Despite the delay, Kathryn was able to make up some of the lost time by loading the brassieres on the wagons in bulk, and unloading them in bulk. The work was difficult, but Kathryn was well rested. Other than some sword practice earlier in the day Kat hasn't done much to physically strain her. Other than this being a long night now she was feeling great! Ready to face off the world! Not working in her heavy armor helped too. No matter how exposed that made her feel. After many groups of the furnace like contraptions were loaded up Kathryn began her track back to the vineyard itself to help with the placements. Wondering if maybe she could continue to move them in bulk so that those setting them up wouldn't have to carry them so far, and could focus more on lighting and fueling. And once the bulk were set up she could go back and get more braziers. Simple plan but seemed good enough!

Kosara having lit herself up to act as a beacon of where efforts were being focused Kathryn prepared to unload the wagon when a sharp pain crossed over her shoulder, and down her torso, and soon down her leg. Kathryn let out a soft sound that could be comparable to a soft but pained squeak as she seemed to flinch for a moment. Then with a deep exhale she slowly began to return to her normal height. Her breathing was strained for a moment before her body seemed to relax. The rune on her belt seemed to flicker and flair like lantern fuel that had suddenly been lit, and burned itself out. She didn't know how long it was, but it appeared the rune could only run for so long before it quit on her. And when she let it burn out like that, it fucking hurt. Like her whole body was attempting to contort as it tried to tear itself apart. Then she bent over and puked out the boiled wine she had just nursed with Victoria. She knew some of the workers were watching her, so with a smile on her face, she stood upright again and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. "No more drinking on the job for me. Let's wrap this up." She said in a cheerful tone, rushing over to the wagons before someone could ask her if she was okay. She needed to be strong. She couldn't afford to be weak. People were depending on her. She refused to let them down.

With a deep breath, and bracing herself for the rune to try and quit out on her if trying to start it again caused a repeat of the pain that just happened. The rune on her belt began to glow, sparks began to fly as the rune seemed to glow even brighter than the last time she activated the rune. Soon she returned to her maximum height again, nearly 14 feet tall and seemed ready to take on the world! Loading up the braziers in her arms, she walked a ways passed the ones being currently set up, and began laying out the mobile furnace like contraptions as close as possible to their spots, leaving them ready to set up. When Kathryn used up the braziers in her arms, she returned to the wagons as fast as she could to continue doing the manual moving of the braziers. Hopefully making better time than everyone else who could move them, and giving them more time to light them up and keep them fueled up. She hoped so much that she was doing enough to help. She also wondered how much time had passed. Was her timer about to go again? She wondered if she let the rune run until it burnt out again if it would hurt like that again, or worse... Or if it had a shorter time span since she just expended a use? Questions for another night. She had people depending on her.

Kathryn then heard Blackberry singing. She found herself listening, and wanting to sing along as they worked. She didn't know the words to this tune, but she hummed along, and kept the pace up. Bringing the braziers to their locations as fast as she could, and for a moment found herself ready for whatever came next. She did wonder if they had enough fuel to keep the fires going.

Weather: The snow remains blanketing the ground, though no more falls from the sky. Unfortunately for everyone outside of doors, the wind has begun to pick up. Certain gusts almost feel like a whip crack against exposed skin. Even for winter in this area, it is unseasonably frigid. To be short, it is cold.

Time: Night. An hour has passed, maybe two, maybe more at the beginning of this update. It's difficult to tell when conditions keep you rooted in the present. Time continues forward as the post progresses to the first light of dawn.

Ambience: No longer still nor quiet, wind whistles past one's ears in a manner most uncomfortable. Wagons creak and rumble along the ground while footsteps crunch snow under the action of (hopefully) careful steps. When the lulls of wind and wagon sounds match up with pauses of the too-few workers speaking, one can yet make out the crackle of multiple small fires burning in their braziers. The scent of grapeseed oil and other, coarser flammable goods catches one's nose only occasionally. The ambient light from the braziers mix with the clear moon overhead to provide enough light to work by, but not remotely enough to discern anything beyond the already worked-upon rows.




What began with uncertainty of action continued into rote repetition until what needed to be done became an exercise akin to muscle memory. Agriculture is a thing which takes years, maybe decades to master, but this task was straightforward enough. Not easy, of course, but straightforward. Gather equipment, set it up, start a fire. Repeat. Gather. Set. Fire. Repeat.

The more colorful methods of handling this, which the adventurers were demonstrating admirably, served to speed the process along in areas, but in the end, the sheer amount of space required to be worked upon turned the night into a respectable shift for a seasoned laborer. For it was not just one field, but the series of fields closest to the Estate House which bore the signature, frost marked, whitish-green Honigblume grapes, which took up the majority of the vines visible from both the Estate House and the Coach House. This was a task.

Baronfjord's song made it out and over the countryside. It was an interesting ditty that, while only a few of the people present knew of it, the rest picked up the chorus readily enough to add their voices to the sounds of the evening. Uplifting in its own way, transformed into a thing more resembling a song to keep cadence in labor. As time passed, there were occasional, sporadic refrains of the chorus which was picked up by others, resulting in shorter recitations of Baronfjord's motivational musical performance.

Despite delays caused by various factors in getting the supplies necessary from the structures to the fields, the combination of Kathryn's strength and the organization made possible by the party's additional wagons and beasts/spells of burden compensated for these, almost completely. Lost ground was still lost ground. Luckily, so long as the new plan of action involving distributing from the larger wagons into the smaller carts for easier use among the rows was in place, lost ground could be recovered in time.

Furthermore, the use of simple spellwork from Kosara and Victoria had a huge impact on getting the braziers lit quickly and seamlessly. Faster than they could be brought out, set down, and filled with fuel, one or the other of them could get them alight. The rows that either of them claimed for themselves was alight before anyone else's, and there was ample time to see to the unlit sections of those around them. Even the ones bearing torches couldn't quite get them going as quickly. There was one exception from an unlikely source, if anyone thought to check with her.

Lizbeth. She moved with no great speed, but was utterly tireless. While others took a few minutes here or there to warm their hands over a fire, she persisted with endurance beyond that which Kathryn had noticed coming from her during their combat training. And her braziers seemed to birth a decent flame almost as quickly as those of the Warlock or the Bard. She would look up every so often, her face seeming to be overly pale in the dim, flickering light of everyone's handiwork, dark circles around her eyes as if from fatigue, though she showed absolutely no sign of slowing. Lizbeth was a machine.

Cecily, however, was not. Despite being a youthful woman of her early middle years, recent times had seen her as more of an administrator or manager of the Estate, as opposed to a person committed to direct labor. One could tell that she knew what she was doing, as she acted with a practiced hand and was no stranger to this sort of work. This did not change the fact that she began to falter in the cold after a while. She slowed down, had to take short breaks more frequently than others more recently suited to manual labor. Madame L'Rose was not having an easy time of it. Still, she insisted upon continuing until one of the laborers, with as much tact as he could muster, insisted that she take a more substantial rest, "...just long enough to close your eyes a little, Madame L'Rose. We can take care of it from here." Reluctantly, she acquiesced.

She was not the only one showing the effects of exhausting labor in the middle of the night amid temperatures cold enough to damage cold-tolerant flora. Others were beginning to slow at about the halfway point of their efforts. Still, everyone pushed on as best they could, knowing what a lost winter crop would mean for not just the L'Roses, but for the greater economy in the area of Southmoor and villages beyond.

It was maybe another hour later that two things happened, and be it the whim of Tymora, Norebo, or some deity more benevolent, both of them were positive. Roused from what might have been a fitful slumber came the squat, broad form of a Dwarf with black facial tattoos, covered in fur-lined leathers and carrying a pot full of steaming liquid. The pot was massive; apparently too massive for this shorter fellow to maneuver comfortably without burning himself (or others), yet he somehow managed. It was Urmdrus the handydwarf, naturally, and the violently steaming pot had the distinct smell of mushrooms wafting from it. He shuffled off a carrying satchel containing a ladle and several cups, all of simple design and excellent craftsmanship.
"Fungus tea. Here to help. Move over; give me a torch."

The other bit of good news was heralded by the flapping of wings. Not immediately, considering the meaning of the expression "as the crow flies." In this instance, it was a Raven. Some time passed between the return of the Familiar and the tromp of boots coming up the way from the main road, bright lanterns at the fore. The party did not recognize any of these new faces with one exception - a woman of maybe twenty years with her mother's steel expression, who once aimed a loaded crossbow in Victoria's direction. "Mother couldn't join us tonight. She apologizes, and sends some volunteers. Where do you need us?"

While the reinforcements do not make for a full complement of laborers and many of them were not agriculture workers, they were desperately needed hands and willing to listen. The sense of a broader community took hold within the people of Avonshire, whether they be from Southmoor, residents of the Vineyard, or collected from the villages dotting the ways and streams around. It was not a perfect, tireless night, but following the morale boost of hot drinks and extra help, those upon the fields managed to get the job done just as the sky lightened to an expectant purple. Exclamations of gratitude rang out from the locals in weary voices as many departed for homes away from these fields and others made for quartering within.

Everyone was tired. Perhaps moreso than they had been for a long time. Bone weariness sapped strength as the weather sapped warmth from bodies, upright or otherwise. Depleted, or nearly so, makes for an apt descriptor.

As people make their mass exodus/grueling trek back home, calling faint farewells and promises of events of camaraderie, first light breaks over the horizon. It is a lovely, colorful start to dawn, accenting the now familiar hillsides in ways which may inspire poetry.

However...

There sit looming shapes upon the nearby hill, backlit by the rising sun. Five of them, humanoid, and unmoving; even against the bitter chill of the near merciless wind. They have remained easily far enough away as to not be detected by the revealing light of the fires, yet obvious of presence for the coming daylight, out in the open. Stoically stand the figures, four of them in posture of supplication or subservience to the fifth, whose height towers above the others like a tyrant, sculpted for this purpose precisely.

It seemed endless. Logically, there had to be an end, like the so-called "bottomless pits" that Victoria had sang stories about. Magic notwithstanding, every hole stopped someplace. And if this task out in frigid fields of frozen grapes in the middle of the night kept up for too much longer, she was going to be convinced that magic was involved here. That, or her personal failings came back to haunt her and her soul was claimed by one or another devil, meaning that this was her Hell and it wasn't going to end, period. What cunning devils they must be, to lock her into a situation where she would willingly work herself past exhaustion for the sake of other people. Truly devious.

On the one hand, Victoria didn't think that Hell would provide her with warming, Dwarven style mushroom tea. On the other hand, their Dragonborn was singing. So she wasn't convinced one way or the other yet. All she could do was keep up the numbing, repetitive tasks before her. Gather the braziers, set them, light them ablaze. Victoria used Prestidigitation a lot for this, as it was faster and more reliable than a flint and striker; likewise required no coaxing to get a blaze going. Also, a lot less encumbering than a lit torch. With her Morty delivering the necessary equipment to her on the regular, she was confidently, if not comfortably, making excellent progress.

The others seemed to be doing well, more or less, in their own ways. This was good. It they weren't in some devil-wrought afterlife, that meant that they would get done sooner than expected with their less than full staff of workers. At least they were making a difference, which meant that their efforts were not meaningless. Victoria's decision not to return to the Coach House for late night tea and a night of sleep, like she would have preferred to do, was objectively the correct one. They were able to affect the situation in a tangible way. If it wasn't this way, she reasoned, then there wouldn't have really been a point to it all. But even this realization was made quite moot when reinforcements arrived.

Victoria's Raven flapped into view just inside of the limits of the braziers' dim light, coming to perch near to one of the fires. Apparently, spirits-made-flesh could get cold and had preferences of comfort. Not that Victoria blamed the gallant black bird as she would rather be elsewhere, herself. She was also cold. She was also tired. But she was smart enough to realize that her Familiar's presence meant that the message was delivered. Curiously, there was a message attached to its leg addressed to her, stating,

"I never said you were my favorite. The raven will return when we are on our way. I have work I cannot leave. Sending Annabelle to find others."

Sure enough, they did arrive.

It seemed another eternity later that the job was done, or done enough for the evening. There would obviously have to be upkeep, but it was probable that the existing staff would be able to handle that now that the brunt of the work was done. But that last part really mattered to the Bard - the work was done. Victoria was beyond tired, cold to the bone, and thoroughly done with everything involving these fields or even remaining awake. Morale, such as it was with her, was not exactly brimming. After politely bidding the extra workers a good morning (as it was just about to be morning) and offering her sincere thanks, she waited until they were well underway to share, "I am glad that we were able to accomplish this - proud of us all, even. We did good work for great people, and I thank the L'Roses for the opportunity to do just that. But if it pleases my hosts and associates? I would prefer to eat something hot and sleep for the next three or so days. Unless there is something more pressing that demands my attention - Messieurs, Mademoiselles, I will take my leave of you. Come along, Morty." The last part was not necessary, but served to provide a sense of finality. And in truth, she really did hope there wasn't anything remaining to handle. It had been a long day, a long night, and she was clearly, plainly tired. Victoria gave a glance in the direction of the barely rising sun, musing, "Hmm. It is already tomorrow."

BlackBerry's teeth chattered madly despite his best efforts and Master Urmdrus' tea. While thankfully his toes had stopped hurting, this was worryingly because couldn't feel them anymore. He stomped the ground several more times just to be certain and was rewarded with only the dull sting on each impact. BlackBerry closed his tired eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. Standing beside Old Boy he took a deep breath in of the icy air, stinging his nostrils, and then let it all out again in a long cloud of fog. It had been a very long night. If Jon so much as breathed with a hint of a complaint at him, BlackBerry was going to start biting. The first rays of morning sunshine struggling to climb over the horizon brought him a sense.

He would need to find some warmth soon, and a gentle huff from Old Boy suggested he wasn't the only one. Taking the reins in hand, he urged the tired mule on towards the Estate House were the promise of a kind word and a hot drink awaited.

The pair walked with a slow trudge of the very tired and only half aware of the frosty ground crunching steadily beneath their footsteps. He could see in the fields on either side also making their way back to the Estate House, like a flock of birds converging upon their nests, now that the work was done. He let out a sigh mixed equal parts pride at a job well done, and desperation for a long sleep and a hot bath.

He occasionally caught sight of Lizbeth dashing across the fields in the same manner of Kosara and Victoria tirelessly lighting fires and placing braziers. It was surprising how much energy the young squire in training had. He made a mental note to make sure she got some rest as well. No doubt at some point the dear would hit her limit and it was going to hurt.

Nearing the Estate house, he caught sight of something in the corner of his eye. He stopped and turned to look towards the east where a hill stood holding the rising sun atop its crest, and the silhouettes of five individuals. Confused, he shielded his eyes and squinted up at the figures in a fruitless attempt to pick out any details from them. Ever looking to help someone in need, he let go of the reins for a moment to wave up at the figures.

"Hello there!" He called as loud as he could hoping they would hear him across the fields. "Are you lost?...Hello?" BlackBerry stopped waving. The figures weren't moving. Even if they hadn't heard him he would have expected some movement. "Strange." He mused to Old Boy. The mule simply flicked an ear.

He reclaimed the reigns and moved on once again towards the Estate House to find Victoria, Morty, and a few others standing around just before it. He drew Old Boy to a stop and gave a friendly wave to them all.

In the classic way of someone summoning the last of their energy from the dregs of their reserves, BlackBerry took a deep breath in and smiled tiredly to everyone gather. "Ah! Well good morning everyone! Well would you look at that, we all survived and not a grape lost I dare say. See there, just as I told Madame L'Rose; the fields are warm as anything as I said they would, and in good time too." The energy of the message was somewhat lost under the frantic chattering of his teeth. "Could I be a bother and ask someone to take care of Old Boy for a spell? Perhaps take the thing back to the Coach House even. I spotted some people up on the hill just over there, and planned to go investigate. To Make sure none of the villagers had lost their way or become turned around in the dark." He threw his thumb over his shoulder back towards the hill.

Under the fog of tiredness in both body and mind, a little red flag appeared. He head turned back towards the hill, towards the figures in their strange position, four bowing to the fifth standing proud amongst them. They still hadn't moved.

With a frown, BlackBerry asked. "Am I right in thinking that there were no scarecrows or such like in that direction yesterday?" He squinted again at the figures. "I am quite unable to tell from this distance."

The work was surprisingly grueling and even Kosara’s hyperactive tendencies and seemingly boundless energy at time was being affected by the circumstances of their current situation, for one the biting cold was seeping through clothing and chilling her down even as they moved around braziers and fires. It was not like playing out during the day in the snow. Admittedly there were cases where she had felt colder and more freezing over the passing weeks, but those were usually remedied by hanging by fireplaces inside and changing clothes. Here out in the darkness where the temperatures were dropping so low and the constant chill? Yeah it was certainly different and more severe.

Work only got harder once the Unseen Servants vanished. After her magical helpers vanished, work certainly did slow down with her some, but nothing could be done. Kosara couldn’t take a break just to recover the magical energies properly. So she just worked as hard as she could despite that. At least her glowing clothing remained along with her ability to set the braziers alight instantly. That was certainly a skill that was proving quite effective! Prestidigitation was a very useful general toll! In any case since she could maintain a number of effects at one, her glowing clothing didn’t dim for a moment.

Eventually as the night progressed, their dwarven craftsman friend joined them along with hot tea! Glorious! What was even more glorious was the addition of people who arrived to help. From there the work continued ever so hard and tiring throughout the night, all the way to the point the first rays of sunlight showed across the horizon and the skies started getting colored in the varying hues as the light was replacing the darkness of the night. They had more or less done it and Kosara couldn’t help, but let out a happy sigh as she stretched a bit, feeling the popping. She felt like taking a nap, if she was to be honest… that or getting into a barrel with hot water to get the cold out of her body. That might have been a better thing to do…. A barrel or a bathtub really. Either worked, ideally without a wild Lizbeth this time around. Let it be said that Kosara could indeed learn.

She was about to start making good on V’s suggestions of rest and sleep by heading back now that the work was done finally, when Berry raised a rather curious point as he had pointed out something in the hills in the distance. Well there was certainly something there… people… maybe? Or was it something else? Quite unmoving there and there was something weird going on with their arrangement.” I don’t think so?” Kosara replied with a frown as she stared in the distance. The paranoid side of her mind that had kept quite for a little while now reared it’s pretty white head to suggest something was up and this time Kosara did agree that this begged for investigation.” I will go check it out.” She said and began moving in the direction of the hill with the figures there, keeping careful attention on them in case there would be any developments while she was approaching.

“I really hope this isn’t another wererat situation… or tree goblins...” She mumbled as she stomped her way through the snowy fields in the direction of the hill. What was with the weird situations and their inability to pick better times to arise? Seriosuly, couldn’t this have waited until after they were well rested? Then again, adventure waited for no one, she surmised. Then by that logic this was a proper adventure happening. With that brief train of thought to make herself happy, she did a 180 mental gymnastic and concluded this was possibly a good thing and regained some energy in her gait. If this wasn’t anything bad, then great! It meant nothing bad was going on, if it was something bad? Then also great! Why would it be great? Simple, it meant they found out now and weren’t completely off guard!