[center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center][table][row][/row][row][cell]
[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] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Location:[/b][/i][/color] Rose River Vineyard, Southmoor, and parts around
[color=9932cc][i][b]Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Bonus Action:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[color=9932cc][i][b]Reaction:[/b][/i][/color] N/A
[/cell][cell]
[right][img]https://i.ibb.co/k55RrWV/Victoria-Alt-4-2.png[/img][/right]
[/cell][/row][/table][center]━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━[/center]

	The next three weeks were eventful. It might not have looked this way from an outside point of view, but the steadfast scheduling and rigorous study to which Victoria committed herself seemed uncharacteristic to those who didn't know her very well. As odd as it might have been to see a Bard - an actual Bard and not merely a shiny, otherwise employed musician - put herself to both arcane and medical study in ways that ordinarily only an obsessed Wizard might, this was a dual pursuit of knowledge and power. Those were things which interested Victoria greatly. She often mused that not too long before, she was dead set on making it to the coast and taking a boat back up to her homeland. But ever since she got that letter and decided to divert her attention away from her own issues by answering it, things had gotten interesting. There was a full education's worth of magic and skills to be found in this rather standard-looking farm country. Power. Knowledge. Victoria was on the cusp of a breakthrough that she otherwise would have missed. She could feel it on the very edge of her understanding. 

	The very next day after the long night and seemingly equally long morning, after she finally got some sleep, Victoria rose with a start. She had kept one of the long knives that she found on the undead corpses with the intent on looking them over with a fresh mind the next day. And keeping it, of course, as it looked utilitarian as well as expensive. It would fit nicely in her personal collection right next to the wire-wrapped dagger she was gifted from her father, on the outset of her adventuring career. The wavy pattern of the blade's metal, the brassy-gold floral decorations from its minimalist guard up through the bottom fifth of the blade, the amazing counterbalance of the black jade hilt with knob pommel, and thickened, "T" shaped spine gave her clues already when viewed with fatigue. Now that she was awake and armed with the knowledge provided by Kathryn, [i]Yasmin Steel[/i], she could view this from proper historical context. To whomever was present to listen when she came downstairs, she passed along, [color=9932cc]"I remember this now. Yasmin Steel, made famous from the master smiths of Damuscara, [i]The Jasmine City[/i]. It is an older pronunciation of the flower's name. This... Wow. Stories say that every blade made from this was a masterwork, as it could only be formed by a master. Human craftsmanship. Legends also say it has qualities in common with cold iron."[/color] A thought suddenly struck her, like a dousing of cold water. [color=9932cc]"If this was a gift from an adversary, then it must not be threatened that we have it."[/color] 

	She left this sobering thought alone and focused on something else. The excessive amount of silk cloth that was tightly wrapped around the bodies. Black, white, quite strong. Flawless, even. The looked at the pattern of the stitching; black on black, white on white. It seemed to possess a sort of ethereal, not-quite-describable quality. Victoria reached into the breadth of her knowledge on Arcana, absolutely certain that she knew something about this. It rang a bell, so to say, even if that bell was faint and far off. She ran to her books, skimming through pages and giving the occasional mumble, until the found the clue which pulled it from her distant memory. [color=9932cc]"The silk. The shrouds that wrapped the diplomats' corpses - this wasn't known in the time period of the early Necromantic Wars, but if these are originals, then they have been soaking in necrotic energy so thoroughly that they are capable of taking enchantment immediately."[/color] Victoria gave an uneasy back and forth shift of her head, playing out how she might continue to vocalize the thought. [color=9932cc]"...so long as it's Necromancy. And you don't mind having used burial shrouds close to your skin. And there is a small chance of side effects. But this was a fairly recent addition to magical lore that the earlier practitioners shouldn't have been aware of. Anyway, this frightfully demands more research."[/color] Oh, but she had her eyes on one of the sheets of black silk now. Not that Victoria could do a lot with it right then, but it was an investment of time and opportunity.

	The next week marched to the merry tune of near rigid scheduling for Victoria. She moved about a lot and ate little, surviving mainly on tea, wine (the occasional brandy), and whatever was already prepared and at the extreme ready. If she wasn't at the Healer's place in Southmoor, chances were even that she has her face buried in a book, copying it word for word, line for line, tracing the images therein to make as perfect a copy as she could. Victoria had already reproduced one of them and has moved on, laboriously putting quill to ink, quill to paper, and back again. In separate writings, she listed personal annotations and references, even creating bookmarks to organize the new writings. She learned the appropriate, official terms for various internal bits of anatomy as well as procedures, tools, medicines. Most of this involved trauma of some kind, like one would have to deal with in a battlefield scenario. Some dealt with illness, some with complications which faced people in similar environments. It was grueling to witness, even inspiring a little pity. Her sleep, still less fitful than she might have liked, came in shorter bursts and arrived on occasions that she might have preferred it did not. Often she was found asleep at a table, shiny black quill still in hand and face smooshed awkwardly upon the wooden surface in front of her. 

	Every so often, maybe once every two or three days, Victoria shook herself off and got a little exercise. A brisk walk, a spontaneous dance, an hour of playing her violin in different, sometimes quirky places. Watchtower, balconies, out in a barren field, maybe underneath that big tree on the hill. It always ceased with her getting back to her studies while at the Vineyard. 

	Back in Southmoor, it was much the same. Annick Floquet was a bit of a taskmaster as far as her charges were concerned, and Victoria found herself working alongside her daughter a lot of the time. This usually meant handling menial tasks while continually answering questions put to her by the Madame of the house, receiving reprimand or additional work were she to get a question wrong. Another week passed. Another book copied, organized, referenced. Annick was getting her personal library skillfully backed-up by what amounted to indentured seritude, but Victoria was paid off by the experiences given when the older woman had to perform a mundane act of healing or a surgical procedure. The Bard's ability to heal at a word came in handy on the few occasions that it was absolutely necessary to ensure survival, or if little could be done except recommend time to for the flesh to knit. By the time the fifth book was copied, organized, referenced, and Victoria was allowed to perform minor procedures on her own, Annick came to speak with her. [color=darkgray][b]"You have not been performing especially grand, Miss Belmont. This is not a trade for which you have amazing aptitude."[/b][/color] Victoria waited for the inevitable continuation designed to dash her spirits, or to be sent away. Instead, [color=darkgray][b]"It makes your dedication to learning this craft quite respectable. You have your own reasons you're not telling me. But as I said before, I don't think you're [i]evil[/i]. Anyway, before you quit on me, you needed to know why I'm making you copy my books."[/b][/color] Victoria was all ears. [color=darkgray][b]"I obviously don't need them. But if you actually follow through, you will. You are penning your own medical library. Forcing yourself to transcribe everything by hand is the best way to commit the knowledge to memory. And in those tasks, you are doing fine work."[/b][/color]

	The rest of the day passed in silence from all of them. They knew the jobs to do, and they did them. Victoria spent most of her time cleaning and sharpening medical utensils, until dusk started to approach. She respectfully addressed her mentor, [color=9932cc]"Madame Floquet? If I may ask a favor of you?"[/color] The arched eyebrow of the elder Medician prompted the question onward, [color=9932cc]"I travel with a Lady Kathryn of Arcanaple. She has expressed interest in your experience in the last of the Wars. I know your hesitance is well founded, and you deserve your privacy, but I did promise that I would ask. She is ...well, I would imagine curious about the history involved, and some tales of your exploits defending the Realms. We are all trying to expand our knowledge for... well, we have reasons. Would you be willing to meet with her?"[/color] 

	Annick's thoughts drifted back to the necrotic grapes and feelings of desecrated ground. It evoked her own memories. [color=darkgray][b]"I might have my own questions. Sure. I'll meet with her tomorrow, just to see if I want to talk to her at all. I'm promising nothing."[/b][/color]

	The next day, Victoria forwent summoning her Phantasmal Steed so that she and Kathryn could walk down to the town together. The Bard gave a few of her insights on speaking with the taciturn, oft ill-tempered woman, but tried not to overload. She would talk, or she would not. As Kathryn bore no trappings of death, nor the dead, nor much in the way of any overt magical anything, she figured that the woman wouldn't meet them at the point of a sword with her daughter aiming a crossbow at distance this time. [color=9932cc]"I should say, Daughter of Arcanaple, this woman cares not for titles unless one of those titles can directly affect her. She is not easily impressed, and does not brook flattery. She is very direct. I am sure that the two of you shall get along famously. But more than this, you are a woman who is genuine and easily likeable. I stake myself on your success. You have got this."[/color] Truly, it was a [i]Bardically Inspiring[/i] speech. 

	When they arrived, Victoria silently gave Kathryn a reassuring pat on her shoulder (which she had to raise her hand way up to accomplish) and a friendly wink. She then disappeared into the Medician's residence and set to organizing for the day's labors. 

	Following the harvest and extinguishing of fires within the Vineyard, Victoria was pleased to note the presence of Cecily, come to pay a visit. The quick arrival of their tasting day, a day which had been mentioned at the brunch a few weeks ago, perked up her spirits. Victoria was also quite glad it wasn't that day immediately, as she did need to get in some real rest beforehand and, if possible, find someone to invite. Polite greetings and responses to the positive were given, as this was not an event she wanted to miss. [color=9932cc]"Absolutely! Yes of course. Formal dress affair? Or shall we come as our casual selves? I am amazingly satisfied with either. Oh, perhaps I should just surprise."[/color] A beaming smile came from the pretty Half-Elf. In the back of her mind, she listed off that Morty was probably not going to be welcome as her "plus one", though she might sneak in her Raven unannounced. Either way, it was bound to be a pleasant night overall. Now who to bring...