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[h2][color=darkorchid][i][b]Victoria Belmont[/b][/i][/color][/h2][i][b][color=9932cc]Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5[/color][/b][/i]
[color=9932cc][i][b]HP:[/b][/i][/color] 33 / 33	[color=9932cc][i][b]Armor Class:[/b][/i][/color] 16	[color=9932cc][i][b]Conditions:[/b][/i][/color] Exhaustion (1) 
[color=9932cc][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Coach House
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color]  [color=dimgray][i]Familiar[/i][/color] stuff, [color=black][b]Morty[/b][/color]
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
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[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/k55RrWV/Victoria-Alt-4-2.png[/img][/right]
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	The translations began as a massively confusing undertaking. Unlike Victoria's immediately successful attempts every other time she used this ritual, the results were initially meaningless. After assistance from Lizbeth, progress was made. It was faster than anyone going into the Abyssal language blind, but still seemed a ponderous process to her. Moreover, she didn't understand why the spell didn't just give her the literal meaning of the words presented, regardless of what language was being communicated in whatever script. It was a stroke of luck that Lizbeth had returned here instead of going back to the Estate House. Hopefully, her confusion and difficulty with the spell was just because she was tired. And she [i]was[/i] tired, make no mistake. 

	Fatigue notwithstanding, things kept escalating. In terms of pressing interest, anyway. The fast pace and long hours in the cold were (hopefully) over, and with it the hot, coursing blood of one committing to action. As a result, Victoria's stamina was ebbing away. Already her eyelids felt heavy and the strength in her limbs, a thing for which she was not especially known, waned considerably. She also felt a touch absent-minded, having focused on the message to the exclusion of everything else, [i]including the creature comforts the voiced earlier, or even building up the hearth fire.[/i] Now that she was done, it occurred to her that she was still cold. The pashmina she had acquired for herself was still over her head, covering her slightly elongated, pointy ears which were still far from the level of warmth she desired. But that was a failing of hers, taking to things which interested her almost obsessively to the exclusion of a generally wiser course of action. 

	After it was finally done, she reviewed it as written in translated Common. [color=9932cc]"Whomever penned this certainly has a high opinion of themself."[/color] In hindsight, the fact that the pashmina she had draped over herself for additional warmth was not specifically stolen goods (even if she meant it to be lightly insulting as an aside) gave her a grain of relief. Then Victoria began to wonder what else might be present. If the original writer of this message was going to flaunt their wealth by doling out shiny things as an opening salvo for some negotiation to make themselves feel powerful, then she wasn't going to be so prideful as to refuse. Especially with its lack of reciprocity necessary in writing. Curiosity then befell the young Half-Elf; she began to wonder what else might be upon their well-dressed emissaries. 

	Then she looked again at the words written plainly in the Common language of the realm, especially what she expected was the signature. Her spell, [i]Comprehend Languages[/i], was still active - meaning that she was able to understand the literal meaning of the words on the page. [i]Farid al Ramil Sabaj al Hazred[/i], or to hear her speak it aloud, [color=9932cc]"Unique One of the Forbidden Obsidian Sands."[/color] It was actually a little comical. [color=9932cc]"It's a male name. There's no title, either. I should think someone of this obvious self-importance would have left an honorific of some kind. Just to leave an impression, I would have."[/color] She mused, [color=9932cc]"Farid. I wonder if Kosara knows anything. This is outside of my experience, I am afraid."[/color] She spoke to Lizbeth in a calming voice, as best she might in that moment. The kid didn't seem to be in the best of morale. [color=9932cc]"Maybe we should find and ask her?"[/color]

	Baronfjord's entrance, and the shattering sound muffled by the walls, got Victoria's attention. Though she was most satisfied with the Monk stoking up the fire. It even gave her an idea. [color=9932cc]"I shall get out my set and make some tea for us all. That sounds like exactly what we need right now. That and some rest."[/color] The last part might have been true, but it was easier said than done in that moment. [color=9932cc]"Though I am curious, myself, where [i]did[/i] you pick up Abyssal?"[/color] This inquiry made to follow up Baronfjord's, to also repeat her astonished question from earlier, when they began translating the letter. It was very curious indeed that a girl from a rural province whose locals mainly spoke the Common trade language (Modern Human, for their enduring credit) and Halfling, could speak a generally frowned-upon and difficult tongue to master. Where could she have possibly learned it out here?