. But as it didn't really come to blows, she wasn't going to worry herself too badly on that. But it also appeared that Victoria was the one who had slapped her while she was out. "Tactile test huh?" Kathryn asked in a half amused manner. "Fair enough..." Kathryn spoke with some hesitation. Then, a grin that could be taken as a joke to some, or something a little more against the tone of shenanigans broke out on Kathryn's face. "Speaking of tests. You're probably the closest here to Lizbeth's size, you should join us for sword practice so she can see how to go toe to toe with someone bigger than her. I can teach her a lot, but how she will learn to fight, will be far different than how I tend to fight." Kathryn took a sip of her ale and pondered her words. She wanted to make room to joke and tease Victoria without out right revenge striking the woman. Kathryn held no ill intent towards the small woman, and simply wanted to joke about with her. "Nothing intense obviously. But she should see how a fight of two people in different size groups fight. It'll be good for her to know!" Kathryn said giddy. And yes, she just wanted a good sparing match. But BB would probably be far better at doing such a thing than Victoria was. And there was some legitimate points there too. Kathryn was bigger than most of her opponents, and that was one of her greatest strengths. But people may try to exploit it. As for how V fit into things, if V ever found herself in hand to hand combat, she would likely fight people a lot bigger than her. Which for now, was Lizbeth. Though Lizbeth may grow up some more...

Kosara offering to help setup breakfast, even making some flat breads, Kathryn couldn't help but make a little joke of the matter. "Gasp! Kosara! You, working with bread!" Kathryn jested towards her friend with a soft chuckle and a warm smile. "Jokes aside, it is kind of funny then how we haven't met before. Ser Lucas and I stopped in nearly every Caravan stop and tavern between here and Arcanaple. Wouldn't that have been a fun coincidence?" Kathryn amused to Kosara. The world was big, and as a whole Kathryn could see how despite the number of places Kathryn and Ser Lucas had to call home for a time how she could have missed Kosara's home. Especially if it was in any other direction. Apart of her did wonder if the desert Kosara was from was the same one her uncle used to talk about? She couldn't be sure, but apart of her didn't really want to know. If it was, her uncle didn't have a lot of nice things to say about the desert. He said the frontier's lands on the edges of the deserts were better, but the stories he told Kathryn growing up past the frontiers, they still scared Kathryn a bit. Even if Kosara and her people weren't the people that her uncle were pitted against, she heard the fighting got pretty brutal for everyone involved. Taking another sip of ale to let remove herself from that train of thought, she moved on to other matters.

Kathryn listened as Cecily spoke on about her struggles at the moment. So far, it seemed to be building up to a crazy winter for her. Her husbands father passing, that being Lizbeth's grandfather. Staff not showing up due to schedule conflicts or errors, and just a hectic time. She wished she knew how to help the poor woman, but her experience managing an estate was cut short years ago. Sure, maybe she could do better than your average commoner, but not by as much as you would expect a noble woman to do. To make matters worse, she found herself being a little short on the emotional side of things to provide much support there too. "Well, since we're here, if you do need assistance do let us know. We don't want to be leeches to your hospitality while you struggle this winter. If we can help all you have to do is ask!" Kathryn offered with the brightest cheer in her tone!

Kathryn looked down at the sweet innocent face Kosara put on when asking for a hug, much like the one she felt obligated to give Victoria. How was Kathryn supposed to refuse to hug Kosara after she willingly gave a hug to the small half elf woman who just killed and unkilled her? Kosara other than some issues with not understanding what a sandwich was, and some cultural issues that they were going to work on, had been nothing but kind to her! The hug for Victoria has been hard though. Hugs gave Kathryn anxiety. She had to worry what would happen if the person she trusted to get that close secrete vendetta against her? What if Kosara did have one and had been hiding it so well the last week? No no no no that was crazy paranoia talking. She was over worrying herself! "Okay." She said a little meekly, but a smile on her face none the less. Kathryn then bent over a bit as if she was giving a bow to her tiefling friend. When in arms reach she hugged Kosara tightly, and then quickly let go taking her free hand and grabbing her mug of ale, downing it until it was empty to numb the fear. Her smile seemed much less forced now.

The mood of the half giant was warmed up watching Blackberry claim to Master Urmdrus that the barrels he brought seemed to be way too much for the party to produce. Thankfully, Master Urmdrus laughed first. Making it so Kathryn wouldn't seem like a child for laughing first and likely loudest of the group. As he left though Kathryn's professional posture began to fade. "hehehe" Kathryn let out in a giggle trying to get a word out before she struggled to speak. Her laughing seeming to take precedent over the words trying to come out of her mouth. "Hehe, those are..." She coughed trying to get a more words out through her chuckles. "Sorry I uh, left those there. I'll deal with them here." She let out once the laughing settled. She had no idea why Blackberry pointing out the barrels was so funny to her, yet here she was laughing her ass off at them! Maybe it was the implication that they were massive piss buckets, or maybe it was like a nervous twitch as Kathryn struggled with embarrassment of not dealing with those yet.

"I'm going to clean up my own work for a bit, and go for a short walk before breakfast."Kathryn spoke to Cecily mostly, but also to Kosara who was looking into plans for the morning. "Flat breads sound nice, I don't know a ton of what goes into them but if you can get that going while I put the barrels away you're also welcome to join me for my walk before I go up to the house?" Kathryn offered to the small tiefling woman. "The offer is also out there for any of you as well." Kathryn spoke up to Victoria, Blackberry, Cecily, and Lizbeth. But she didn't want them to feel obligated too. Kathryn's casual morning walk was supposed to be a cool down workout before her day kicked off after such an extreme workout this morning. She did wonder where would be the best places to go for a walk while out here. But maybe that would be a good use of this walk, to learn more of the layout of the vineyard before breakfast!

BlackBerry stared down at Urmdrus felt the mans eyes bore into his own. The moment after his joke dragged on painfully. Between the group apparently not meeting the mans standards for amounts of piss, and BlackBerry’s joke it seemed to him that they were not making the best impression. BlackBerry’s grin twitched with uncertainty as the second continued to stretch and fill with dread. And then the moment snapped to the sounds of the dwarfs laughter. BlackBerry’s grin went from wavering in fear to splitting his face with relief, even a small chuckle of his own at the Dwarf’s appreciative bumps on his arm.

As the others began to sort themselves out, Victoria and Lizbeth making to follow after Madame L’Rose out of the taproom, BlackBerry thought over the exchange he had witness moments prior which he had caught the tail end of. For a moment a less than charitable side of him wondered if there was something else going on; he had caught Lizbeth Volunteering himself and the others to lend a hand earning her a sharp look from Madame L’Rose. A shamefully less than charitable side of his wondered if Madame L’Rose was hiding something from them but thinking it over again he didn’t think that was the case and was more likely just the stress of the last few days and week was getting to the poor woman.

“Thank you kindly Madame L’Rose. We shall see you shortly!” He bid Madame L’Rose, Lizbeth, and Victoria, an excited farewell and closed the door behind them.

In the following silence he turned to look at Lady Kathryn who had answered the mystery of the wine barrels outside. “May I ask as to why you had several barrels out in the courtyard this morning.” He then blinked and tilted his head to the side. “Where did you even find those barrels?”

To the offer of joining Lady Kathryn for a walk he raise his hand and shook his head. “Perhaps, Lady Kathryn, another time I shall join you. For now though, Kosara, if I may lend a hand in making ‘flatbread’ with you? Though I will admit I am not entirely sure what it is but I can hazard a guess.” His . But they did have a time limit “If they do not take too long to make or even need any particular ingredient?”

“It does seem that Madame L’Rose has a lot on her plate at the moment. I am sure she will appreciate us making a meal or bringing some food with us.” His voice took on a seldom heard sombre tone which filled the quiet left in their visitors wake.“I think I shall reiterate my offer of a helping hand to her over breakfast whilst we are here, or until she is able to sort out her troubles.”

“Even poor Lizbeth seems left somewhat paranoid now. I would wager a hefty penny some of her eagerness to train comes from that.” The look of worry returned to his face and his gaze seemed to settle somewhere in the middle distance. “But still…I wonder…perhaps something else is happening.”

Weather: Still cold. With the raising of the sun, things have ticked up a few degrees from nighttime, but overall still a brisk morning. A touch of wind gusts every so often, letting you know that chilly air is still inbound.

Time: Still morning, naught but a few scant minutes from when we checked in last.

Ambience: Mostly clear skies greet you this morning, except for a puffy, light grey patch still in the distance. Judging from the wind direction, that patch promises to arrive with greater abundance eventually. For now, you have the day; and what a crisp, enchanting day it is. The sun now giving glorious illumination to all but the lowest hollows of the Rose River Vineyard. From the high position of the Coach House exterior, one has an excellent, nigh panoramic view of the immediate vineyard.

The windows of the Estate House stood uncovered by shutter and curtain, both, simultaneously allowing the morning sun's rays to brighten the rooms within and reflecting enough radiance to prevent one at a distance from peering within. Around the estate House and the main buildings thereabouts, the rise of the land obscured a good portion of the river as it traveled southward. Nevertheless, farther down one could pick out faraway figures dropping fishing lines into its steady waters. Locals, most likely, or employees of the vineyard with the morning off. Those beginning their day's labors were clearly visible walking along the rows nearest to the buildings, looking over the clean, light green fruits which bobbed lightly in the breeze, many of which had begun to droop and turn the slightest colors of tan. Beneath their wide brimmed hats, people made their notations with satisfactory expressions and moved along their rows.

The Taproom saw its doors open and close a couple more times in the interim, leaving the differing conditions of light and temperature to war with one another. Almost instantly, the hearthy lights of the fires take over from the pale morning light outside, and in short order the cold is banished, leaving those who wish to stay inside for a time longer in relative comfort.




The domestic worker made good on his promise to exit the premises with an assertive gait, trying hard not to look like he was nervously fleeing the situation he was in, though he almost assuredly was. He caught up to his wife who, luckily, never made it farther than the bottom of the hill, almost. It was not certain what was discussed in this moment, but in three minutes or so the near to paranoid lady was sent on her way back home while her husband returned to the Coach House to cover her part of the tasks. To his credit, he was holding himself together fairly well, considering that he was a touch nervous being around real life adventurers who had magics beyond his reckoning a their disposal, else were larger and stronger than himself by orders of magnitude. "If it's all the same to you, I'll keep myself away from your personal effects and just change the bedding out upstairs, empty some things, you know... And just get to the rest when you make your ways about today, again, if you please, if this suits your plans." He suspiciously eyed the entire, preserved pig wrapped in burlap, somehow standing up by itself near the wall. Then he got to his business.

Those inside the Taproom interested in the contents of the kitchen would find a fully stocked pantry, larder, and dry storage. The cellar attached held all manner of goodies, absolutely complete with any kitchen staple that the region had to offer. Even a few preserved items that weren't native to Avonshire made it into storage. Those interested in something as simple as flatbread or the makings of a good sandwich will find the contents significantly more than acceptable. The stove is even still hot, the pans seasoned, and lighting just perfect to throw something together in short order. In the event of a messy cook, the domestic worker was still on premises and had to yet do an accounting of the supplies in these rooms. In short, one with the ability to cook may do so at their leisure.

A practiced gait saw Cecily stepping down the trail which led in the general direction of the Estate House. She occasionally glanced back to make sure she wasn't going too fast for those following her to keep up, knowing that her footfalls carried the steps of experience of one who had been here for some years, and others did not have such experience. Lizbeth kept up readily enough, keeping to her aunt's heels like a squire to a vineyard knight. When they reached the paved path which split the front end of the Vineyard with access, she began to give a very basic tour of things they were about to walk past in the distance. "These rows have stopped producing grapes. The rest have been harvested and processing now, but these..." She trailed for a moment, "The longer they stay on the vine, the more sweetness develops. When the first true frost of the season hits, they will be harvested still frozen if possible and immediately crushed into syrup. This makes a very sweet, strong wine, and it why it's called 'icewine' by most folk. That building there? That's guest or servant accommodations. It used to be a family cottage. Point of fact, I used to live there myself, until... Well, the Family L'Rose has suffered many losses in recent years. My own husband included."

She dotted her eyes with her shawl, cleared her throat, and moved along with conversation. "Up here at this roundabout we have stabling for personal and riding horses. The draft horses are kept elsewhere on the property, nearer to where the work is done, but they have a shared grazing area with lots of room to run. And here is the Estate House. You'll notice two gazebos out front; one of them is for gatherings and leisure, feel free to use it as you see fit. The farther one out is actually underground access. We produce and store most of our wine right here, underneath our home. There are some other cellars elsewhere on the vineyard, but this is the main one. There's enough wine down there to stain the river for days. Oh, let us take the long way around. Breakfast will be set up on the terrace, overlooking the water. Right this way, please."

Evenly lain stone surrounded the Estate House, turning into the occasional short few steps up or down to suit the lay of the land, while one great set of stairs made of the same stone as the walkways led up to the main doors of the structure. But Cecily did not use these, preferring to keep to the perimeter until they were all led to the back of the great house. The ground around them changed into a series of three-color mosaics, all as flat and even as the stone walkways, surrounding a vanity pool which stretched very nearly to the stone fencing along the edge of the terrace to the back of the house itself. A large, round table sat on the other side of this pool, presently tended to by two of the domestic staff, one Human and one Halfling, putting out cloths and placesettings for the upcoming meal. Great brass braziers, four of them, were placed strategically to allow easy access to the table while giving needed warmth from the hot coals inside. Next to one of the braziers was a small table holding a series of dishes, a basket of eggs, and a few sundry ingredients. This was arranged as if it was to be used for tableside cooking specifically. "Make yourself at home, please. I doubt that the scullery staff needs additional help, but one can always ask; they are at your disposal should you wish something, nevertheless."

Lizbeth dashed over to the side of the terrace, lifting herself up on the low fencing along the edge and looked out over the river. The terrace itself oversaw a respectable drop to the water below, and one could see a landing beach below. "The view is amazing here! Come take a look!" she insisted.

Elsewhere, was unloading the not remotely full buckets of other people's urine into a basin near some leatherworking equipment. He did not seem especially happy to be doing so, but a deal was a deal, and he was coming out of this deal reasonably well. Even after the Half-Elf turned on her sylvan wiles and renegotiated. He picked up one especially useful-looking piece of Ankheg carapace, held it to his own chest for perspective, and made it ready to be worked upon. Very candidly, he made sure to add his own micturitions to the basin. If the "adventurers" couldn't pick up the slack, the hard-drinking Duergar would have to bring them up to the fill line himself. A craftsdwarf's job was never done, apparently.

The path up to the lookout point, as ran by Kathryn, took her on a slightly different route than the troupe moving toward the Estate House, proper. A more direct path saw more trees and less even ground, affording a less than admirable view of the surrounding lands. That is, until she actually got there. The even stone steps led to a large, flat area with wooded railing to help prevent accidental falls. But once up there, a wondrous sight unfolded before Kathryn. This was the highest point for a long way around. The river stretched for miles in either direction before being fully swallowed up by the rolling seas of grass, dotted with occasional copses of trees. One can even see evidence of Southmoor in the distance, easily reachable by the road (which is good, considering that the population there work for the vineyard seasonally, as Cecily explained the previous day). Several outbuildings were visible from here that simply weren't from the Coach House due to the constraints of vision offered by the hilly countryside, including several worksheds dotting the fields of neat, slightly curved rows of grapevines that seemed to go on for an impressive distance. In addition, due to Kathryn's history with forge work, she could recognize a building not far at all from the Coach House that had all the earmarks of a blacksmith's shop and personal dwelling. The scope of how much this piece of land produced was made very apparent by the height and view. While the great expanse of vines and vine accessories stretched indeterminably in every direction, it did seem to stop short (comparatively) a ways to the south, as a dotted line of scrub and uncultivated trees marked a boundary to a place of lower elevation that, in the nature of moors, vaguely resembled a wetland.

Also from this vantage, Kathryn cold see a clearly marked path that led directly to the stone terrace at the back of the Estate House, where Lizbeth, Cecily, and Victoria were ambling about between the river and the vanity pool in the shade provided by the large house itself.

“Great! I know Grandpa would like you!” Kosara cheefully agreed with V’s statement. Did the tiefling detect the sarcasm? Not really, the pale tiefling did no do sarcasm well, part of her issues and general personality. Not that she couldn’t understand negativity, shes just didn’t understand the use of sarcasm well, she was getting better… maybe. She did believe that her Grandpa and V would get famously well! Like house and fire! That was a saying about things getting along well, right? She could swear she has had cases of hearing it somewhere or other in the past.

“Well of course. Flat bread is very popular back home and it makes good foodstuffs. You can even make what’s probably a sandwich with it, you just take the flatbread, wrap it around the meat and other stuff and presto tasty foodstuffs.” Kosara replied with a happy voice to Kathryn mock surprise, before she raised an eyebrow at Kathryn’s statement.” Well to be fair, I’m fairly certain the desert I grew up in is not located between here and your homeland… unless your home is on the other side of the desert… which I got the impression it’s not?” She offered the reason they hadn’t met in the past. Kosara herself was rather sure if they did meet in the times past, she would have remembered it.

Finally there was a tight hug!” YAY HUGS!” Kosara exclaimed and wrapped her own lithe, but somewhat toned arms around the bigger woman in return of the hug. She loved hugs, hugs were the best! Granted they were better without metals and armors on, but hugs still were the greatest even with those in the way. It was probably the best hug she’s had with another humanoid and mostly because Kathryn was so much bigger than her and the tiefling didn’t have to keep her head at an odd angle as to not poke the other woman with her side horns if they were at same height. In the end she felt a bit sad of ending the hug, but all good hugs had to end eventually. Only so they can start anew at some time in the future of course.

“Alright, have a good walk, Kathryn!” Kosara send off her friend with a huge happy grin and wave of her arms. All was good in the world as she turned to Berry.” I mean yes, something is certainly going on around here that we aren’t aware of. I still stand by my opinion that something spooked that Ankheg from making a mess of the cart yesterday, so take that as a think to think about.” The tiefling agreed with the one armed dragonborn. She even nodded in theatrically overdramatic fashion. A default state for Kosara though, dramatic about her antics.” Well, you can help with preparing the dough! Let’s go! TO THE KITCHEN!” With the grand proclamation in place, the tiefling skipped into the kitchen once more, grabbing her heavy bag. It had gotten quite a bit heavier and almost bursting at the edges nowdays. Maybe she should invest in a new travel bag? Or maybe… she should get two of em! One for each side!

“Alright… flour’s there… I got the needed spices more or less.” She began and pointed out where there was flour and pulled her own set of spices she had procured from her bag. She also pulled out a skillet that was quite shallow, tossing it on the fire to heat up while adding a little bit of oil to it to heat up while they were preparing the dough. Kosara mixed water, flour, salt and a bit of oil. When the mixture was done, she handed it over to Berry.” Now knead and mix it good for a few minutes! These are going to be the best flatbreads!” She exclaimed and mixed another batch in the meantime so they had enough for everybody. She also wondered if there was enough time left if she could hurriedly cook/roast some small bits of the ankheg meat to see how they fare. Like a handful of diced into cube meat quickly roasted/fried in the skillet and it's oil when the flatbreads were done. Now wasn't that an idea!

The bracing air of the morning was felt with appreciable notice by Victoria as she kept her cloak about her. It took a few moments for her to acclimate to the colder air of the moors, even in part, as compared to the warm and comfortable interior of the Coach House. By the time they all got down to the main pathway - Cecily, Lizbeth, and herself - she felt more at ease. Enough, anyway, to allow her cloak to drape about herself without the desire to hold it closed. When Cecily began to speak about the lands around them, Victoria actually began to cheerfully ignore all but the gusts of wind, insisting upon reminding her that the start of winter was upon them.

The idea that Cecily didn't always live in the big house hadn't really occurred Victoria. It made sense, though. This was a rambling estate with lots of room to spread out, and she was more accustomed to the closer living of more populous cities. It did make her wonder how many people usually lived in the grand residence at by the river, and whatever else they might do with the space inside. "This is quite a lovely piece of land you have here. Like a shard of the Twin Paradises. I should love to experience as much of it as I can while I am welcomed here."

The gazebo nearest to the house piqued Victoria's interest. It was large, almost large enough to stage a one-act play in. Certainly a superior spot to play music or practice dancing. A similarly worthwhile spot was nearby to the gazebo as well, paved and mostly cordoned off by stone markers, but without a pavilion to keep inclement weather off of one's brow. This was an absolutely beautiful, if a bit rustic, place to center herself and assimilate the new abilities into her proper repertoire. In fact, this vineyard getaway seemed like the perfect place to delve into more new things that she might find complementary to her already varied skill set. And of course, the wine. It was a factor that couldn't be wholly ignored.

Along their way back to the terrace, Victoria raised a question that might have appeared a little out of place. "Madame L'Rose, if I may hazard an inquiry? Is there a practitioner of medicine operating nearby? To clarify, one who uses physical medicine as opposed to magic - a healer, or anatomist. A doctor of medicine, perhaps, if I might count myself as very lucky?" She stopped short before saying something to the effect of "in this rural locale." While accurate, it might not have been the most polite thing ever to say. "I've no need of one for myself, but I do like to be useful and learn new things." She quickly added, "While I've the time to, of course."

The continued walk to the breakfast area, so thoughtfully set up but not quite ready to receive guests, found Victoria keeping quiet. The view was amazing, as was the mosaic stonework of the area back here. She most assuredly joined Lizbeth at the side of the terrace overlooking the river, noting the drop down to the water. She noted the beach landing; another good spot to ply her talents and likely had some good acoustics to work with. "It is breathtaking, Lizbeth. I am quite jealous." This as only partly a polite statement. While not precisely her cup of tea, it was something that Victoria could see herself becoming accustomed to. This family was as wealthy as her own, obviously. Conceivably even moreso.

During her look at the far countryside from this scenic place, Victoria focused her senses to her raven, circling above. It was a different vantage from their present location, giving yet another brilliant perspective on the lands around them. During this temporary peek through the eyes of her Familiar, she caught sight of a familiar silhouette upon the nearby, simple lookout tower, prompting the Bard to break contact and call up to Kathryn, out for her constitutional. "Hey there!" She didn't quite go as loud as she possibly could, but did utilize her vocal training to project like a seasoned professional. A grand, welcoming wave followed.

Turning her attention back to Cecily, Victoria spoke, "If I speak out of turn, Madame, I apologize. That said, may I tentatively inquire - You mentioned that you had lost family, more than your husband and his father. Is it just you and Lizbeth in this place now? Or might we be graced with the meeting of more of your people before the winter is out?" Her voice was pleasant. Sweet. Honeyed, even. But her eyes were inquisitive and mind working with a sudden burst of inquisitive suspicion.

Spiraling down from above, the great, black corvid landed net to the vanity pool, absently pecking at something crawling nearby. Be it a spiritform made flesh, it was still a raven.

BlackBerry, ever one to lend a hand, set to his task as instructed by Kosara kneading the dough on the counter top (after being given a quick wipe down for cleanliness). It was surprising how the dough was just like…regular bread dough, he wasn’t entirely sure why he had expected otherwise but he had.

Copying the motions he had seen countless times from the cooks at home he set to work rolling and twisting the dough as best he could. The dough stretched away from him under the heel of his hand and then its top folded back over towards him again in a rhythmic motion. At first it was like a sticky paste latching onto every part it touched of his hands and the counter underneath, even the initial defensive scattering of flour had been no use!

But BlackBerry bravely persisted on in his charge.

“So, Kosara, just to clarify.” He half turned to face Kosara tending to the fire while he continued to wrestle the dough into submission. “If something did spook the Ankhegs earlier what do you suppose it might be? Perhaps the creature did not in fact hunt down the sheep but maybe even came across the animals after the fact? Someone mentioned they mostly ate dirt, did they not?”

The dough stuck to the counter top in thin sticky patches. Putting the main body of the dough to one side he tried to pull and pick at the patches but without much luck. He settled, with a grumble, for dusting his hand with flour and rubbing the patches up into little balls to join the rest of the dough. Give the counter another defensive sprinkling of flour he resumed his struggle.

“If I recall correctly Barbal and Tarace mentioned there had been some trouble for a while. But if it were anything other than Laurents sheep going missing they neglected to mention it. Perhaps we might ask some of the work hands about it all?”

He let the thought roll around in his skull as he rolled the dough across the counter top. It was a surprisingly soothing exercise; kneading the dough as if it were his worries and thoughts upon the counter top being worked from a sticky uncooperative mass, until its is smooth and soft to the touch. He was surprised to find his hands were surprisingly clean aside from a bit of residue. The dough came away from the counter top without even a trace left behind.

“I believe this is ready?” He ambled towards Kosara, and handing the dough over for her to do as she would. “Hopefully we shan’t be late to breakfast. I wonder if they’ll have pancakes, or a nice bit of porridge with baked apples.”

For the remainder of their time he was content to simply watch Kosara work her magic with a frying pan and demonstrate skills rivalling Victorias skill with her violin. But then, a thought, a question, popped into his head.

“Kosara, if it is not to forward of me to ask this…we have only known each other for a short time.” BlackBerry suddenly found a very interesting bit of the ceiling to look at whilst scratching his chin. His sense of decorum fought valiantly against his curiosity and general nosey-ness, but it was doomed from the start. “You seemed very attached to Lady Kathryn last night, and earlier you two had exchanged ‘friendship rings’. I do not intend to pry of course.” He lied. Lying through his teeth he finally looked at Kosara. “But…well…are you two?”

Kathryn pondered what Kosara said. And in all honesty she was probably right. Though Kathryn had seen a desert briefly she had never been inside of one for longer than a couple days. Chances of it being the same desert were astronomically small. "I know there is a desert not too far from Arcanaple. But I don't remember the name of it for the life of me." That honestly surprised her with how much her uncle talked about it. He had called it the last campaign to secure the frontiers. Where he and several other nobleman led a series of small hosts into the dunes to fight some king in the sands in retaliation for his raid into the frontier lands. He said though they were successful it was a costly victory. Several of the smaller groups hadn't even been able to make it to siege the settlement the king called home. Some from dehydration, getting lost, or attacked by raiders, desert beasts, and small war bands sent to slow them down. Others had taken such a beating when first entering the desert that they had to turn back. May died in the siege itself to many of the same fates. "I don't think it is the same desert. I'd imagine if it was we would both know of each other's people a little better." Kathryn also didn't like the idea that their people could have been at ends with one another. Especially in such a brutal conflict. Then came the hug.

So this was it. She was the giver of hugs. Distributor of snuggles. The most arm wrapping drama of the century. The embracer of embraces. The huggiest huggable knight this side of Avonshire. And Kosara was all in on it. Kathryn tensed at first, uneasy at first but soon relaxing a little. she properly returned the hug soon after rather than just awkwardly wrapping her arms around Kosara. And she had to admit, it was nice to hug again. It still gave her anxiety, but not as much as she thought she would struggle with. It felt real though. The problem with that is she had no idea how to end a real hug. With V it was easier because it seemed the smaller woman was offering the hug for Kat's benefit to help make up for the fear she caused when... well killing her. And now? This felt like something for both of them in a way. How did people end real hugs?! she briefly remembered years ago asking this woman Ser Lucas had brought back with him how to ask people out, and in the end how to kiss them. Around the time she was 18 she had developed a crush on a knight from one of the local houses. Hugs however were not one of the things she prepared for. They seemed easy?! To be fair she thought asking the knight would have fared better too. In the moment she panicked and said something to the tune of "Can I have your babies!" She ended up blurting out before even introducing herself. She and Ser Lucas left town rather quickly after that. Catalina wishing Kathryn the best of luck on her future flirting attempts. Nothing quite as embarrassing happening this time though as Kosara let go. So... it was that easy. "I'll have a good walk yeah. "

Kathryn gave a light chuckle when Blackberry asked her about the barrels outside. Setting down her empty mug of ale she began to step towards the door. "They were apart of my workout routine. It's really hard to find proper and sufficient weights to work out with once you get beyond the strength of your average peers. So you gotta improvise sometimes." She pointed out towards the barrels with her thumbs. "A good march on the road there with both barrels in full kit? Now that's a workout." She said proudly. She didn't have confidence in herself in a lot of respects. But she was rather proud with how strong she was. Moving those barrels was no joke. Moving two at once? That was a challenge and a half even for her. "I wish I had timed it or measured the distance better. But today was more of a proof of concept to see how far I could push myself and still keep going afterwards. I'm thinking I did pretty good this morning." She straitened up with her pride and accomplishment. Doing so with enough force to cause an audible thud as she hit her head with the angled beam assisting the ceiling, immediately bending back down holding her head like she wanted to curse the maker of the beam themselves. Quickly though she took a breath, calmed down, and kept her head low. As if the gods themselves were humbling her for being too prideful. Or it could just be back luck being just a couple inches under seven foot and standing in one of the few areas of the room where that would be a problem. Doors she could handle (Mostly), but it always seemed to be ceiling beams that caught her off guard. "I'm going to go put these back now... I'll see you at breakfast." She said in a much more humbled tone.

Kathryn quickly put the barrels away in the storage building on the couch house lot, only to remember there was in fact a tasty treat waiting for her in the form of Morty bits. Grabbing a pouch from the same storage building she ran back in shoving her hand into the bag of Morty a few times to create her own bag of Morty. “Sorry, now I’ll see you both at breakfast…” she said before scampering off. And then began her cool down run for the morning. Nothing like a good easy cardio to wrap up an intense workout. The pass she found wasn't particularly easy to travel, but far from a challenge. She couldn't safely go a full sprint but she could keep a good pace as she got to enjoy nature for a bit, enjoy the peace of things, and overall just relax. The watch tower was something to be amazed by. A tall beauty that could only be described as... wonderful. Climbing to the top as fast as she could, she got a view that she couldn't even imagine describing to the others. A view that had to be seen not heard or read about. Kathryn was honestly surprised just how much land seemed to be under the influence and ownership of the L'Rose family. "Oh my gods..." This was the sort of place to live. A high up stone tower with a view unmatched by anything. Not that she could ever afford such a tower. But she wanted to come out here as often as possible while she was here.

Taking in the view she wished she herself could fly, and see the world as birds do. She wondered if this is what V experienced with her new creature? She would have to ask the small woman. And if so… could she share that experience with Kathryn? She would have to ask. In the meantime, this was a view she would never get tired of. She made a mental note to return here as often as possible! But now she was risking being late for breakfast. Taking her pack she climbed back down the tower, a cheerful smile across her face as she explored the greenery around the vineyard and jogged back towards the main house via a path she had spotted while on top of the tower. Kathryn making good speed, she soon caught up with Victoria, Lizbeth, and Cecily. "Hey everyone!" she called out as she approached. "Sorry for being tardy. I need to get back into shape if I want any hope of... well a lot of things." She gave an awkward chuckle, an arm wrapped around the back of her head as she struggled to think of the words. "So, what did I miss?" She ten turned out to see the view of the lands from the terrace. "Wow... the view is amazing from here too." Kathryn mused looking off into the distance.

Weather: One experiences a cool morning under clear skies. While the ambient temperature has increased a little bit, the wind still bites with a promise of weather to come. The distinction between the two is becoming more apparent at the morning progresses.

Time: Still early. It is morning, approximately a half hour from the last time we checked in.

Ambience: One's breath can be seen in smallish wisps in the cold morning air. This has lessened little by little as the growing (relative) warmth of the sun, marking it as an event soon to expire. The clouds in the distance seem to have approached a little bit in the last half hour, an expected thing considering the prevailing direction of the wind. The vineyard and moors about it are grand and bright, demonstrating the industry of agriculture for which Avonshire is known.

Movement around the Estate House and immediate rows of vines has become more noticeable, as additional employees of the vineyard have emerged to start their day. The ripples of wind across vegetation serve to better illustrate the ocean-like appearance of rolling hills which appear as silent, standing waves dotted with dwellings, gazebos, and stables making a metaphorical mimicry of ships in the near and far distance. A main footpath paved with grey flagstones and a vital, lifegiving river cut through this near idyllic scene, the latter seeing more use than the former as persons both Human and Halfling gather water, cast their fishing lines in, or walk along its banks - though not in great numbers. Almost as a portion of the day's distant ambience, one can barely make out one of the fishing folk utter, _{"G'mornin'! Nice day for fishin', ain't it? Huah huh!"}

The Taproom remained mostly as it was from prior, except that one could make out an occasional shuffling footstep from the floor above, likely from the man going about his business straightening things up, sweeping floors, and changing out bed linen. He kept as quiet as he might be except for what was necessary to do a proper job tidying up. Smells of rising dough compete with the glory of steam rising from freshly baked bread and savory notes of quickly sauteed bits of meat.




The Estate House blocked the worst of the wind gusts from fluttering cloak, cape, and shawl. Coupled with the braziers (even the one set up as a tableside cooking station), the overall temperature was bearable, even for a late fall/early winter morning. The farther away one might travel from the set tables, the less influence either had on one's comfort; at the distance of the terrace's edge overlooking the river it was effectively nonexistent, the prevailing conditions of the weather reasserting hold fully. Lizbeth didn't seem to mind, her heart full of unvoiced joy at their guests and the novelty of outdoor breakfast with a few of her favorites being delivered. Cecily chose to keep nearer to the warmth, as her own levels of excitement were quite depleted by the events of Harvestide. While she did not wish to move too far away from the braziers, she put a little extra volume to her voice to respond to Victoria's questions. "Yes. Yes there is one in Southmoor, Madame Annick Floquet, but..." There was a sharp quality to her voice, as if sudden reluctance to elaborate had to be pushed through. "A lady who was a midwife, before the last war. She got conscripted as an army medician. She came back a different person, as what happens in war sometimes, I hear. I knew her when I was but a girl. She lives just outside of Southmoor, near to a large copse of trees. Madame Floquet, hmm... She does not generally give of herself unless you have something she wants in trade, save for her oath to act as Apothecary and Healer. I hope this helps."

The next question as posed to Cecily was actually answered by Lizbeth. Her general manner was still upbeat, even if her words issued forth in more of a monotone. "We lost my mommy and daddy when I was younger. It was a wasting disease of some kind. I had it, too, but I lived. Aunt CeeCee came here to live with us and take care of me, after that. But then Uncle Hugo passed..." She looked at Cecily like she had crossed a line of some kind, her lightly shocked voice issuing an apology. "Oh, I'm sorry! I... That wasn't my place to say."

"It's all right. It will always hurt a little, and I have to get used to it." Turning to Victoria, she continued the thought as Lizbeth had left it, "It was a rough few years there, to be certain. Especially for Arnaud, my father-in-law and Lizbeth's grandfather. He kept almost fully to himself, after lost both of his sons. I was going to give him another grandchild, but... but it didn't come to term. Suddenly, too. Arnaud even seemed angry about it. He was so looking forward to the birth. And then he withdrew from everyone again. Leaving the house for days at a time sometimes. Most of the time, we didn't know where he went. Sometimes, we would find him coming back home from the Coach House. Or he would lock himself in his study." Cecily shook her head and changed the course of the subject just a bit, "This makes Lizbeth the last remaining birthright L'Rose! When she comes of age in a little over a year, all of this becomes hers, short of a Will showing up to say otherwise." She forced a smile, "When she takes over, I do hope my dear Lizbeth will want her poor aunt to stick around. It is lovely country, and I doubt I shall find a moneyed suitor now that I am approaching my middle years." There was yet a sense of joviality in her voice, even though it showed some strain.

Lizbeth gave a sympathetic look to her elder and appeared to wish to address the last point made, but was swiftly cut off by the arrival of three scullery workers, two pushing carts adorned with white cloths and silvery cloaches, and one carrying a basket of tools and small bowls with prepared ingredients therein. A bountiful but relatively simply prepared feast was set out upon the table, which was listed out by Cecily as it hit the table. "Coffee, if you've never had it, tea, fresh milk, or wine dilute to drink. Mille feuille pastry with walnuts and honey, croissants and hot pepper jam, sorghum cakes, fruit preserves, a whole basket of boiled eggs (for some reason) with thick, tangy aioli, red wine jelly, fresh country butter, baked apples and blush pears, heavy crust bread, and shredded, fried potatoes. If you wish, the gentleman to the right will be happy to prepare a scratch omelette on the spot for any or all of you. This is a token of my appreciation and an official welcome to the Rose River Vineyard. Please enjoy yourselves."

With nothing left for two of the scullery folk to set out, they gave a curt bow and backed away from the table for three steps before turning their backs and returning to the kitchen. Those particularly astute in their observation may notice that the demeanor of professionalism drops as soon as they get more than a few meters away from the breakfast, showing an eagerness to get back inside paired with the occasional glance to one another, as if counting down the seconds until they may gossip about something in earnest. Likewise for those arriving from the front, stout armed men can be seen headed toward the stables, murmuring among themselves about, "More footprints found. No shoes this time. Who in their right mind goes about barefoot this time of the year?" They clam up once the realize new people are nearby, offering neighborly smiles and many a tip of the hat.

Kosara was quickly mixing the second batch of dough for Berry to knead while she was going to be cooking the first ones over the skillet, she was looking at him kneading it. It was kinda adorable… sort of. This big dragonborn fancy monk kneading dough with his one hand. Hmm… her sisters weren’t going to believe her if she told them. Nahh they would, they would just be confused at first probably.

“They also mentioned that the ankhegs were out of season.” The tiefling replied to Berry with a shrug.” Have no idea what it was, all I know is that the ankhegs went after Cecily, Lizbeth and their friend and before they reached them out of nowhere the thing froze in fear and started backing down.” The warlock stated, checking the temperature on the skillet.” Now… I couldn’t figure out what it’s reason for fear was nor I spotted anything suspicious, but even if we are looking at coincidences it’s weird. So… loose bet, either one of the 3 of them, something on the cart or… something was hiding behind them? Can’t say, but it should be a reason for thought. Any of them could also have had a magical item without knowing it… or it was fully coincidental, BUT THERE WAS SOMETHING!” The pale woman finished her explanation. Now to be said, she wasn’t about to accuse any of them, but there were possible reasons why it could have happened. Panicking too much without any information was a bad idea, but it meant you should keep an eye out just in case.” Yeah it’s perfect, here do the same to this one. I will prepare the first ones in the meantime.”

Once he kneaded the first batch she gave him the second one as she began tearing it to parts and preparing the flat breads, putting them on the skillet. She also pulled a bit of ankheg meat, dicing it to tiny bits, planning to roast/fry them on the skillet with the last bread.” Hmm?” She made a curious sound as she heard the question by the monk, tilting her head to the side adorably.” YES!” Was her first reply that was very simple and direct as she fussed over the breads

“We are VERY good friends!” She confirmed happily.” Of course wee are close, I really, really like her!” Was what she was saying the same thing people would understand as meaning? Maybe… probably not. Not that she realized it.” My sisters all receive and exchange gifts with their friends back home! Especially if they frequent their services when they stay at the caravan rest.” She nodded. Again context and as far as Kosara knew those were indeed friendships. Granted exchange of money was involved, but the gifts weren’t for payment… so friendship right?” Besides have you seen the muscles on Kathryn? I want to see and touch all over them.” And back was the very misunderstood arguments and obsession/curiosity.

With that Kosara focused back on finishing the quick 6 flatbreads that neatly baked on the skillet. The last one she put on and added the bits of ankhegs to bake-fry beside it as she did so. In the end she had a small handful of tasty crispy ankheg meat that was quite alright. Could do with some spices though, she wrapped it in her flatbread and put the skillet out of the fire, making sure everything was as clean as possible and secure.” Gotta go, quick, quick! We going to be late!” She hurried, grabbing the bundled flat breads that she had placed in a clean cloth and off she went, leaving easily misunderstood statements in her wake as she hurried to the breakfast arranged by the L’Roses.

On the way the main house, there were some folk that greeted with tipped hats, so Kosara gave them energetic waves with her free hand in return. Reaching the place of the breakfast wasn’t too hard, but she probably should have tried a basket instead of a cloth bundle. In any case, ending up at the breakfast locale she waved her hand.” Hope, we weren’t late!” She exclaimed as she arrived.” The food looks amazing!” Was the followed up exclamation in amazement.” Also I made flat breads for everybody! One for everybody.” She exclaimed raising her carefully bundled up munchies.” Can be eaten up later too, should be good for a while and make a fine snack on the go in between mealtimes!”

"Annick Floquet," stressed Victoria, committing it to memory as she didn't wish to get her writing implements from her knapsack right at that moment. In any case, the pens and inks that were present were of a very special kind, both looted from Constable Cavendish's stock of ritual materials and acquired from Sheriff Arbalest per their arrangement. Victoria was a Bard. If she could remember lyrics or poetry after a single oration, she could remember the name "Annick Floquet of Southmoor." One thing allowed for a moment of consideration, and that was the idea of a trade being involved. It had to be something she might want, obviously. Victoria guessed that the mentor-in-question was most likely not a musician, nor might she value the honor of being graced with private performances from one as talented as herself - things of this nature were often lost on people of more rural upbringing. And if she was being honest, it was a little bit of a lopsided deal, anyway, that persons of money and means entered into for the benefits of prestige amongst their fellows. A woman who was conscripted into service as an army physician decades ago and retired to a secluded spot in the country probably didn't care one wit for prestige.

The thoughts of what she might trade in exchange for mentorship aside from music (which seemed unlikely to be valued) or money (which she wasn't carrying a lot of, anyway). She had magic. Victoria was a creature of mixed Sylvan background and had a talent for plucking arcane notes from the song of creation - a gift which could be bartered anywhere for a not insubstantial sum - but her best spellwork involved things which made the general populous nervous. Perhaps she should lead with her mundane occupation of Funerary Violinist, if pressed on a specialty. Victoria did have one thing about her magical prowess that a Medician might find useful, as she thought about it: Healing Word. Be it minor healing at best, it could stabilize someone inflicted with physical traumas and fix most non-life-threatening hurts altogether. In an emergency, it was more immediately effective than natural medicine. Between access to that and her most useful spell, Prestidigitation, Victoria was confident she had enough to trade for specialized knowledge in Anatomy and Medicine. If she could convince the woman, this could work. And the Bard was very good at convincing people.

But the overall conversation wasn't about her that hour. If Victoria wished to stay in the moment, she would have to amend her thoughts to those around her and become part of the gathering more openly. The words which came from Lizbeth did turn her heart more toward the girl, as she had lost her parents. The fact that she was able to discuss it so openly made Victoria believe that it was a while ago, either long enough back that the worst of the sting had been blunted, else this happened when she was too young to remember it clearly. Still, Victoria did sympathize. She didn't know what she would do if she had lost her own parents during her formative years. A lot of who she was as a person was dependent upon the influence of her family, and if one didn't know it, she had a fairly high opinion of herself. Victoria found that she genuinely liked Lizbeth. The girl wasn't too horribly unlike her, when she was younger. Like a little sister, which she had three of already. Lizbeth would have fit in well with her people, even if she was fully Human.

Cecily's declarations touched a nerve with her, too. Victoria had never married. Never fallen in love, really, even if she had several dalliances of a sort before committing to her role as an Adventuring Bard. She knew several songs about altruistic, romantic love and could use the proper words to elaborate on the subject as if she were a seasoned professional, but did not have the opportunity to feel it for herself. Perhaps this was why she felt a touch of envy for Cecily's experiences, even if it resulted in loss. To be able to put that sort of emotion into her music would be a great gift. A costly gift. One well worth the pain and sadness if it came from a place of love, and love's loss. But this was not her fate and very likely would never be, either. This was not who she was. Tears began to form in her eyes as she listened to the two of them. Not the blackness which mimicked tears indicative that she was channeling magic in the way of the Grey Requiem, in and of itself which varied in expression, but the true, clear melancholy of one empathizing with a friend. Or at least a trusted acquaintance. "I am so sorry that the both of you had to go through that. Especially now that the family patriarch has passed. And particularly after the events of the past week. It must compound old feelings. Please let me know if I can do anything to ease your grief in this time, be it a task to perform or the dignity of not giving it mention." Victoria was around death and the rites thereabout enough to know that different people handled mourning in different ways.

One thing did occur to her, given a chance to process the information presented: There was an awful lot of death in this family. Only one heir remaining to the L'Rose fortune, and she was still considered a child by the laws of this land. Was there more to this?

Having been given the go-ahead to engage in mortal combat with the simple but amazing looking breakfast, Victoria surmised that it would be impolite not to. They were here for breakfast, and she had but a warming cup of apple/grapeleaf tea after she rose this morning. So, doffing her cloak and hat, she set them with the rest of her belongings near to the table and procured for herself a cup of bitter, black coffee. It had been a long time since she had experienced any, being a rarer thing this far north and a genuine preference for tea, usually. Still, an opportunity was an opportunity. Victoria had discovered that she was quite fond of the local pears, too, and so selected one from among the available fruit. Not wasting time on formalities, she slid her personal dagger from its sheath and nonchalantly speared one of the lovely things and raised it, still steaming lightly, from its dish. The pear almost slid right back off of the blade and back to the table, but Victoria quickly maneuvered herself to prevent an unsatisfying plop. She had to set down her cup to do so, but ultimately her efforts bore, well, fruit. The pear was artistically peeled in a sharp, spiral pattern and baked with wine, then set to a torch to caramelize the sugars therein on one side. It was softer than she had anticipated, hence the near-miss. But the flavor was exactly what she thought it might be, and awakened a genuine hunger within her.

By the time Victoria was selecting a place setting for herself, the first of her group was arriving. Kosara had just rounded the side of the Estate House, and with a bundle. "Why, good morning again!" she exclaimed, carefully waving the mostly intact pear impaled upon her long dagger. "Those breads do look outstanding. And it was so thoughtful of you to contribute, I'm sure! Still, I shall heed your advice and keep it reserved for later today, if you do not mind, Kosara." To Victoria's estimation, it would withstand the rigors of the day much better than the thousand-layered butter pastry and hot pepper jam that she was, in that moment, delicately placing onto her plate.

A quick note brushed through her mind, prompting Victoria to turn to their host. "Madame L'Rose, I apologize. I am behaving in a very informal manner. What is the appropriate point of etiquette in this instance? I do wish to enjoy this breathtaking meal without insulting your customs and culture." She took a small sip from her coffee and smiled warmly toward Cecily, hoping that a touch of openness would potentially smooth over any minor faux pas which may or may not have occurred. And it might score some points to appear willing to defer to a lady in her own home before getting too comfortable.

“Ha!” His barking laughter bounced around the room at Kosaras loose bet. “Oh yes, I could very well see Young Lizbeth frightening such beasts, haha! Let them wait see her after a seasons tutelage with Lady Kathryn and yourself, then! Then! They will no doubt know true fear and think twice before attacking again.” BlackBerry continued to chuckle fondly at the thought when he was passed the second batch of dough.

The kitchen then began to fill with the sound of bread sizzling in the pan then shortly followed by the delicious spiced aroma of cooking bread and meat as Kosara worked her magic, dashing between the skillet and the other counter top she was chopping and preparing meat on. BlackBerry breathed in delightful smells of cooking shortly before his stomach sounded its own appreciation.
While kosara talked, he settled back into the motions of kneading the second batch of dough, and then snapped his head towards her when she confirmed his suspicions. But as she continued talking and explaining those suspicions seemed less confirmed and more…not quite not confirmed? His polite smile faltered while his eyes jumped around the room trying to track Kosaras line of thinking with minimal success. He settled on ‘confirmed, but wanting to be more confirmed’.

With the final set of flat-breads done, BlackBerry promptly found himself being verbally dragged from the Coach House with only just enough time to inform the cleaner they were heading out to the manor for the day. He scurried after Kosara along the path towards the manor despite stopping repeatedly, taken aback by the sheer size of the vineyard and its beauty all laid out upon the land into polite sections, and organise by neat lines of slate. On their journey the pair passed a few stout workmen heading the opposite direction, BlackBerry offering a more subdued version of Kosaras frantic waving, murmuring amongst themselves about footprints which brought him to a slow stop. He turned his head back and forth between the workmen heading towards the stable in the distance, and then to Kosara striding away towards the Manor. Mentally adding another topic to his rapidly growing list he then hurried after Kosara with one last look over his shoulder towards the workmen.

Upon reaching the Manor, BlackBerry ended up following his nose more than Cecily’s instructions around towards rear of the building and found it thankfully more shielded from the brisk wind. Much to his delight he had arrived before anyone had started eating so he saw the marvellous array of foodstuffs swarming the table while nearly blocking anyone sitting on the other side from view.

“Good Morning to you all! My goodness gracious this is a feast, and then some! Have we missed much? I see that all have arrived and we are ready to begin I do hope.” BlackBerry, ever one to think of tasty food, wasted no time in finding a spot at the table between the pastries and baked apples. His ravenous hands lunged towards the unsuspecting treats but stopped short with a sudden jerk. “My apologies, where are my manners? Would anyone like a drink of uuhh…Tea? Milk? or…I’m not entirely sure what this may be.” He listed off the drinks as he lifted lids and peered into the pots with the last being a black, very bitter smelling drink.

Kathryn arrived later than she would have liked. Missing a chunk of the fun gossip, but thankfully not too much. Though seeing that much of it wasn't the fun kind of gossip, maybe it was best that she missed some of it. Kathryn walked up just as Lizbeth was talking about how much of her family had passed since she grew up. It was heart breaking. And unlike most people present, Kathryn understood what it was like to suffer such losses at such a young age. She wished she could do more to help the small woman. But maybe she could help out at least some. She was going to teach her how to defend herself, and with the kind of misfortune that has fallen onto her family, that had to mean something. Maybe she could defend herself should she be attacked, or even deter any attempts just by people knowing what she was capable of. Hopefully that could help the poor woman. It seemed the L'Rose curse only got worse as it turned out so much of the family had passed over time, leaving now... only Cecily and Lizbeth it seemed. But Kathryn listened on in sympathy. Not pity though, she worried for the people here. "It's a rough spot you find yourselves in. But you both seem like you have good heads on your shoulders. And don't discredit yourself Cecily, you're a very attractive woman. I'm sure if you wanted too you could find a wonderful suitor for yourself." Kathryn complimented the woman. There was no reason to put down someone who had been so accommodating to her and the party. It helped that she was a rather attractive woman.

Kathryn also found herself a woman of simple wants. She wanted the feeling of the rush she felt when she fought. She wanted to live in a grand castle with court yards, multiple keeps, several high towers, a great hall, lesser halls, and to have the power and respect that came with such a home. But in those simple tastes and wants she had, was a good breakfast. As Kathryn saw the sprawling food laid out before them it was difficult to not just dig in before anyone else could respond! "Cecily, Lizbeth. This is simply to much. This is a feast fit for a queen and her closest companions." Kathryn let out still trying to process their wonderful treatment. A dumbfounded smile on her face to help emphasize her pure shock. "I mean well.. Like Thank you!" She said still giddy with excitement! Yes the bits of Morty she had while on her walk were nice and all, even if it seemed weirdly familiar. She would have more later to try it again, see if she could place it. But this... this was a feast! Kathryn quickly got a plate and began loading it up with a little bit of everything! Like a starved child entering a candy store and being told they could keep whatever they could get onto their plate.

When Kosara and Blackberry stepped over with fresh flatbread, Kathryn swore she was going to melt! "These will go great with breakfast Kosara. In fact... I wonder if we could put an omelette inside it and wrap it up!" Kathryn was in full thinking with her stomach mode. But if she was going to be offered such a treat, something like she hadn't been able to experience since being a little girl, she was for sure going to take it. She then paused, looking at all the jams, honey, and other syrup like products on the table. DAMMIT! She thought. If she used the flatbread for the omelette then what would she put all the jams and such onto?! But then she saw it! The heavy crusted bread! She quickly went to work taking a couple pieces of that bread, and piling all a mix of... every single jam jelly and honey onto these pieces of wheat made food. The half giant eager to try all the sweets. As she worked on it, she enjoyed several boiled eggs, nearly swallowing them whole as they went. When Blackberry offered up about tea and milk, Kathryn had to disprove that theory as she stopped, chewed, and made sure her mouth was clear as she tried to respond. "Eh-hm" She coughed up clearing her throat. "Yes please. Tea sounds rather lovely at the minute." But some weird smell caught her nose. Something she may have smelled before... but not recently. And not something she could recognize at first. It was coming from a nearby kettle. Pouring some of the drink, the dark liquid smells both enticing, and smelled of warning. Taking a sip, she reflexively wasn't amused. The bitter taste contrasting the sweetness of the jams she was looking forward too. But curious, she tried another sip. Still hating it, but growing on her. She would continue to take small sips of the weird drink each time seeming to be visibly not pleased with the taste, but almost unable to stop herself. A few more sips and she found herself hooked. Soon setting down the weird dark and hot drink before she burned herself.

"Kosara! You have to try this drink. It tastes so bitter but its so good! I can't explain it!" The coffee in question wasn't a common luxury in Arcanaple. It was a rare treat for the wealthy lords who could afford to import it. Though sometimes her father would get her hands on some, it wasn't something to waste on a child who wasn't even allowed into political and war meetings. As Kathryn continued to prepare her rampage of the table, she stopped when she overheard Victoria asking about etiquette. Mother fucker. Kathryn's impulsive side had won out again. She was unable to wait for longer than a moment before her short attention span took over. Shamefully, she slowed herself, and found a comfortable seat near where she was piling up her breakfast. Took a napkin, arranged her silverware, and acted rather like a proper noble woman as she began to set up. Like V though, she would also wait to enjoy breakfast (Even more so) until she had a better idea of the proper etiquette to follow.

Weather: A steady coolness settles over the land, with the fully established morning sun cutting through the hardest of the season's edges. Wind gusts through the open areas around the estate do an amazing job reminding people that sharper weather was possibly headed their way.

Time: Early to mid morning. An excellent time for a leisurely breakfast and the discussion of plans.

Ambience: The breakfast table lay filled with various delights, simple in presentation but with a drawing feature that only well made foodstuffs can provide on a cold morning. The worst of the wind gusts is abated by the presence of the great Estate House, giving the protection of its bulky, exterior walls. Braziers filled with hot coals vented heat, the radius of which overlapped with the one next to it, giving an oasis of relative warmth around the al fresco breakfast table.

The view overlooking the river is noteworthy, if one walks to the edge of the terrace. Sounds of water leisurely passing by are muted but ever-present, competing with the sharper yet distant sounds of people putting lines in the river and pulling the occasional fish back out. Truly, it is a nice day for fishing, is it not? It might even inspire a contented chuckle to that effect.

From this vantage, one may see the stretching fields containing rows upon rows of grape vines upon framework, most starting to show the signs of seasonal dormancy but still mostly green in the distance beyond the river's bend. The hill just beyond the river's cove to the west held the stone lookout where Kathryn stood atop just earlier, the top third only visible past the larger bushes and trees therebetween.

The house itself stood as a monument to the capability of industry and the money acquired by it. Not the dwelling of a ranked noble of some prosperous king's court, nor a palace set to receive siege against armies, but an excellent example of wealthy folk of common birth who had done well enough to pass their prosperity and reputation to the next generations. Good, solid wood and stone fitted together with quality, panes of locally produced glass mortared within stout frames with heavy, safe shutters, and controllable access points, one of which led into a kitchen that one could glimpse small portions of when it opened to admit one or another of the domestic or scullery workers.



The barest mention of an omelette got the apron-clad gentleman cracking eggs into a bowl and assaulting them furiously with a small wire whisk. A brief pause to add a touch of cream and dash of salt marked the only reprieve the albuminous yellow liquid saw before it was re-introduced to a beating so vigorous and frothy as to teach all the other eggs present lessons of humility. "What would Madame prefer in her omelette, if you please?" came his voice, heavily influenced by a local accent. There were options of a decent variety, both animal and vegetable. Maybe even a bit of fungal.

The flatbreads were accepted by the L'Roses with differing amounts of enthusiasm. Cecily gave a pleasant, "Why, thank you," and folded it, setting it upon the side of the plate in front of her. Lizbeth, ever the grasper of life, immediately ripped a bit of it free and popped it into her mouth. Pleased with this, she applied a formidable helping of pepper jam upon if and began to devour in a manner that was probably not as ladylike as her aunt would have preferred. This was made evident by the sudden, sharp clearing of Cecily's throat, and a reduction in the vigor with which the younger L'Rose consumed her bread. When she came to an appropriate moment to do so, Lizbeth gave a hasty, "Thank you!" and continued.

At one point, Lizbeth addressed the mention of the name Annick Floquet, sharing, "She has a daughter who's older than I am. She's nicer than her mother. I think her father died in the war, but... I've never met him." This earned a sharp look from Cecily, prompting an apologetic look from Lizbeth. Apparently, there was a little difficulty with oversharing that she still had to address.

Cecily made an abrupt subject change to answer Victoria's question about local manners. "Oh, we are politely informal here," she began, gesturing at the lack of a dozen different kinds of forks and spoons. "Don't use the tablecloth as a napkin, use serving spoons to serve and supping spoons to sup, and don't put a butter utensil in the honey. That sort of thing. Common manners of the realms north of the mountains. And I don't mean this to insult," she paused to look around the table, "but if any of you are far traveling folk who are unaware, please just observe and act accordingly. I am quick to forgive small matters of table etiquette among friends, especially if they are trying. If you are versed in formalities, then the same rules as Khimn or Argentum gentry would apply, even if I shan't hold you to it." Since the first big war against the Alhazred, the collective groups of desert people to the south, there was a great exchange of ideas and culture, including a formalized agreement of trade language and an diffusion of etiquette, thanks in part to intermarrying families from the classes nobility of several different nations, not to mention the breaking down and restructuring of territories. It wasn't a full homogenization of manners, not by a far stretch, as pockets of older schools of thought and less extroverted sections of cultures kept to their old customs. For this reason, it was safe enough to ask, just in case.

Another mention of manners got Cecily's attention, this from Baronfjord, and to a point that might have gone to the host or service staff were it not for the small speech that she had just given. "Coffee. That is coffee. If you are unfamiliar, please have some for yourself. My father called it 'an acquired taste, like good whisky.' But not for me, thank you." She offered up a cup for the martially inclined Dragonborn to fill, requesting, "Tea, please." She made her movements deliberate and demonstrative, just in case anyone needed a refresher course on the northern standard of etiquette without having to ask. Cecily seemed a lot more in control of herself and her emotions now that she was back home, the present Lady of the Manor, so to speak. More assertive seeming.

Concerning her availability to suitors, as noted by Kathryn, Cecily smiled just a little. "Sweet of you to say. I know I'm not the youngest girl at the festival, but I still turn a few heads, if you'll forgive me. But no, I simply couldn't marry again, knowing I might have to leave this place, and it would be questionable if someone of means desired to stay here when Lizbeth comes of age. I believe I might be happiest as the Vineyard's caretaker, if the recently annointed Madame L'Rose of Rose River allows." She nodded to Lizbeth, who was busy applying butter to a steaming mille feuille.

Lizbeth took a moment to allow her brain to catch up to the conversation, when she suddenly plopped her extremely delicate, thousand-layer pastry onto her bread plate. "Aunt Ceecee, of course you can be the caretaker. You kind of already are, aren't you? And even if you weren't, or wanted to retire, this is your home." It was said in the matter-of-factly tone that only absolutely certain teenagers were capable of achieving.

"So tell me," inquired Cecily to the whole of the table while moving to put a few choice morsels on her plate, "have you any plans for how you will spend your time here at Rose River Vineyard? I might be able to point you in a helpful direction."

Kosara gave V a huge beaming smile at the comment about her contribution. Yes Kosara was happy to be praised. A bit of praise was good for you! With that she proceeded to give the breads around the table before taking one of the empty seats.” I wouldn’t mind at all! In fact they are great meal to have on the go.” The tiefling confirmed to her bardic friend. She then turned to her VERY good friend and grinned.” You could! Back home we used to wrap meats and other things all the time. Mine has some Ankheg meat I roast-fried on the skillet before we left. It turned out pretty good I think, a bit different to fried scorpions, but quite tasty. Would go well with wine I think… or cactus water. All kinds of things go well with cactus water. Also maybe with beer... I hear fried meats sometimes go well with beer.”

She grinned and nodded at Berry.” Would love some tea to go along with the breakfast.” The white haired woman admitted and looked at the variety that was presented at the table. This certainly was a veritable feast for most reasons. There was enough food for everybody and even some options. She was wondering what to get when Kathryn got loud again and proclaiming aloud the marvels of that drink she tried that was apparently bitter. Kosara eyed Kathryn again with intense focus, trying to figure if she needed another Lesser Restoration in case she had drank some alcohol again, but supposedly there was no Alcohol involved.” But I like tea and there’s such a good tea here! So I will have to pass. Berry, I would love some tea!” She replied, eyeing Kathryn’s drink with intent eyes. Intent on what? Well that was only for Kosara’s mind to know.

“You are welcome, Lizbeth!” Kosara told the younger woman with a happy smile. Her food was liked! That was a nice feeling! Not that back home people didn’t like her cooking, she just didn’t have too many chances to do so. There were people who were working on the job back home with that, getting paid and everything. So she couldn’t hinder their jobs. On that note she was pulling some regular bread and pondering what to put on it when she looked at Cecily who was explaining etiquette to them. She listened carefully and then looked down at the spoons when they were brought up as a topic. So different spoons for different things… yes? She eyed the spoons on the table, trying to discern the differences. Was this one of those different spoon for each part of the meal thing that some travelers back home spoke about? She couldn’t see the difference much at this moment, so she went back over the words that were spoken. She looked at the spoon by her with eyes of a hawk.’ Oh…’ She figured it out! Spoon for Supping, not spoon for Souping! Sup not soup! The tiefling let out a visible sigh of relief. So in any case she just picked some cheese to go with her bread.

Ignoring the heavy topics of succession which was apparently a thing even with this family, Kosara was preparing herself a toast with jam and cheese as she looked up when Cecily asked what their plans were.” I plan to keep in practice so lots of dancing, but besides that… I’m thinking of just exploring the world around as the winter settles in. I’ve never seen snow before or had the time to properly explore nature this far north from my home. So… probably whenever I’m not dancing or about the estate, I’m going to be out exploring.” Or in other words, she was going to be playing in the fields and forests of the Estate. Because if her dancing in the rain back in Avonshire was anything to go by, she was going to love the snow. Locating anything unusual in the fields and forest would just be a nice bonus on top.

There was a certain amount of informality in Victoria's mealtime actions at first. When she put Cecily to the question concerning the proper rules of etiquette for the region and got back assurances that it was something akin to standard for her own homeland, a change came over her actions. The Bard carefully removed the pear from her dagger and cleaned the blade as best she might with a kerchief. She then sheathed the weapon and returned to her meal with a more structured set of behaviors. A piece of conversation she had with Kathryn, perhaps on the road or in the Coach House, came to mind. She was a noble lady without a lot of experience in the formalities of interaction with others of her social status. Victoria, however, was. It was part of her education and occupation, being able to move seamlessly from one event to another, if not as one of nobility then well enough not to call herself out as someone who didn't belong there. To this point, she made sure to make eye contact with Kathryn and shift into better articulated table manners.

The old roguish maxim of "Always use your own blade" was set aside so that she may disassemble her food in a genteel and courteous manner, giving less effort required for cleaning staff and making others with more refined proclivities as comfortable as possible. The pear was lovely as it was, but a small table knife and the fork provided divided the item into bite sized pieces, still roughly assembled, upon her plate. Victoria had added to this a sorghum cake with fruit preserves and carefully bid the scullery fellow still present, "Sir, if I may? Two egg omelette with a touch of cheese, please. Not too much. And mushrooms, if you have them. I can wait, if needed. Thank you so much." The bidding of thanks was not strictly necessary in this instance, but while she could potentially mimic a noble if she desired, she was born into a merchant-class family and believed that laborers shouldn't be invisible while plying their trades. To the food on her plate now, she took a portion of fruit preserves and placed it delicately upon her sorghum cake, careful for the spoon to not actually touch the item in question, and not in amounts large enough to trail off it and onto the plate itself. Satisfied, Victoria took a small sip from her coffee and filled her hands with the utensils appropriate to her food selections. She sat straight up, not touching the back of her chair as she worked upon her plate, with her face straight ahead even as her eyes kept to the food below her. Occasionally, she would scan the table to see if anyone was beginning conversation which may involve her, but otherwise kept to herself until she wished to initiate a point of conversation.

These actions were deliberate, and just slightly exaggerated for the purposes of educating any which would be able to view them. Kathryn, for instance. If the Knight who trained her didn't feel like teaching her how to be a Lady, then damnit, the socialite might give a tutorial or two. When Victoria was ready to engage in polite conversation, she picked up on something Kosara had said which angled into her personal bailiwick. "Dancing, yes. I have a great fondness for dance, as the mood takes me. It is superb exercise and keeps me limber." For those who had seen her move, especially in combat, she was second only to the Monk in fleetness of step and manual dexterity. And she did seem to dance in a rather acrobatic way, instead of plying a martial practice. "As the violin does for my hands, dance does for my body. One must keep one's girlish figure somehow." The last part was delivered with a coquettish smile. "And while I intend to dance, sing, and play music to the very limits of my ability, I do intend to make this time a learning experience. I wish to learn Medicine. Particularly Anatomy. Madame Cecily tells me there might be such a teacher in Southmoor, provided I can be convincing enough. If fate, or at least circumstance, decrees that we remain companions for a time longer, I believe these skills will be valuable to us as well as useful for me, personally, in my professional endeavors." She paused for a moment to consider her words, "It may be prudent to save what arcane or divine healing abilities we possess for the direst of moments, should such emergencies arise. And if we exhaust those skills entirely, it is likewise prudent to have mundane skills to fall back upon." She definitely stopped short of mentioning that knowledge of this would also make her a more effective Necromancer. Hopefully that part wasn't implied too vividly. "I shall try to visit later this morning, in fact. It would be polite to bring a gift. Hmm..."

As Victoria mulled over the possibilities, she took another sip from her cup, then looked to Baronfjord who had apparently chosen to sit next to the coffeepot. "Please, Master Chedgusah, would you warm my cup a bit?" She expectantly held out her thin, porcelain cup to the blue-hued Monk, adding, "And do let me know if I might hand you something nearby, of course."

Kathryn found herself giddy as a princess picking out her dress for her first ever ball. That was if the ball was breakfast, the dress was a tasty omelette, and she was closer to a half giant murder drone than a princess many days. Calming herself, as she was supposed to be the lady of the party, Kathryn straitened her posture and attempted to act more professional. She then waited until V was wrapped up with her order before Kathryn made her own. "Once you are done there, if it is no trouble my good sir, a six egg omelette, with plenty of cheese. Peppers, grilled onions, and a meat product of your choice." Kathryn said in her most polite lady like tone. "Thank you ever so much." She said in a sweet tone. Kathryn held a lot of respect for people with skills. Skills had to be learned, and earned. The skills she shared with others, she understood what it took to obtain those skills. Those skills she doesn't currently posses, and has little chance to obtain, she held a whole different respect for. She hoped this chef understood his value.

Kathryn listened to Cecily closely as she spoke about her future. She seemed so unsure of it, but it seemed like Cecily and Lizbeth got along great? Why was that such a huge concern for the woman that she may not have this as a home someday. "You seem really worried about being forced to leave here someday? I doubt Lizbeth has any plans to get rid of you once she takes over. Plus, you seem like a great caretaker of the property. You both have far more skills at such a thing than I do." Kathryn said with a reassuring smile towards Cecily, but was hoping that her assumptions were right. "I'll admit, I should probably improve my skills there. For an heiress my property management skills are lacking. Unless it's clearing a storm cellar of ale, or challenging and accepting duels, I don't have a ton of people managing skills. But that is a long way off from now." That part wasn't exactly true. As of this point it was non existent. She lacked money, supporters, an army, and no backing of nobility to lay claim to her titles and lands. And acquiring new lands would be nearly impossible without the rest. And though it was still on her mind, she tried her best to not let that part of her life that she lost get in the way of the life she was living now.

What she did have however, was Victoria. Who thought wasn't a lady in title, she was as close as someone could be to a lady in practice! At least out of those Kathryn knew. Maybe she could learn a thing or two from her mini friend? And maybe Kat could return the favor to the small woman? Victoria's actions seemed to be deliberate. And not just because she was actually practiced in being a well mannered woman, but because... Maybe she was trying to help? The eye contact she made helped to confirm that. As Victoria made her motions, Kathryn did her best to imitate them. She had the foundation of the skill to follow them, but she was very out of practice. The skills she picked up from Ser Lucas mostly consisted of bar brawling, sword fighting, drinking, and how to make a fool of one's self in front of someone you tried to romance. Kathryn followed closely, paying more attention to V than her own actions, but began using the right utensils, organized her dishware, placed her napkins neatly and gingerly, and went at a pace of eating that didn't imply she was a starving child or a looter looking for a quick meal. Had she been wearing a dress, hadn't just come back from a run, and had put in the effort from the beginning, she could have passed as a noble woman, visiting her supporters as they discussed their plans for the year. Kathryn found herself so ingrained in the moment, she didn't notice when her fork missed her plate, and stuck one of the serving plates with a block of cheese on it. With eyes firmly locked onto V, Kathryn brought a not so small block of cheese up to her mouth, and pushed it partially in. Kathryn realized the mistake she made far too late to correct it though. Deciding it was better to finish what she started and act like nothing happened rather than spit out most of a block of cheese, she simply kept swallowing the block of cheese until her lips closed around the fork, and her cheeks looked like that of a chipmunk preparing to hide a stash of food for the winter. Slowly and awkwardly Kathryn chewed, now unable to break eye contact with V as she panicked making the situation worse. After what seemed like forever, she had finally chewed the cheese enough to swallow a few times to deal with her mistake. "'Cuse me...." She muttered as she pounded her chest briefly. Then paused, remembering her manners. "Excuse me." She said correcting herself, before letting out a loud and defining belch to be heard by all on the river. "...sorry..." she muttered meekly. Face beat red, Kathryn finally found herself able to turn away from everyone while she found a way to salvage the situation. Finding none, she tried to turn to other matters hoping this incident would pass fast.

It seemed a lot of things were going on at once here and there giving Kathryn an out hopefully. When she asked Kosara if she wanted to try some coffee, the tall woman almost didn't notice that Kosara was watching her... intently. The tall woman couldn't quite make out the face. Was she angry? Upset? Thinking too hard? Oh gods... what if she was flirting?! And if she was what if it was real flirting and not just Kosara being Kosara?! Where flirtatious actions were just the norm for her instead of flirting?! Kathryn unsure what to make of the situation, simply smiled holding up the cup of coffee with a big toothy grin on her face. "Understandable. You enjoy your tea, I will enjoy this... Coffee." She said hesitantly before taking another sip, seemingly regretting it, and then taking another sip to wash it down, and the tasty cheesy taste of embarrassment. "Dancing sounds like it would be a lot of fun. Never been a good once myself, though my father made sure I picked up some dances when I was younger. Funny enough, my mother even agreed I should learn to dance. One of the few things that they ever agreed on." Kathryn listened intently as Kosara and V explained their winter plans. She had to think a bit what she wanted to do though. "I guess over the winter myself, I am just going to keep training myself. There is always room for improvement. Maybe smith up a couple training weapons for Lizbeth and I to use so neither of us get hurt too badly while we train." Kathryn commented to the smaller girl. "And if we're not too worried about marching and the giving and taking of orders, we can work mostly on how to fight and defend yourself. It'll be interesting as I doubt Lizbeth and I will have the same fighting styles. But I am fairly familiar with many forms of combat. I can set Lizbeth up and she can figure out what is most comfortable to her." Kathryn stopped and pondered it some more. "Otherwise I am just likely to explore a bit like Kosara. But mine will be more as a workout than anything. Could be nice to slow down from time to time though." Kathryn said a bit excited for the winter. She loved the snow herself. And absolutely wanted to build snow forts, throw snow balls, and see what could be found in this winter wonderland!

Happy with the knowledge that everyone was quite happy with their flatbreads he turned his mind to the very important topic of Breakfast. After pouring tea for those who accepted the offer BlackBerry then served himself a small sampling of the ‘coffee’. He eyed the pitch black liquid carefully as it steamed happily and his murky reflection looked up at him carefully. BlackBerry had seen Lady Kathryns reaction and wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to try at first, b her then saying it tasted good put those worries to rest.

BlackBerry took a sip of the drink and promptly regretted it. The scalding, bitter drink assaulted his tongue and he fought to restrain a small cry of surprise and disgust. Trying his hardest to not make an absolute fool of himself or insult their host, BlackBerry swallowed the mouthful and put the cup back on the table.

“I daresay it is not to my taste either.” He shook his head trying not to squirm in his chair, and instead reached for a fresh cup, the teapot, followed by two spoonfuls of honey into his tea.

But now was time for the next important part of Breakfast; after drink it was time for food, and Madame L’Rose had arranged a most marvellous spread. But a flag flew in his mind, his hand coming to a halt just before grasping a pastry, and directed him to the various utensils gathered around the dish in front of him and around the larger dishes containing food on display. Back home, meal times were often a case of grabbing all the good stuff before everyone else could, and eating on the road didn’t have any strict rules at all. BlackBerry withdrew his claws from the pastries and instead settled for using the tongs as he had seen the others do so, the slices of bread however seemed quite happy to be handled as usual.

His plate quickly found itself stacked with; two slices of bread, a trio of fruit jam dollops, a small bowl with a handful of chopped fruits hidden beneath some yogurt, and a nice buttery pastry to finish off everything. He even politely requested two fried eggs to go on top of another slice of bread. The next issue then became the Cutlery. Serving spoons, forks, and the like were easy to know as they were just bigger versions of the usual ones, but now he was faced with multiple of each all in front of him. He stared down at the shining utensils, eyes hoping madly from one to another as they silently fought to be the one to use first.

A cup was suddenly thrust towards him by Victoria asking for another cup of coffee which he politely obliged. Whilst doing so it gave him a chance to check what utensils she was using so that once the cup had been refreshed he copied her utensil selection.

Munching happily away at his breakfast he let the conversation carry on without him for a while but turned his head to focus on each person as they spoke their plans for the next few months. His eyes did momentarily stop at Lady Kathryn who managed to eat a comically large block of cheese without unhinging her jaw. He put down his fork. Otherwise the conversation proceeded without much excitement as they all listed their plans for the season, though one lacking point in Lady Kathryns plans did catch his attention.

After wiping away a straw bit of jam from his lips BlackBerry turned to Lady Kathryn with goading grin. “And no plans for our battle then, Miss Knight? Poor show, poor show indeed. Why just last night I recall you saying ‘I get you into a good hold, or on your back and you’re pretty f-’” His mind suddenly sounded the alarm demanding a course correction. The goading look was wiped away in the sudden panic. “in-in trouble. That is what you said, and I am not a man who backs down from such challenges.”

“But before then, Victoria, may I join you to Southmoor this morning? I wish to buy a few articles of clothing more suitable for the oncoming months.” As if on cue a small breeze slipped around the Manors guard making the Dragonborn shiver and pull his jacket closer to him. “I would also see about sending off a letter or two home if possible.” He then added with a chuckle. “No dances or the like anytime there soon unfortunately, and no doubt any dances I know would pale in comparison to yourselves.”

“Before I forget, Madame L’Rose. Might I offer my services to help around the stables? I admit I am not an expert in the care of animals but I have grown somewhat attached to Old Boy, our mule, and would appreciate some tutelage on his care in return for doing any odd jobs that may need an extra hand or two before the first snow.”

Weather: An even layer of snow has fallen upon the land; not so thick as to bury anything important in layered drifts, but enough to give all of the land around the even colors of a true winter. The snow came in fully four days prior, and in that time the temperature has not gotten warm enough to melt the frozen precipitation away, though it is not so cold as to halt the river with ice, either. The season has officially changed from autumn.

Time: Let us give a level estimate of mid to late morning. The a.m. chores around the Vineyard have been accomplished, breakfast has been had, and everyone not committed to a task is free to spend their day as they see fit.

Ambience: A glistening white landscape stretches out over the land as far as one can see, reflecting a pale sun back to the sky. Wind, cold and steady, prompts those unfamiliar with a solid winter to bundle as best they might, while the more constant temperatures allows those who are familiar to grow accustomed to it. Accustomed, but not immune. The hardiest Northerner will still tell you that it's a bit brisk out in comparison to just a week ago.

There has been a marked decline in field staff as of late, with the exception of the ones working the vines containing plump, white globules of fruity goodness. The grapevines maintain their bounty long after many of the others have gone dormant or with the cold, their pale, white-green bunches fading into a sagging yellowish - yet still clinging to something akin to vitality. Other workers have called it a season, as well, all but those needed to handle domestic work and handling the animals. They retain their positions by virtue of their livelihoods not being seasonal.

There does seem to be a push to clear deliveries by the river as quickly as possible. One does not wish to pilot an inland watercraft when ice begins to accumulate. The influx of nonperishable foodstuffs and small livestock for the winter is expected, and noted. Trade overland does not bear the same type of busyness. Upticked a little, as snow does make people nervous for travel, but nothing so hazardous as to invite an official road closing. So long as one keeps to the main routes, things are quite manageable for the meantime.

Hot drinks and aromatic spices form the regular during this time. Teas, and things which resemble teas but are in fact dried fruits boiled in honeyed water are common among the more and less financially comfortable with equal regard, particularly among those who are affiliated with the Rose River Vineyard. It appears that the L'Roses had a habit of giving little luxuries to their employees. Creams and the like were turned into custards, lest they freeze or spoil immediately, and local baked goods of all shapes and sizes make confident, frequent appearances.

People do what they can to keep warm. Even while at work in the fields, one may find break areas near to outbuildings with burn barrels, useful for discarding overgrowth, vine trimmings, and for keeping one's hands limber in the dropping temperatures. Despite this, the most work gets done during the middle part of the day when the sun is highest and on to the middle afternoon. As the day darkens, temperatures remind those out of doors that it is, in fact, the start of winter.



Kosara's journeys out and about within the fields and hills of the Vineyard is quite an interesting one for someone unaccustomed to such charming locales. The difference between the rows and open spaces from the yellows of autumn and the sudden blanketed white of winter is striking, as if wandering through a whole new place. One can only wonder what glorious views may yet come during the spring and summer months. Two oddities appear during her jaunts over the week - one strange, possibly barely an issue at all for what Kosara knew about grape growing, and the other a genuine mystery.

For the former, whilst skipping happily about one of the fields which (as she came to understand) sported fat, purple-red grapes during spring and summer but now stood barren, the curious Tiefling saw a couple bunches of grapes forming on what appeared to be dead vines. Places marked for clearing and replanting, populated with vines bearing dry, brown leaves and brittle tendrils lay before her, supposedly incapable of supporting flowering, fruiting flora. But curiously, here were two spindly bunches of near tiny, near-black grapes with tough, withered skins. They even seemed to pulsate a little if Kosara really stared at them. Was it imagination? Maybe.

The latter (the mystery) came as the result of a minor accident on Kosara's part. Leaning against a smallish, shady hill which featured a prominent sycamore tree atop, away from the main planting areas, dirt gave way to expose what appeared to be intentionally stacked stones, as if to form a loose, uneven wall. The only part exposed of this wall was about shoulder high, but the fact that the stones were stacked in the manner they were hinted at the rest of the structure.

Victoria's time spent in Southmoor was almost a waste. Approaching the lady empty-handed was a bad idea, but what sort of gift does one get for someone who was semi-retired, a combat veteran, and generally wished to be left alone? Perhaps something personal. Or perhaps something practical. Somehow, the gift of one's presence (regardless of how flowery) just didn't like it would cut it with a woman with the reputation of Annick Floquet. The woman herself was shorter than Victoria expected, given her reputation, though in truth she was about the same height as the Half-Elf who sought her out. Annick was Human, appearing to be in her early fifties, with voluminous, steel-grey hair which hung past her shoulders. Eyes as wintry as the season regarded Victoria suspiciously, and this was after her front door slammed open to reveal her, carrying a worn but polished shortsword in hands like iron. Her exposed forearms hinted at strength and ability which outstripped her slender frame. "Is this an emergency?" she asked stonily, noting the sword at Victoria's waist and taking in other details that she didn't seem to prefer. "Or is it about to be an emergency?" She shifted to the side so that a younger woman of similar build behind her in the cottage, proper, to have a clear shot with a simple but effective crossbow. "Well?"

Victoria's return to the Vineyard later was marked by a very insistent, very bald Dwarf named Urmdrus running up to her with a thin rope. Without so much as a "by your leave", he began to place it to the Bard's body in various places and marking the rope with bits of charcoal. A guttural "Harrumph," served as the only thing which passed for discussion from the odd fellow. He retreated back to his workshop, measurements in hand.

Kathryn's next few mornings were punctuated with Lizbeth appearing early, sometimes in the small, dark hours of the day, just showing up before the tall Knight was fully ready to go, herself. It might have been maddening but for the fact that she had a decent enough excuse for doing so, that being Kathryn's own invitation, and likely full access to the Coach House besides. She didn't seem to mind the more limited morning training interactions of workouts and runs, though it was obvious that she was not in the same kind of physical shape as her new mentor. Lizbeth made up for this with an abundance of determination, almost to the point of obsession. Whatever was on the table was good for her, even if it did find her overexerting herself to the point of detriment.

The same treatment that Victoria had gotten from Urmdrus with the rope was also visited upon Kathryn, though he was forced to carry a stool with him to make the necessary measurements. "Hmm. Armor will be good. Need to piss more for me. Important. Piss in buckets." He toddled off as quickly as he appeared.

The instance of Kathryn's appearance at the workshop prompted a raised eyebrow and a reach for one of the Dwarf's *really big hammers* until he realized that it was her, and this was probably business. When the talk, or a close approximation to a talk with all things considered, turned to practice weapons, he jammed a stubby finger toward a corner of his work area where there sat a collection of woodworking tools and barrel staves of various sizes, as well as rough-hewn bits of tree which might pass for painfully overbalanced training items, including a great wooden mallet (that actually looked like it was intended to be a great wooden mallet for a practical purpose as opposed to a training implement). "Work there. Can watch. Don't get in my way." he returned to his work, which looked an awful lot like he was pulling a green, not-quite-formed cuirass out of a less-than-pleasant tub of hopefully unidentified liquid and taking an iron rasp to it every now and again. To one side, there was a simmering cauldron of aromatic oil that he would occasionally pull a segment of chitin from, bend in a specific way, and toss back in.

When he noticed eyes upon him, he huffed and pulled a cloth off of his workbench. It revealed a complete shield made of chitin - glossy dark green with metal fittings, and cutouts which contained silvery metal. The overall look was one of giant, overlapping grape leaves in horizontal placement. "Fine shield. Acid not touch. Maybe can enchant later. Armor, like shield."

It was a few days later that Kathryn was able to witness that Lizbeth was also taking training with Urmdrus, but nearer to dusk, and for about an hour. He seemed to have some skill as an unarmed combatant as well as familiarity with a variety of weapons. Rather than building her up physically, he attempted to drill the girl with technique. Organized technique one might use when grouped with soldiers, hinting at his background. He made it a point not to monopolize the training time in this way, as he knew Kathryn was her primary mentor. One could even hear him intone to Lizbeth, "I help. But Human must learn Human warfare. Duergar not best for you."

Baronfjord's request to work the stables was taken with a little bit of disbelief. To offer to work for the L'Roses during their time here seemed counterintuitive to the idea of thanking them for their noble and (mostly) selfless acts which resulted in her and her niece's safety. "I don't understand why you would wish to be an uncontracted stableboy, but if you wish, speak with Jon. He is quite large, and is the stablemaster, such as we have one - let us say the seniormost stable hand - and he is might be found at the stable in front of the Estate House. I will say, your beloved mule is presently in the stable attached to the Coach House. If it makes it easier, you might try to assist the stablehand who tends to your beast, there, until you are more comfortable. I shall make sure to send Jon to handle it himself and train, if this works better for you."

Wrapping things up with the breakfast, Victoria did acquiesce to some company going into Southmoor. Practicality stated that she could not stop one from leaving the Vineyard if they wished to visit the nearest town, and there was no desire to employ deception nor violence to make it so. She did insist that she meet with her potential mentor alone, however.

Shops and the like had not moved from the last time the group had been to Southmoor, and so locating what could be had for purchase was a relatively quick affair unless one wanted to take their time and spend leisurely day in the smallish settlement. What passed for parcel service was a little less obvious. While is was not referred to as such, the town's municipal building was multifunctional, it's few rooms each serving multiple purposes such as court, constabulary (of almost three people!), hall of records, etc., and yes, lettercarriers' office.

The fair haired man behind the counter was quick to explain that parcels traveling any great distance would cost a bit more than most were willing to pay and they could not guarantee prompt safe delivery outside of the region. But it was most likely to get there as organizations like this, regardless of origin, had some dedicated personnel. Items sent within the town would be put with the daily outgoing mail, while items bound for elsewhere in the region were collected every couple of days. There was a fellow who came down from the Avonshire Township at the start of the week to drop off and collect things bound for far elsewhere, and the appropriation of a private courier might be within one's best interest, albeit at some expense, to ensure direct delivery of one's letters if they had a truly lengthy journey to take. The man seemed helpful, if but a little full of himself.



And so, it is mid-morning one week later. The sun is high in the sky and the air has all of the crisp qualities of the season. All open areas of the Vineyard have a blanket of quiet snow, and while the river remains in motion, people still try to pull fish from it. The party finds itself quite without the responsibilities of their chosen methods of occupying their time on this day and it has past both breakfast and constitutionals, giving those within the Coach House their first hour of being fully assembled as a group (outside of estalished mesltimes) in days. But with the pause comes the question for adventuring types - what to do; what to do?

Alright, Kosara was ready to admit it. She quite liked this place… the nature around these parts was marvelous. As much as she loved the south, the endless seas of golden sandy dunes, the gentle sound of the winds, the beautiful clean if a bit cold evenings with the clear skies and the moon so beautifully hanging in the skies. Ohh yes she missed the beautify of her home land and her family, but now in these strange lands she was experiencing so many beautiful and curious things.

As she began settling into the life at the L’Roze’s lands, she got to experience the shift from the beautifully colorful hues of autumn with the first cold and white snows. It was such a marvelous surprise and so weird for her. At first she just looked out form the safety of their abodes at the falling snowflakes, wondering how it was all a thing. How did it sometimes rained and other times snowed? Why was it cold? Why was it white!? It was with a childlike wonder and curiosity that she had ventured out when the snows settled, stomping her way through the snow, feeling the cold, wrapped tightly in her clothes. Looking around, she wondered if she could hide in the snow with her long snow white hair. She had heard some animals gain white coats in winter.

It all was truly a marvel and she spend many a daylight hour wandering the grounds even before it snowed. Get up, have breakfast, prepare and storm outside to play.. ahm… explore! And she had returned back after her adventures every time covered in snow, and flushed up from the cold and activity. Then she’d dry up and spend some time practicing her dancing skills before the night arrives and she settles in for the night with dinner and writing of her adventures in her journals. She even wrote a letter she was wondering how to send back home, seeing it was so far away, but it was for another day.

It was on those adventures she had found some curious things! Kosara liked curious things! One was these dried up grapes? They looked just so odd in this landscape right in that moment. She could swear they were pulsating too! She stared at them for a good while, before figuring she had NO idea what they were. Maybe the locals knew! They seemed to be the experts on grapes and maybe V too if it was important for wine making… In any case, the pale tiefling carefully pulled one of the grapes with a cloth, looking at it intently as she studied how it pulled from the branch. The scent wasn’t… pleasant and it made her scrunch her nose. Once the thing had been secured, she bundled it up carefully for later display. Wondering what this weird rotting, fermenting grape was and it’s sludge like juice.

The second thing on a grand list of interesting curios was… THE WALL. Kosara’s discovery of it was quite the coincidence actually and she was really curious about it actually. She was going to check it later, but a half buried wall… Who knew what secrets and adventurers were hidden there! Of course her inner child who grew up by listening adventurers telling stories of dungeons and dragons was flying with anticipation. Naturally she also well realized that it could be a tomb for somebody local, but… she was going to bring it up with Cecily and Lizbet and see if they knew about it… and the weird grape!

So here they were one week later, one week of adventures and generally being busy and not having much chance to catch up and gather up the party. Breakfast was over and everybody was present! That fact made Kosara a very happy woman! She was beaming wide grins to everybody.

“Finally the group’s back together and we aren’t scattering!” Kosara merrily exclaimed.” I found interesting things while pla… ahm while exploring that I was waiting to bring up when we had the chance!” She corrected herself and pulled up the bundled up decaying grape, still bundled up carefully and tightly.” I found these weird grapes that were still in the field and not cleared. Looked weird and seemed to pulsate. Smell terribly though. Fermented and rotting.” She said placing the bundle on the table before continuing.” I also stumbled upon a makeshift wall buried in the dirt. Think it’s there to block something, so I plan to check it out in detail later after asking Cecily and Liz if they know about it.”

The Event:

...the woman herself was shorter than Victoria expected, given her reputation, though in truth she was about the same height as the Half-Elf who sought her out. Annick was Human, appearing to be in her early fifties, with voluminous, steel-grey hair which hung past her shoulders. Eyes as wintry as the season regarded Victoria suspiciously, and this was after her front door slammed open to reveal her, carrying a worn but polished shortsword in hands like iron. Her exposed forearms hinted at strength and ability which outstripped her slender frame. "Is this an emergency?" she asked stonily, noting the sword at Victoria's waist and taking in other details that she didn't seem to prefer. "Or is it about to be an emergency?" She shifted to the side so that a younger woman of similar build behind her in the cottage, proper, to have a clear shot with a simple but effective crossbow. "Well?"

Before:

"Certainly, Master Chedgusah," replied Victoria in response to Baronfjord's request to join her in Southmoor. "I am traveling into town to entreat a local Healer to take me as a student. To be straightforward, I intend to do this by myself. When a little shopping and sightseeing is done, I shall take my leave of you and find my own way back." Two travelers on the road was safer than one, and the idea of bringing Morty along with her was probably not in the best interests of making a favorable impression with someone from whom she wanted a fairly huge favor. She figured that her Familiar would be more than acceptable. Maybe even a draw. So Victoria extended a single, maintaining tendril of necrotic energy through her bond with Morty and reinforced the animation on the dead, smoky husk, prompting it with continuing instruction to do as it had been, with one slight caveat - she relocated the beast to another, mostly out-of-the-way spot to stare dumbly from behind its burlap wrappings. With just a touch of sadistic humor, she wanted their assigned domestic servant to remember that yes, that was a creature summoned by magic considered forbidden by many, and yes, it was capable of moving. Under what circumstances, Victoria intended to remain vague.

There was another summons that the arcane Bard intended to utilize. Grand entrances were always, well, grand, and her new ritual magic which allowed her to create her own, phantasmal mount from the stuff of shadows and imagination. While she might make it look like almost anything within certain parameters, she had thusfar chosen the same form the past few times she brought it to her service, and stuck with it this time, as well. As if carved of pure white marble with mane, tail and stockings the color of blackest oil and eyes which reflected daylight with a purple hue, this majestic beast materialized and pranced in place very briefly. The long, trailing hair of its tail and mane, both, moved with the subtle slowness of a thing underwater, even as the rest of it continued at respectable pace. Bit, bridle, saddle, and bags materialized along with it, fastened upon the creature like a bespoke suit. Instantly, the Phantasmal Steed and Victoria were of one mind and one intent, acting in concert to ensure an optimal experience of travel. And speed - this creature was unmatched upon the land. But speed was not the winning factor here, as she was going with escort. Victoria would be very impressed if Baronfjord could keep up with them at a gallop.

The good news was that she was that, with her steed traveling at a more leisurely pace, Victoria was able to play a little music on their way into Southmoor. It wasn't all that far away; close enough that the duration of her summoning would not elapse, certainly. People from this town and surrounding hamlets regularly worked for the L'Roses, after all. And while this helped her to make that grand entrance that she wished to, it was not exactly her biggest concern. Firstly, and with more than a mote of performance, Victoria dismissed her Phantasmal Steed just before entering the market area. She did not linger long. Manners, in most all cultures, demanded the presentation of a gift upon first meetings.

Victoria had no idea of the tastes of this lady (her hopefully future mentor) whatsoever, having only rudimentary knowledge of the overview of the most public part of her history. The idea then was to get a fairly generic gift that could be taken as thoughtful under the right circumstances, and she found this in the way of an artisanal basket bearing winter plums that seemed to fit the bill. Just to round things out, she picked up a small batch of rustic honey cakes, which also made their way into the basket. Victoria reasoned that this would suffice nicely enough, when paired with her sterling ability to win friends and influence people.

Finding the dwelling of this lady, following the description given by Cecily and the quiet intonations of a few locals, wasn't amazingly difficult. A home with something like a clinic attached to the front, in and/or by a copse of trees. The "copse" wasn't quite a forested area, more like a wooded park, as large trees were not amazingly suited to partly wetland moors in great amounts. But it was a fine and cozy looking cottage with a covered stone porch, garden off to the side, and collection of non-native plants growing close to the structure that one might lean from a window and sample if necessary. Victoria smiled. This was exactly the kind of place she might think that a respected local healer might reside. She stepped deftly to the residence door and pulled on a bellcord, enjoying the pleasant tinkling sound of tiny bells within. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe this lady was as sweet as strawberry pie and just as comforting.

"Good day, Medician Floquet! My name is Victoria Belmont, and I have been very keen on meeting you."

After:

Victoria was cut off yet again. "No, Madame, I am not with the army, I promise. I really..." This had long past silly and had gone into truly aggravating. That godsforsaken crossbow was still leveled at her, and this lady hadn't twitched her hand in the least from a ready grip on her shortsword as the barrage continued. "No, I am not hurt, and I have no desire to be. No, I do not wish to visit hurt on anyone within many leagues around. Yes, I am obviously not from here. Ashhaven, to the north; it's ruled over by Khimn. Yes Madame, with the Paladins. I'm sorry. No, I don't want to remove anyone from this lovely place." This whole situation had better be worth it. Otherwise, she was just going to spend her time over the winter learning scrimshaw, or fishing, or something less dangerous than talking to this potentially crazy lady. Victoria took just a moment to flitter her attention to her familiar circling overhead to make sure there wasn't a surprise waiting, then guided her bird over to a nearby tree where it could keep a watch over her.

Yet, the swordpoint interrogation continued. "Raven skull brooch. Ruby Lady's coin in your hatband. Sword. You brought a sword to my home uninvited. You're a death merchant, if you're not from the army. Take your basket of cheap crap and get the hells off of my property before you need a Medician. You've got nothing I want." Annick stepped sideways back to the door, now within the doorway, waiting for Victoria's egress impatiently.

Victoria sighed heavily. This was not how things usually went for her. "Begging a moment more from you, Madame Floquet; I have these implements because I am a funerary violinist. Or was, by direct occupation. There are symbols of non-malevolent deities whose philosophies guide much of my own actions involving giving proper respect to the dead and the beliefs of their people. I have even performed funerary rites by myself, as such things were appropriate. I only wished to learn the art of medicine from you, at least in basic, that I may help myself and my associates."

"And you wish to pay for these services with ... what are those, plums and cake? You have a big opinion of yourself, even for an Elf."

She let the comment pass without the correction of Half-Elf. "No, Madame Floquet. Of course not. This was merely a polite gesture at first meeting. I am a True Bard, and have the gifts of my more arcane musical abilities. I also have a small amount of direct magical healing at call, which I shall make at your disposal should you need for an emergency. And! And, ah... in instances where life must be allowed to pass, I am knowledgeable in every custom regarding interment in these lands. The living and the dead, both, deserve to be treated with the utmost of respect, and I am uniquely capable of doing this for your town. I wish only to learn from your experience, Medician Floquet, even though I know you are not fond of how you came by it."

"And you know me so well, yes? So you know that my favorite honeycakes are flavored with cinnamon, and you brought a batch. If those aren't, then we're done right now and you can turn back around and carry your perky ass back the way you came. So what is it? It's down to the cakes."

Victoria broke off a small corner of one of the honeycakes in her basket and brought it to her lips. Gingerly, she popped it into her mouth and perked an eyebrow. Shock began to set in as she realized that NO, they did not taste of cinnamon in the slightest. Nevertheless, the Bard smiled. "Absolutely, Madame. I can tell straightaway. Lovely cinnamon." The smile continued, showing a breadth of porcelain white teeth which she was blatantly lying through. Victoria did not hide, nor did she advertise, the fact that she cast a quick Prestidigitation over the honeycakes, specifically to add to and/or alter the flavor of the sweet treats.

Naturally, Annick could see right through it. She allowed Victoria to step up closer to her; close enough to take a cake from the basket and give it a cautious bite. She stared into the Bard's face, thinking. Then she spoke. "That trick. You can do that with medicine?"

Victoria nodded her head to the affirmative. Was this an in?

"Uh huh. We're already getting winter ailments in. Medicine can be bitter, and I need to see the children taking it. I know there's something else you're not saying. We will get to that after a while. It's about to get busier here and I can use the extra hands. Come on in amd we'll talk." If Victoria was very lucky, this wasn't a trick.



"As it seems I have the next couple of days off, unless summoned. I would love to take a closer look at this wall you have found, Kosara," remarked Victoria. She hadn't quite taken a close look at the rotten berry that was offered, merely giving a bit of a glance before inquiring, "Pulsating? Is it bugs, do you think?" This was hardly Victoria's forte. It made sense in the moment, her not being witness to the items in question directly as it was discovered.

She had fallen into an agreement where four days out of seven saw her checking in with her new mentor, even if no work needed to be done. Maybe it had been an exercise in humility for a woman who was seen by many as prideful. Or maybe, like the older lady had said, she needed more hands with the upcoming winter. It did mean that she spent less time actually at the Vineyard than the others, having the equivalent to a day job while the rest of the party stuck close to home base. But she was back every afternoon and had three days to see to her own affairs. This day marked the first of those three.

So after a modest but satisfying breakfast, Victoria was quite ready to explore what interesting bits of lore and event that her associates found themselves a part of. So far, a hidden rock wall was the best option she'd heard this morning.