[IC] Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Weather: Partly cloudy, cold. Winds stir the grass and pushed-over grain stalks.

Time: Afternoon, still. The battle didn't take a whole lot of time, though the time dilation of combat may make it seem like longer.

Ambience: Two of the wagons stood facing back the way they had entered the area, manned by Mosswater & Co. and the L'Roses, respectively. The party's wagon remains as it was. Highlighted against the side of the hill are the curiously calm(ish) beasts of burden who were still attached to the wagons. There was a bit of nervous movement, but nothing that gave extreme concern of a runaway wagon. The field itself lay slightly more trampled than before, but now littered with the forms of three dead Ankhegs. The dead stillness returned to the land, punctuated by the odd, chilling wind.

*****

Victory!

Barbal and Tarace broke the shocked silence with approving applause, though admittedly started by Tarace, who was also the more enthusiastic of the two. The gruffer Barbal climbed down from his place at the reins and moved a little closer to the fence, most likely to get a better look at the aftermath. "Good show; good show indeed!" proclaimed Tarace, continuing, "That was excellently done!"

In contrast, Barbal Mosswater gave a rather monotone piece of advice, "Might've used turpentine. Mmm, pine. Messes with their heads some." He gave an accepting nod, relenting in a small way, "Fine sight, though. I shall tell Monsieur Laurent the tale in full. Fine sight, yes."

The L'Rose wagon remained quiet to begin with. Cecily stared over her young niece, apparently examining her to make sure she was truly alright. A shocked expression had her features just as much as concern for the girl; parental even if she was not her actual child. Oddly, Lizbeth's expression appeared strangely neutral. Her face showed an almost colorless pallor with darker notes beneath her eyes as if she hadn't slept well in days, but otherwise she appeared unharmed. Slowly, her color returned and she found within herself the wherewithal to speak. Cheerfully, even. "That was amazing! With the hammer, and the big arms, and that magic! And that one that just fell over after she sang at it! Wow, that's just... You people really are heroes!"

This was enough to break Cecily from her immediate worry, who added a little calmer, "Oh, and did you just see how Mademoiselle Kosara tried to ride it like an unbroken horse? Would you like to do that, Lizbeth? Ride an Ankheg into town and scare our vendors?"

The answer was an immediate, childlike, "Ew. No, Ceecee. But it looked kind of fun."

The Ankhegs that were taken down with physical damage gave the occasional twitch, slowing to lazy, inelegant motions over a couple of minutes before settling into utter stillness. The one which saw its end by psychic and necrotic damage remained fully inert, as if the formerly vital nervous system simply switched itself off, even to involuntary pulses.

[rivaan]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kosara Tiefling, Warlock (Celestial), Level 04, Barbarian, Level 01 HP: 30/ 34 Armor Class: 12(15 Mage Armor) Conditions: covered in bug goop Location: Wheat field(literal) of battle Action: Investigation-FAILL!! Bonus Action: N/a Reaction: N/a

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Battle, death, glory… heroism(?)… and riding giant bugs! Kosara’s rather fun and wild time at wrangling critters was pulled a bit short when her unwilling mount was put into the unfortunate mercies of the rest of her party. The crunches of shattered chitin was like music to hear ears especially after it earned her original ire at the onset of hostilities. All things considered though as (totally not a giant) Kathryn delivered her finishing blows, the sheer impact and the reaction from the Ankheg caused the pale tiefling to loose her footing as she slipped on it’s chitin. She tumbled off it’s carcass as it fell down, falling right next to it with a strong almost childish yelp, followed by the distinct splatting sound of the goop that went everywhere including on top of the white tiefling, covering her in bug guts and very neatly pulling her out of her rather wild case of barbarian rage that had overtaken her a while back. She blinked as she pulled herself up from the puddle of bug goop(blood?) on the ground and wiped her face and mostly her eyes off the stuff.

She then burst out in happy melodous almost childish giggle that quickly descended into a laughter as she swung her arms around, sending bits of monster goop everywhere.” TADADATAAA VICTORY!” She proclaimed striking a pose. She was grinning almost from ear to ear.” Also… DINNER SECURED!” She proclaimed and pointed at the ankhegs.” Quick, we gotta collect parts of them. I’m sure they will taste great once prepared right! They appear almost the same as the scorpions we cook back home and those are great!” She very seriously stated and point at the ankheg. She then proceeded to try to pry bits of the chitin to reveal the underneaths and see if there’s better part to cut off, but midpoint to doing so, her head snapped up to the wagons, studying something for a moment.(investigation)

“Anybody saw what scared this thing from approaching the wagons? It had barely gotten to the fence when it got terrified and doubled back down.” She innocently asked, before resuming her chop choping at the ankheg.” Also… anyone know which are the best parts of this things to cook? You live around these parts right? You probably know it better than me cause despite the meat looking similar to a scorpion it’s not shaped the same…” And she gleefully resumed her attempts to pry the meat out of the chitin. They ahd 3 samples to pick from, she could use this one to study it, she supposed... unless the others decided to help her.

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Laurent Farmland Action: Casting Healing Word, Skills (Nature, Survival) Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

As the last Ankheg fell, Victoria cast her gaze back around the farmer's field-turned-battleground to make sure there wasn't another one (or two) approaching their location. Of course, from what little she knew about Ankhegs they would rather snatch one up from underneath the ground rather than approach in the open. Then a sobering thought hit her - from what little she knew about Ankhegs, they shouldn't be active right now. They should be sleeping off the colder weather and reemerge ravenous for fresh meat with the coming of springtime.

The revelation was concerning, as it made Victoria's mind go through a waterfall of possible cause-and-effect scenarios. But in the end, everything was just a jumble of maybes and half-invented conjecture. The more important issue of the moment was that streak of acid that seared the skin of her arm from thirty feet (thirty godsforsaken feet) away. A few years ago this would have had her rolling on the ground in agony, unable to do anything through the blinding pain. But she had been through much since then, and this was mostly an annoyance. Lucky for Victoria, she had a quick way to fix it. She allowed her mind to focus on the flow of the world around her, isolating a string of the Weave of arcane energy. She began to hum softly with it, changing the pitch slightly to harmonize with it, bringing about the single syllable effect of magic with reversed the damage on her flesh. When her skin finished knitting, the Bard kept the note going out of the sheer joy of doing so, and strode in the direction of her one and only kill.

Harvesting the Ankheg's carapace was her goal now. Absently, she drew her dagger - a favorite piece of sharpened steel of hers which had been with her since the beginning of her adventuring career; in and of itself without intrinsic value past its reliable craftsmanship but quite serviceable at a tavern table, a work area, or a closeup fight in equal amounts - and approached the recently dead creature. Its corpse, or the parts of it she wanted, was almost fully intact. She could work with this. Just before she committed herself to the task, she turned around to the others who were injured in the fight, inquiring, "Let me know if any of you require supplemental healing. I'm no medician, but I have minor ability to knit wounds and a little more magical presence left to potentially do so." It was probably lucky that they had Kosara on the team for this purpose; her ability to heal far outpaced Victoria's own.

When the steel first parted chitin from more fleshy binding within the Ankheg, Victoria was amazed at how readily it came apart, like the differing densities of once-living material gave a sort of channel to pass the blade through. There were a few things she wished to procure from this creature. One of them, for the rest of the party if nothing else, was the meat. But first, to preserve this meat properly, she had to remove the larger parts of the carapace intact. But before that, there was a little matter of the...

"Gods damn it all!" hissed Victoria. She had opened a slice in the creature's belly where the carapace was weaker and inserted her dagger farther than she had initially intended. The result was a split severance from which acrid ichor spilled in one moderately proportioned gush. The liquid connected with the trampled chaff upon upturned soil with a hiss, and a small amount of black smoke. It could not be saved, regrettably. But the rest of it was safe and it was now an easier harvest.

Before securing the larger sections of good meat from the beast, Victoria saw to its carapace. She was careful to remove the larger and tougher sections intact and split along seams, as it were, to keep any amount of reworking minimal. The segmented, overlapping pieces were given careful attention, with connective tissues sliced through with slow deliberation. Victoria piled like with like and, with a level of outdoorsy organization that might have been surprising from a self-proclaimed cosmopolitan socialite, set to harvesting a respectable amount of chitin from the downed creature. She was, as it turned out, more cleanly successful at this endeavor than retrieving the relatively suppler meat underneath. It looked quite like she had done this exact task before.

Kosara's query as to the nature of the Ankheg's sudden bout of fear left Victoria puzzled. "That wasn't one of your new tricks, Kosara, dear?" asked Victoria, wiping her forehead with the back of her sleeve. She spared a glance back at the L'Rose wagon wagon and gave its occupants a warm, meaningful smile. To the best of Victoria's initial ability to reason, she had figured that the sparky Tiefling had prevented the monster's attack against their hosts with some technique or magic unknown to her. The fact that Kosara was not the source of this reaction gave Victoria a sense of curiosity. Not enough to cease her labors, however.

Instead, the Bard focused her thoughts on her necromatic beast of burden, Morty. Perhaps she might need its assistance, and that of her errand cart, before this day was out. Her smoky, porcine companion reacted to the mental summons, coming to observable animation for its mistress. Victoria checked the position of the sun in the sky, then looked back to Cecily and Lizbeth. She was hoping to gauge any level of impatience they might have with this detour, as to intuit any impact it would have on getting to the Vineyard in a timely manner. In the end, no one raised a fuss so she just kept working.

As she worked, the vibrant Half-Elf regarded the long dagger in her hand. "Always use your own blade," was the popular, roguish maxim that Victoria's father had taught her, and were indeed the very words repeated when the man gifted her this item. Even if it was a little morbid (considering his former occupation), he had said that one always needed a good knife for any number of occasions and this particular one was good for every single one of them. The look in his eyes was darkly nostalgic and reminded Victoria of the stories told about her family prior to her birth. Some were more flattering than others.

[Arty Fox]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), Level 05 HP: 40 / 40 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: N/A Location: Field Action: Perception (8) Bonus Action: General Disgust. Reaction: Holding down his lunch. Ki: 2/5

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

BlackBerry shook his head vigorously, Lady Kathryns final blow to the creature had sent its skull sailing over his head and trailing a marvellous arc of viscera and sinew across the sky and all over him. With the immediate threat removed he could take a moment to try and wipe as much of the creature guts off his face as his could before the stinging sensation became any worse. The fiery limbs unravelled from around him and lowered but still remained. Through watery eyes he gave the area a quick survey around but thankfully couldn’t see any more of the creatures and nothing seemed to be rising up from the ground in search of vengeance.

“I agree, Lady Kathryn. A further investigation may be in order.” He gave his sword a sharp flick to remove the worst of the blood(?) from it, but he would have to clean it properly before putting it back into its sheathe. “But perhaps we can safely assume the beasts present have been dispatched most efficiently.”

In a moment annoyance he clicked his teeth at the groups audience at that they had decided to wait around gawking instead of moving at least a little bit away from the fight. Well it does no harm after all, he reasoned, the battle was over within a few moments and no one was hurt. He indulged their onlookers with a final flourish of the sword and a low bow, the ethereal limbs rising behind him like plumes of fire.

Coming back up he called over to the wagons. “One hopes the show was to your liking, good fellows, but I must ask your forgiveness if an encore is what you des-” BlackBerry heard Kosara talking between the sounds of wet thudding. “what are you doing?”

There was an almost audible crack in the air from the speed of BlackBerry’s head turning to see Kosarra happily chopping away at one of the creatures, gleefully wondering how they were to cook their latest kill. BlackBerry grimaced and stuck out his tongue at the very thought of eating the creatures, and Kosara home suddenly seemed a little bit less desireable to visit. Then to his horror, but not surprise, Victoria also approached the corpse and began taking her own samples.

“No, no. I am quite unharmed. Thank you.” He replied weakly to Victoria's offer.

His stomach did a small somersault at the sight of the creature being expertly carved apart beneath the gentle touch of Victorias blade, snipping and slicing away at the stringy connective tissues between its armour plates as if cutting away the fat from a slice bacon. Broken bones, viscous dog attacks, gaping wounds, patchwork goliaths, and blood soaked torture rooms, all absurdly sat well below his apparent limit of giant bugs being cut apart for food. BlackBerry turned and walked a few steps away from the sight of it all while silently fighting his lunch from making a reappearance.

“You did keep it well occupied, Kosara. If I were it, I would have attempted to flee as well.” BlackBerry did not turn around but spoke over his shoulder. His eyes resolutely fixed in the direction of the wagons and tried hard not to listen to the sounds of flesh being torn. “Had there been another threat to the creatures it is not there now.” He sheathed the blade once more, it was clean enough to his mind, and briskly made his escape to the edge of the field flanked by his fiery limbs like a pair of blinders.

“Gracious me, I believe we may have answered the question as to where your sheep had wandered off to.” Leaning upon the fence as he addressed the two Farmers with a nod of the head to the scene behind him while his stomach warned him against actually looking back. “The next question is of course, what manner of creature they are?”

[Shoe Thief]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kathryn Pyke Human, Fighter (Rune Knight), Level 05 HP: 39 / 49 Armor Class: 19 Conditions: Giant's Might, bug goop Location: Avonshire Grazing Field Action: Harvesting (Survival), Nature Check, Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thankfully, things seemed to have calmed down. No more monsters, no more evil dirt creatures or rats of constables. Apart of Kathryn was glad it turned out to not be the former guard. But apart of her kind of hoped so she could tie up that loose end once and for all. But maybe the lost men were gone for good, fleeing to live lives away from this place. She hoped they would still pay for their crimes in some way, but she was unsure how that would happen now. Kathryn was ready to take this win though. As Barbal and Tarace cheered Kathryn hung her hammer from her belt, and the shield across her back, and gave a noble of a bow as she could. One leg ahead of the other, toes on both feet pointed forward, and a gentle lean forward with her head as her arms present openly outwards. "Glad you enjoyed today's festives." Kathryn spoke up in a gleeful yet proud tone. Once she stood up strait she realized how silly the jester must have looked while she was still in full armor head to toe doing a traditionally more feminine bow. But she just hoped that the locals either didn't know or didn't care on the matter. Kathryn's position in noble hierarchy is difficult at best, non existent at worst.

Kathryn smile and chuckled as Lizbeth seemed to have just had the time of her life in this potentially near death experience. Had the party not been here ready to deal with a problem, the whole situation could have gone so much worse... But this little one was about as happy as could be! Her aunt seemed to be catching up rather quickly to the notion as well. They were making the most of the situation for sure. "Can't say I can help ya much with the singing and monster ridin', but if ya ever wanna learn how to swing a weapon let me know yeah? I'm sure we can work something out in a way that wont be too upsetting to your aunt." Kathryn offered to little Lizbeth. Who likely do to current circumstances, seemed really, really small. Kathryn also wanted to leave enough room for an out from Cecily, or at least maybe just prop training with wooden weapons. It wasn't uncommon for the youth of Arconaple to learn to fight. Either because homes were the regular targets for raids, were common places to raise militias, or that particular family kept close ties to the local noble family as men at arms. It wasn't too uncommon for households to maintain a soldiering trade like how some households would maintain baking or blacksmithing trades. Kathryn due to her own circumstances, and the fact that if things had gone to plan she would likely live out on the frontiers, she was already pretty familiar with a weapon by the age of nine. Plus, with how much the L'Rose family has been through in recent weeks, it seemed the need to protect themselves was becoming ever more clear.

Then, it happened. AT first Kathryn felt dizzy, then nauseous as if suffering from debilitating food poisoning, then her world began to spin. As she fought for balance, she returned to normal height in a matter of maybe five to six seconds. For Kathryn, it felt like an agonizing several minutes. But soon, she was standing at her normal height of 6'10", and this time, did not puke and risk drowning herself in her helmet. "mm.... mm'kay..." She muttered as her vision focused, the feeling of almost puking faded, and up returned from its recently acquired sideways position. But she remained on her feet. She remained standing. She, had won and gained control over her new abilities. She knew she had a long way to go to master them. But she now had reliable control over the abilities of her bloodline! "WOO HOO!" She exclaimed fists in the air as she screamed. Quickly she undid the helm on her head attaching it to the other end of her belt. "Oh my gods did you all see that!? I didn't pass out or puke that time! Holy shit!" This was, about the best news she could possibly receive that day. Apart of her wondered if she could do it again?! And if she could figure out how to properly undo it?! OR! What if she could master other abilities?! No no... she couldn't get ahead of herself. She barely has a grasp on the abilities she was practicing now, and no tutor outside of the books V found to learn from. She couldn't risk getting ahead of herself.

Kosara brought up the idea of harvesting the Ankheg for food and other such things. But Kathryn wasn't sure of the best uses much either. If Kosara could make use of it, and V much the same, she figured she should probably do the same. Firstly being she was running low on her own rations... And didn't want to be some leech over the winter. Secondly, she wanted to help her fellow party members as best she could! Plus, she wasn't half bad at the deed. Taking the dagger hanging out on the side of her boot she stepped towards the beast who's chest cavity was rapidly turned into a tunnel and found a chink in the chitin plates she could begin from. Careful to remove the pieces of plate as best as she could to keep it in usable pieces. What the pieces would be used for she wasn't too sure, but they would have time over the winter to figure that out. The task took longer than she hoped. And was unfortunately messy. Thankfully, the air was calm and cool. She'd pack up her collections and pack them into the mule's wagon. From there! Things should be all set. "Kosara, the way you went after that thing I would be surprised if it wasn't you it was frightened of. I would be if you climbed up on me like that." Kathryn joked as the cleanup work was done. But she did have to admit, she did notice some odd behaviors. If Kosara didn't scare the living daylights out of the beast, then what did? Another thing... what were the bugs doing so far north? And so active at that. Things seemed way, way too cold to be comfortable for such beasts. She wondered if something drew them here, or something chased them off here. Maybe they were territorial with their own kind?

Kathryn about asked for the offer on healing, but decided to hold off on it for now. She took a beating but nothing severe. Her armor and tunic? They would need a cleaning, and maybe some patch work should time allow. It also seemed V was just as confused about the giant beast, seemingly jumping to the same conclusion that Kathryn did about their tiefling friend scaring the living color out of it. At least she wasn't alone in that conclusion. Though, V seemed to not have the luck she wanted in trying to get whatever she wanted from the carcass of the beast.

Blackberry didn't seem to be as into the idea of harvesting the bugs. Kathryn found that surprising, but suppose to everyone their own. The party had to eat, and even though they were paid well for the job, Kathryn had spent much of her earnings on things such as tools, parts, and the matching friendship rings for herself and Kosara. She still had some money left for sure, but she didn't want to spend it all on rations before she had the chance to make some decent money. "I think you're right. If there were they would have surely come out yeah?" Granted, one panicked and tried to run away. Another when it couldn't run away filled the battlefield with acid. So maybe if there was another one it had the sense to get the fuck out of Avonshire while its new foes were distracted killing its pack. Were the bugs that smart though? She could not be too sure. "Oh! I know this one. Kinda... Ankhegs!" Kathryn spoke up when Blackberry inquired about such monsters. "They're... not normally in areas like this when it gets cold. So its weird to see them here..." She trailed off. Turning to the two farmers she piped up. "Have you seen anything like this before? Maybe when they were smaller? Or maybe a neighboring town mentioning something?" She asked optimistically. "Also uh... with the loss of your sheep, do you want some of the Ankheg meat? Kosara seems to think its edible if it'll help with your loses?" Kathryn offered trying to help improve their situation as best as she could.

[rivaan]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kosara Tiefling, Warlock (Celestial), Level 04, Barbarian, Level 01 HP: 30/ 34 Armor Class: 12(15 Mage Armor) Conditions: covered in bug goop Location: Wheat field(literal) of battle Action: Survival(17) Butchering Ankhegs Bonus Action: N/a Reaction: N/a

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Not that I know of.” Kosara replied to V’s inquiry about the nature of the sudden fear in the ankheg.” I mean, it’s a bit loose of a memory, but it picked me up on the go heading to the road then suddenly just went into panic, dropped me and moved away. It wasn’t me.” She confirmed again, still focusing on her chop chopping into the giant bug. Her attempts were surprisingly decent actually. The white tiefling that was covered in ankheg goop was happily pulling bits off it. It wasn’t that different from working with smaller bugs all things considered.” NO, it wasn’t me. Also it got feared while it was munching on me with it’s mandibles when it picked me on the go! I got on top after it was feared.” She repeated to everybody’s assurance it was her. Why was everybody so keen to think she did it!? Something was out there!

“Maybe…” Was Kosara reply to Berry’s assurance. There was going to be a certain degree of vigilance to the tiefling’s mind. Well she had it since everything went down in Avonshire. People could call it paranoia, but as what just happened proved, it’s not paranoia if they are out to get you. Giant bugs apparently out of season was very suspicious. She knew how unpleasant the cold was personally. So different and uncomfortable when compared to the constant warmth of the desert. Bugs weren’t going to like it true and now there was an unseen force capable of inciting such overpowering fear in said giant bugs? Yeah something was weird here and she had no idea what.

Paying attention to Kathryn on the side while pulling bits of chitin from the bug and securing the tasty goodness( and gooyness) inside, she blinked now having the name of their meal – Ankhegs. Sounded weird, but thatwas bugs in brief.” It should be edible! Doesn’t appear that different form what I’ve seen back home in the south. We usually hunted smaller critters though. Also if a scorpion’s edible, this should be too!” She quipped chiming in to Kathryn. That said...” This is going to be a loooooot of meat and chitin.” She finally quipped after chopping for a bit and realizing exactly how much they would be able to pull from this if given an hour or two. It would be… at least 250 maybe closer to 270 lbs of ankheg meat.

“Anyone have tarps or blankets or something to bundle the meat up with?” Kosara called out suddenly having realized an issue. The chitin was fine, but the meat wouldn’t be.” We can probably make do by bundling some up in cloaks or bedrolls for the time being and later clean them?” All things considered this was going to be step one of the problem that concerned the ankheg meat goodness. Transport being first… processing being second. They were going to have to process fast and she had… ideas.

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Weather: Still cold, as befits threat of oncoming weather. In the time since the skirmish, the temperature has actually dropped a little.

Time: Mid to late afternoon. The field processing of the Ankhegs has taken a bit of time, and the sun traveled a notable distance in the sky by the interim.

Ambience: The air took on a more acrid note; musky, acidic, but not exactly sterile as the insides of the great beasts were left open to the wind. Those winds blew with the same penetrating chill as ever, and the otherwise quiet of the lands around was near to absolute.

*****

Mosswater's and L'Rose's wagons figured out how to get themselves out of the bind they were in when the Ankhegs attacked. It turned out to be a much easier task when a horse-sized bug wasn't trying to eat them at the time, which would become an excellent lesson to pass along to future generations. To wit, they were now able to move freely back up the pathway to the main road, should they desire to. But at present, it seemed like none of them had an immediate want to leave the scene of the slaughter just yet. In fact, those remaining in their wagons began to climb slowly down to do their little parts to help with the butchering and harvesting of the giant buggies.

Lizbeth's eyes lit up when the possibility of learning how to swing a weapon from Kathryn came up, though she did look to the others with a similar sort of expectant gaze; the look one gives when they want something but feel a little guilty attempting to articulate their feelings. She stammered a little bit, saying, "Do you think, um, maybe I could ... more of the, hmm. Maybe I could learn about magic? How long does it take to learn your spells? Can I hit things with weapons and learn more magic? Can I learn both over the winter? You can train in winter, right?" The expression describing a stereotypical child in an equally stereotypical candy store bore weight in this moment, as a starry-eyed Lizbeth looked ready to gobble up knowledge from as many sources as possible.

Cecily answered the question put to everyone, concerning if they saw what scared the Ankheg, rather absently. "No. I, ah, did not. Wasn't that all of you that scared it? It looked like that from here." and seemed almost relieved to see Lizbeth suddenly find excitement in possibly learning something new, even if it might just be her guests humoring the girl. For the meantime, she did as best she could to rein in her niece's exuberance by giving her a task. "Lizbeth, sweetie? Help me with this wine dilute, please?" The elder L'Rose procured bottles from her wagon, some empty and some full, and began mixing drinking water with wine at a ratio which favored the water. "Make sure everyone gets a bottle, okay?" Cecily shifted her attention to the rest of the group and addressed accordingly, "Drinking and cleaning - That will give you your legs back if you drink it, and it'll clean you up better than just water. Keep those stains from setting." Lizbeth did as she was told, cheerfully passing out the bottles to whomever wanted them.

Tarace didn't really do much at all throughout the course of this, but did gratefully take a bottle and drank deeply from it, explaining it was, "For his nerves." Barbal, being a perpetually scowling sort of Halfling, reinforced Kathryn's answer to Baronfjord, "Yeah, them were Ankhegs. Lucky they weren't the big ones, might've had some problems there. But they were big enough, I suppose..." His voice trailed off and his eyes darted about as if searching the inside of his skull for a retreating thought. "I've seen them before. Not unheard of around here, mind you: 'Bane of Field and Forest,' they're called. Dead stupid as all Hells. Mostly eat dirt, too. They'll upturn cropland and pick off a few herd animals every year, but unless they're a ways south of here, they're supposed to lay eggs and sleep through the cold months. Why, if we found a suspected Ankheg burrow, we'd set at them around springtime with turpentine traps and have a big feast of..." Mr. Mosswater stopped, his ears seeming to twitch at the tapping and cracking sound coming from Kosara's great, greenish-yellow hulk of potential bug-meat. And then he snapped. "WHAT THE HELLSYA DOING?" He quickly recovered and stomped over to her butchering site.

The gruff Halfling pinched the bridge of his nose as if warding away a growing headache and took on a forced patience, saying through gritted teeth (at first), "O-right. You'll get some good meat that way. T'ain't all you'll get if you're not careful, and you'll ruin some good shell that way." He pulled a sturdy knife from his belt and tapped on the shell segment just behind the main claw of one of its front appendages. "See here? The tenderest, tastiest meat comes outta this place right here, but you have to cook it inside that shell. When it comes out, you can split it open easy-like, add some seasoning, and close it back up 'til it cools some. Beautiful, that. Just beautiful. BUT NOT IF YOU KEEP CHIPPING THE CARAPACE!"

At a distance, Tarace took another long drink from his bottle and confided in Cecily, "I kind of like it when he gets all surly like that."

Be it in a manner that was as loud as it was instructional, Barbal gave Kosara (unless directly prompted to leave) a crash course in removing the chitin from the creature to get at the meat without damaging it, what parts were best left inside the shell for immediate preparation, and a deep dive on a couple of his favorite Ankheg recipes. In short, the assistance that the Tiefling requested was given by the angry man, along with a few pointers to help out with her budding kitchen skills. Just in the most ass way possible. He also made it a point to take Kathryn up on her offer, "Yeah, I'm sure we'd be fine with taking some of this off of you - mind you, the meat I'm mostly after is the stuff you're not getting with this field dressing. When you're done hacking the carapace and the big cuts of meat out, we'll just take what's left, if it's no trouble to you. I aim to make some winter sausage. Never could with Ankheg before, it being a spring meat. But again, the sheep belonged to Farmer Laurent. This is his land, not mine. I'm just helping him."

Lizbeth, who at this point was passing out the last of the bottles to the party, paused at Victoria and smiled. "I like the way you sing. I don't think I can do that, though." The pause lasted an odd moment longer before moving along to Baronfjord. "I think this will help settle your stomach, Mssr. Chedgusah. Small sips?" She gave one to Kosara but retreated quickly, not wanting to get involved in the lecture from Mosswater. When Kathryn was given hers, she was met with the simple, childlike request of, "May I please try out your hammer?"

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Laurent Farmland Action: Casting Prestidigitation. Probably more than once. Bonus Action: Morty, Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Progress with the Ankheg was slower than Victoria might have liked. Her experience with these creatures was limited to a few scraps of information one might glean from written materials, as befit something akin to formal education rather than a fuller, hands-on history of breaking down giant, chitinous beasts with a short blade. In fairness, the written word was good enough when coupled with basic survival experience. Be it that she was a cosmopolitan lady from a well-to-do family, her specialties of study recommended at least remedial, applicable knowledge of some grimier activities. As such, the naturally urban Bard handled the task with minimal difficulty - even if she would rather it take significantly less time out in the cold air without her cloak.

Hearing Lizbeth's vocal interest in learning the adventuring arts gave her a little smile, followed by a quick second of concern. Learning these things meant a desire to use those skills, and regardless of the stories she had passed along, being a Bard, only truly successful or truly tragic adventurers had their stories sung to crowds of interested people. Many of them - one might say the majority of them - did not even fare as well as tragic. As a Funerary Violinist and Adventurer herself, she had performed memorials for those whose lives ended in exactly that manner. So yes, a sudden score of worry came over her. Lizbeth was not quite a woman yet, by Human standards. But if she had her heart set on it she would indeed require proper training. Add to this the fact that Victoria was not her Aunt Cecily, nor was she her mother, and as such had no say in this course of action unless Lizbeth came to her personally.

Her thoughts on the matter were jolted someplace far away when the more aggressive Mosswater took it upon himself to help teach Kosara the ropes on Ankheg butchering. It would be a lie to say that she didn't try to eavesdrop, owing to her still incomplete knowledge on the topic, as she continued her work. She had plans for this dead creature and hoped that maybe Barbal might lend some insight.

When Lizbeth handed over the bottle and praised her singing (which in this case was the verbal expression of her spellcraft) and doubt in her ability to do the same, Victoria smiled back at her and was about to give words of encouragement, when she noticed something odd about the girl's expression. They didn't speak further, and the moment ended shortly thereafter. When she left, Victoria took a long drink from the bottle given to her. It wasn't her favorite way to consume wine, but it was refreshing and she was more thirsty than she was initially aware. As she brought the bottle down, she rolled her shoulders and got back to work on the corpse, barely noting the intact state of her slim coat.

When the creature was field dressed as best as she was able, Victoria gratefully accepted the assistance of the Halfling farmfolk in getting her portion of the spoils set aside in the L'Rose's wagon. In turnabout, she offered her assistance getting the agreed upon remainder of the corpse into his. Just as soon as she was physically able to, Victoria cast exactly as many applications of Prestidigitation as was necessary to remove the various unwanted bits of grime and bug from her clothing, freshen herself up, and then replaced her cloak and extraordinarily bardy hat upon her person. "A little blush, maybe have my hair reset, and I expect I shall feel more like myself," she said with a sense of overall satisfaction. Of course, the last part was unnecessary; it might have been impossible for her to have a "bad hair day," or at least it hadn't been witnessed by anyone who had spoken the tale aloud, to the best of her knowledge.

It looked to Victoria that her personal business upon the field had come to a logical conclusion, and so most of the concern with the place vacated her psyche without so much as a wistful glance back. Now was a time to look forward. To this end, Victoria extended a quick mental command to Morty, summoning the smoky, burlap-wrapped meat abomination to her side. She rested her hand upon its head, seemingly for balance, and extended another tendril of influence to the treetops, above. A throaty "CAW" sounded in response, and soon black wings fluttered, circling above.

Victoria got a faraway look to her eyes and a pleased expression as she gave a quick accounting of what could be witnessed from her new, magically enhanced vantage. "The main road is mostly clear of traffic farther out, and a town (I'm almost certain) over the next rise. No sign of other Ankhegs in the fields around us. At least, none above ground." The last detail might have been an important distinction to make, as there really wasn't tangible evidence of Ankhegs in the field in which they all stood until the ground was disturbed by a localized tremor.

The focus came back to Victoria's eyes and she looked around, noting what the others were up to. She was good to go herself but had no problems waiting on the rest of the group, as their quick battle turned into something of a social gathering, as one does, and far be it for her to impose upon a group having a positive moment. However, she did feel that it wouldn't hurt if one element of pragmatism was looked into. "Madame L'Rose," she began, getting the lady's attention with a soft, clear voice, "The carapace - I am curious as to whether there is anyone nearby with experience working this material. Or that barred, if there is a safe, decent spot we may store this until our departure?" Victoria knew some people personally who would fit the bill, but they were many, many leagues from her present location. They would also probably charge her an arm and a leg for the opportunity, as well.

[Shoe Thief]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kathryn Pyke Human, Fighter (Rune Knight), Level 05 HP: 39 / 49 Armor Class: 19 Conditions: Location: Avonshire Grazing Field Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kosara was rather insistent that she was not infact the cause of the fear the beast had felt. She however didn't know what else it could be. Maybe Kosara scared it and she didn't realize it? Or maybe there was more going on then Kathryn knew for sure. Fog of war got strange like that. But she would keep her attention about her, making sure nothing would try to sneak up on them. She didn't feel like passing out, so she figured she had another good fight or two in her before she went down. But what in the nine hells would scare such a creature? Then she paused, realizing she probably did scare the living hells out of the beast she fought. But as far as she knew, she was the only person from Arconaple here. And if more people were here, the chances of someone who knew old runic magic being present were rather slim as they were uncommon abilities even from home. Though, she supposed people from outside of Arconaple could learn these abilities... The old clans traveled a lot. Well... raided a lot. And in Arconaple's prime, they'd send their legions off to war to far off lands. Some would settle, other would return home and open up trade routes. And then there were the goblins... The ones who had the books with the runes. Thankfully they either didn't know enough old tongue to learn it, or no one had taught them the basics and foundational work of old runic magic. The other bits were rather useless without it. If Kathryn hadn't learned most the basics before she fled home, the runes would likely be useless to her unless she found a way to teach herself the basics of runic magic and the old tongue needed to follow it.

Kathryn chuckled remembering how optimistic and excited she used to get when she wanted to learn something. Seeing Lizbeth light up despite her struggles the last week or so was amazing. "Well, the others are far better at arcane magic and most other types of magic. But I am sure we can find a teacher for you. If you ever have interest in runic magic, you'll never have to worry about reaching the top shelf ever again!" Kathryn said the last line with a jesting tone. Runic magic was hard to grasp its foundation, but once that was down the rest kind of set into place. But most people were far more interested in arcane magic. A type of magic Kathryn had no skill for. "But we got some smart people here who I am sure can absolutely spare you some time to teach you a few tricks." And who knew? Maybe Kathryn would pick up a trick or two? She had no knack for spell casting, but that was the appeal of runic magic. An alternate form of magic even those who aren't proficient with magic can learn over time. Though far more limited in use, and demanding far more physical effort then most forms of magic.

Meat harvesting went well as a whole. Kosara was getting help from Mr. Mosswater on how to handle the meat and bug bits far better then they were. Likely a more specialized knowledge. And from what he explained it seemed the locals were rather familiar with these beasts. But he seemed to concur, them being here was rather unusual. But they were a smaller kind. Youths maybe? A sub breed? Kathryn wasn't sure. Maybe just under developed from being cast away from ideal hunting grounds? She wasn't sure. She did however take notes from the halfing on how to dress the creature. "Well, do let us know how we can help. I don't know a ton on the topic of making sausage but I can make my way around a kitchen." Kathryn said with the confidence of someone who could handle a high class restaurant single handedly, while in reality she would probably need assistance in a simple household kitchen. But she was a great helper in a kitchen, even if her own skill wouldn't let her do a ton on her own. At least.. she thought so. Kathryn would try to help Barbal however she could, but much of it was probably being used as manual labor. Loading up bits of the bugs into the wagons for everyone and carrying it about as needed.

Now though, Kathryn's favorite part of most days, drinking time. As Kathryn got her bottle from Lizbeth she smiled warmly when she spoke. "Thanks a bunch. It should help a ton." Kathryn said thankful to have someone so ready to help about. Kathryn's smile brightened when Lizbeth asked to wield the hammer. Kathryn figured the height of her skill would be when someone reached out to her for lessons. To teach them in skills that she was an expert in. In this moment, Kathryn felt she was finally honing in on her own skills! "Absolutely Lizbeth. Just a second to clean up here yeah? Won't take but a bit." Kathryn popped open the bottle, downing nearly half of it before pouring some of it onto her tunic. Then taking a quick moment to dab and pat out some of the stains. She would have to clean it more thoroughly later, but this should make it far easier. Though, she may need to patch some of it as well. Once the cleaning was done, Kathryn took the remaining watered down wine and downed it as if it were just any other obstacle in her path that could be defeated just by forcing her way through it.

"Alright darling. Let's step off to the side here so we don't hit anyone in our excitement yeah?" Kathryn was struggling to hide how giddy she was. As a noble, having someone offering their child as a ward was a great sign of respect. As a knight someone who wanted to learn your skills meant they thought highly of your ability, and simply Kathryn being an older sibling to many others, the chance to help guide and nurture young Lizbeth was just something exciting to her. She wanted to help this small child be the best she could be! And if she didn't end up becoming a warrior like herself, Kathryn wanted to give her a fair chance to see if it was something she wanted to get into before deciding.

Kathryn walked Lizbeth south bound in the field trying to make sure if the little Lizbeth lost control she wouldn't hit anyone or anything of value. "Alrighty, I am going to give you a couple instructions that I need you to follow to the letter. Otherwise we won't be able to do this again yeah? This is a weapon after all. Very good at killing things. This one in particular. We don't want to mess up." Kathryn paused her serious tone for a moment and leaned in with a smile on her face. "That doesn't mean we can't have a bit of fun." Kathryn whispered like an excited teenager sneaking out of her parents place to go out and do something her parents would probably not approve of.

Kathryn stood up strait, and pulled the hammer off her belt, holding it in both hands with tight grips. "I want ya to use both hand. It'll be easier to control, and we can practice one handed if you get this down. I want the hand you are dominant with closer to the head. It'll make it easier to control. And your other hand will be used as a pivot so it'll be easier to build up momentum with it yeah?" Kathryn stepped back from Lizbeth and did a couple mock swings with a right handed dominant position, and showed off a left handed dominant position as well. "I'm ambidextrous so I can do both comfortable. But most people aren't. So if you need help figuring out which is better let me know. For some people some tasks are easier with one hand, but other tasks are harder with that hand." Kathryn said hefting the hammer. "I want you to practice the motions first before you put some strength into it. Otherwise you may send yourself into the dirt on your first swing." Kathryn showed a couple twist and swing motions Lizbeth could practice with to get familiar with how the hammer felt when moving. "After you get comfortable with how the hammer moves, we can move on to the more fun stuff." Kathryn said with a smile on her face.

Then as if she were a parade dancer, she twirled the hammer about until the head was pointed towards the crook of her elbow, and the shaft was pointed towards Lizbeth. Kathryn then out stretched her arm so the grip would be easy to reach. "Keep it simple. Get comfortable with the weight. And get the okay from me before we start wailing with it yeah? And keep some distance from everyone. At least ten feet yeah? Otherwise, have fun darling." Kathryn said warmly as she passed the weapon off to the small child. Though, Kathryn was maybe half her age when she first handled a weapon. A metal training sword that she found herself getting hit with more then hitting anything with. The hammer wasn't a training weapon, but Lizbeth had some years of life experience over a young Kathryn. And Kathryn had a trick or two up her sleep should Lizbeth slip up.

[Arty Fox]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), Level 05 HP: 40 / 40 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: N/A Location: Edge of the field Action: Checking on the Mule (10) Bonus Action: pet the horsey Reaction: N/A Ki: 2/5

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

BlackBerry watched Lady Kathryn with a careful eye when she suddenly began to wobble where she stood and then curiously shrank back down to her more familiar, though no less substantial and imposing height. He stood at the ready to dash over and help her stay upright but thankfully he wouldn't have to in the end, as Lady Kathryn gave a few whoops of joy from not throwing up. Given what she had said about her last attempt with her runic magic he couldn't blame her.

His own stomach however was still threading a revolt which only grew stronger when Barbel added onto Lady Kathryn's explanation of the creature, Ankhegs, with fun instructions to Kosara about how best to capture, prepare, and cook the beasts. For the most part he simply help his hand over his snout in an attempt to politely cover his grimace of disgust. It seemed like everyone was on board with the idea of collecting a good amount and bringing it with them, likely intending to fill the wagon as much as they could with whatever survived the gathering process.

“Weren’t the big ones.” BlackBerry parroted Barbal with an incredulous tone as he gestured towards the Ankhegs. “Begging your pardon, but are you suggesting these Ankhegs get bigger? Actually, no I do not wish to know.”
A horrible thought popped into his mind; he remembered not long ago taking shelter in a friendly homestead where he had been kindly offered a simple meal in return for tales and news from afar, the meal including a nice slice of meat the host had called 'Fields Fiend'. Blackberry chose in that moment to believe it had just been a fun name and in no way related to the current topic, likely it had been too far away from where these creatures roamed so there was no chance it could have been the same. It was simply a coinciden. Just a Coincidence.

Lizbeth arriving with a small bottle of drink pulled him back to the present and out of his horrors. Graciously accepting the bottle he returned to the conversation but kept his gaze away from the impromptu lesson Kosara was being given.

"It would seem there is a mystery then; Why are they here?" Following Lizbeths kind advice, he took a small sip of the drink and found it cool, refreshing, and did in fact calm his stomach. "Were the creatures brought here or came of their own volition? It does hardly seem that Mr Laurent is moving on from sheep to Ankhegs." Taking another small sip, he then continued the previous thought. "I would suggest it wise to check for any sign of a nest nearby. It would not do for us to go through all this trouble only for more Ankhegs to appear then again later on. However, if I may leave that to the rest of you, I shall attend our dear mule."

He hopped back over the fence with slightly less spring in his step than before the talk of eating bugs, and headed towards to the party’s wagon where their mule waited almost exactly where he had left it.

He gently patted the creature on the nose and looked into its big black eyes. “There you are Old Boy. I trust you are doing well?”

BlackBerry fussed over the creature as he tried his best to figure out any tell-tale signs of stress, but otherwise glad to see the creature hadn’t bolted from its spot during the short skirmish. Overall the animal seemed, as far as BlackBerry could tell, but its ears kept snapping back and forth to any noise while fidgeting on the spot, and mouthing around its bit. It seemed to him that their poor Mule was at least bit put out by the whole ordeal, and perhaps trying to put brave face for everyone.

“Ah, easy now Old Boy. there is nought to worry about now.” He stroked down the beasts neck making hushing and relaxing noises, hoping to calm it down. He snapped his fingers remembering something. “One moment, I have just the thing for you.”

In the back of the wagon he found a small bag containing a few brushes and other tools someone back in the Township had said was a grooming kit, along with a small bag of what he had been assured was some very nice oats. BlackBerry returned to the Mule and spent some time feeding it the very nice oats before moving on to using the big brush from the bag, one of the few tools he recognised and he decided to later ask someone what the rest of the tools were for.

Not long after and with the parties spoils packed and ready to go he took the time to relax a little to simply enjoy the scenery, as well as removing some of the strains from his new clothing, and hopefully take advantage of Victoria's prestidigitation abilities if she allowed. It seemed that Lady Kathryn was still taking the time to walk Lizbeth through her own impromptu training; showing the motions of swinging the hefty weapon before handing it over to the young girl, and then patiently correcting her mistakes while praising her accomplishments.

Let them have their fun for a little longer, he thought, there is still time after all before dark.

He lent upon the fence while nearby Victoria and Madame L'Rose discussed matters around how to use the bug Carapace that had been gathered. The thought of all they were carrying still disgusted him but BlackBerry saw no need to argue against it now. Instead, he watched the lesson in front of him making sure that firstly, Lizbeth didn't come to any harm, and secondly, that no more Ankhegs decided to make another appearance. Placing his chin in his hand, the whole scene in front of him put him in mind of home, far, far away from where he was now, and to the thought of another young girl he knew. A heavy weight settling across his chest and heart, an oppressive weight which pulled his brows together in a sad furrow, while he tried to look far beyond all he could see at that moment. BlackBerry lifted his chin and began to play with the cloth wrapped around his neck. The poor girl had been through a lot but he wondered if this was really the best idea.

"Very well done young Lizbeth, no doubt you will make a marvellous fighter soon enough He called to the pair. "Especially soon with Lady Kathryn as your mentor."

[rivaan]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kosara Tiefling, Warlock (Celestial), Level 04, Barbarian, Level 01 HP: 30/ 34 Armor Class: 12(15 Mage Armor) Conditions: covered in bug goop Location: Wheat field(literal) of battle Action: Prestidigitation Bonus Action: N/a Reaction: N/a

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kosara’s merry experimentation based butchering attempt on unfamiliar species of giant bugs was interrupted briefly when Lizbet came with a bottle of wine.” Ohh thank you!” She grinned widely and cast a brief Prestidigitation to set it for the idea drinking temperature before returning to her butchering now energized and with the taste of ankheg goop out of her mouth after wrinsing it a few times with the watered down alcohol and spitting it. Now that her mouth wasn’t covered with the stuff, she could also taste the drink properly. It was nice, reminded her of some of the stuff they would serve back home in the Caravan Stop. It would certainly go well with some types of cheese and meats.

‘Mhhhmmm… yes.’ She wistfully imagined it, being back home with everybody. Having fun, dancing with her sisters, listening to tales of adventure from patrons. In the end she shook her head and scattered those thoughts. She was on her own adventure right now.’ And I need to butcher this thing up for food! Survival and all that!’ So she resumed her merry undertaking.

Well she would have resumed it, but she was interrupted by a loud shout of indignation or maybe it was affront to her attempts.” No idea!” Kosara cheerfully replied, looking at Mr. Mosswater, dagger raised on one hand while the other held onto one of the chitin plates.” We didn’t hunt things like these back home… Honestly not sure we had them, we used to hunt scorpions, but their chitin arrangement is entirely different.”

“Teach me your butchering ways!” Kosara exclaimed when the man began explaining to her how to get better yield from the ankheg and to get the best parts of the meat. Yep, this was turning into one of the better days on her adventures as she listened to his lessons and ankheg preparation and how to grab the tasty bits.” You know, you remind me of my Gramps back home, the one that looked after us in the Caravan Stop. He also seemed to know how to prepare every critter that lived back home.” The gruff angry man was not something that cheery Kosara had an issue with surprisingly enough. Sure he was angry and gruff, but he was helping so the tiefling figured he was like that most of the time anyways. Gramps, not to be confused with Grandpa Horny, was a gruff aging man with arms probably as big if not bigger than Kathryn and with a gruff demeanor, but he also took great care off all the people who lived in the Caravan Stop he owned. This guy at least seemed somewhat similar.

Something else caught her attention on the side, Kathryn who was agreeing to help Lizbet with training with a weapon.” Don’t do it unsupervised and used properly sized weapon!” The tiefling chimed in her two coppers.” I mean, I tried playing with dual swords when I was a kid and nobody was looking, ended up cutting off my tail! Better be safe than sorry!”

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Weather: The cold air and occasional breeze remains unchanged. Winter is setting in.

Time: Mid to late afternoon. Since the last update, not a lot of time has passed.

Ambience: The more musk and acid scents of the butchered Ankhegs are likely keeping more natural predators at bay, if indeed any are around. A lighter mood seems to have settled on the recent field of skirmish in addition to the quiet along the settled moor.

*****

Putting the remains of the Ankhegs into the respective wagons wasn't quite so difficult of a task when many hands were put to it. This truth took an incremental and steady decline with the number of people who refrained from volunteering, but for the moment, Barbal Mosswater wasn't pointing any hard, deliberate fingers. Suffice it to say, the stuff got stowed properly and a thick, oil treated canvas tarp made its way to the L'Rose wagon for temporary use. The disarticulated corpses didn't seem to take up quite as much room as fully intact ones might, in no small part due to the Mosswaters laying claim to a large part of the bodies which did not involve the choicest cuts of meat and carapace. The gut pile, or piles, plural, remained where they were upon the field, possibly as food for scavengers brave enough to venture close. It was not very likely that the laborers would glean fallen grain from this end of the field.

The Mosswaters got themselves ready to leave after all was butchered and packed up. As far as they were aware the problem had been settled, even if a minuscule suspicion remained. Barbal announced, "We need to catch up to the ones who left for the Township. Cold should keep the bits and pieces fresh for a good while yet. We will be checking in after a day or two, I reckon."

Tarace added, with a moment of initial hesitation, "I say, ah... There's no guarantee that those three were all of them, and if I may? Something kept those things from settling in for the winter. And made them ravenous enough to devour half a flock of sheep. They mostly, hmm... They mostly eat dirt, you see." He left it with that final thought, though the implications were clear: Ankhegs might have just been a symptom of a bigger issue. And even if this problem was handled relatively easily by stout and stalwart Adventurers, there was possibly more to come for the unwary or underprepared.

The Halflings got their wagon back underway, rolling steadily back up toward the main road. Barbal gave a single gruff "Thank you," as they departed, barely offering a look back to the party or their hosts. Tarace waved with something bordering on histrionics.

The answer to Baronfjord's initial question to Barbal actually came from Cecily, who had since walked nearer to the fence to get closer to her niece. "Oh, I've heard talk of "queens" and "soldiers", like they were ants or something like that. But I believe Barbal was just being, um, well ...himself. And we do love him for it, even if he's a little more colorful with his talk than the next person." She shrugged, then turned to address Victoria's earlier question. "U cannot rightly say with certainty, but the Rose River Vineyard employs a Dwarf fellow - has for the past three or so years now - name of Urmdrus. He works our forge, does some carpentry, stonework, and the like. Wiry sort, for a Dwarf. He's proven to be excellent craftsfolk with almost any medium I've asked of him and works fast. But I must admit, the facial tattoos did throw me off when Grandfather L'Rose first hired him."

The older draft mule's slightly unsettled nature calmed down almost entirely when the Dragonborn Monk took a brush and a few soothing words to him. The former army mule appeared to take the attack better than many of the two-legged sapients in attendance did, and recovered with minimal support. A half-whinny, half-snort escaped him, which quieted to contented nickering.

Before it became time to leave, Lizbeth was having the time of her life, or so it appeared that way. She listened to Kathryn's words on the subject of the hammer and potential hammering, as well as advice on not hammering herself in the process. She did grip up on the device with two hands, as instructed, and gave a wince as she heard Kosara describe her accidental tail-ectomy. It even struck her as being a little dangerous when she added something about a properly sized weapon. This hammer was, at an exaggeration, almost as big as she was. This did not stop her from going out the suggested distance and giving a few two-handed practice swings before giggling a little and switching to extremely inexpert, overbalancing arcs with the weapon. In short, she was extremely not good with it. She barely had the strength necessary to hold it properly for any length of time. But she was having a genuinely good time. After a bit, she relinquished it to Kathryn.

With things loaded and nary a fly to swat in sight, a few moments of taking it easy/experimenting with weaponry, and animals settled down, Cecily and Lizbeth hopped back into their wagon and pulled forward enough for the party's wagon to have a easier time swinging back around to follow them.

Back upon the main road, one could barely make out the retreating form of the Mosswaters' wagon cresting a rise to the north, en route back to the Avonshire Township. The L'Rose's wagon turned in the opposite direction, following the simple signpost which read "Southmoor", and an arrow pointing down the road, quite oddly, to the south.

Cecily called back to whomever cared to listen, "We're coming up on Southmoor in about an hour, hour and a half. It's the last town before reaching the Vineyard by this road. Half of the people there work for us seasonally, and they comprise about half of our workforce during the busy months. We take laborers from the villages around the moors in this area too, but here's where the lion's share live. When it's not harvest, anyway." A moment or two of silence, and she mentioned, "Southmoor is the last place to make any purchases before we get home, if you need anything today."

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Road to Southmoor -> Southmoor Action: Ritual Casting Phantasmal Steed, Skill Check - Performance Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

There was a burst of spontaneous optimism from Victoria as they set out to continue their journey southward. As rallying as the fight was, and as potentially profitable as their spoils might be (provided she could find a crafter or a buyer in this very out-of-the-way region), it was a good feeling to be back on the road and in pursuit of a destination. Particularly a destination known for really good wine. Her thoughts went back to the Fortified Zinnoberrot that she had in the Township, and the fact that they were going to the place that made it. She was instantly curious as to whatever else they had stored in temperature-stable cellars back there. Not that she was a lush. Far from it; she might even be referred to as a bit of a cheap date. The truth was that her admiration for certain qualities of wines took priority over her desire for their intoxicating effects. Not that the latter was to be entirely frowned upon, of course.

Victoria had noticed the interesting way in which Lizbeth took to Kathryn's hammer. The valuable and magical spoils of battle against the Constable was being given no favors as the young lady made the air around her dangerous, as if it was the first time she had taken up a warhammer in her life. The last musing, Victoria figured, was likely accurate. It's not like the granddaughter of a vineyard owner had a lot of need to learn the use of martial weapons. And this one seemed to have her overbalanced. Victoria excused herself from the front of their wagon and checked its contents. After a moment or two, she emerged with a sheathed shortsword which had been collected from the Goblins they obliterated a week or two prior. The weapon was not made in a Goblin forge - as a matter of fact it looked like it was made in the same region that her own sword was, which raised questions for her unrelated to their current situation. It was Human craftsmanship, and fairly recently made.

After hopping down from the wagon, Victoria jogged up to speak with Lizbeth. She handed over the sword, suggesting, "Until your arm grows stronger, perhaps this is a little more your speed, Mademoiselle Lizbeth." She would have preferred to use the more familiar honorific of Miss, but she was the foreigner in these lands. Maybe when they knew each other better it would be more socially acceptable. "Your movements are more agile than they are powerful. Perhaps you might ask Lady Kathryn to start you with this, instead. There was also this lovely whip we acquired, if it piques your interest." Maybe it wasn't her place to offer, but no one had claimed it and, at least for now, it served a training purpose rather than a practical one.

News that they were close to a point of civilization was not surprising to Victoria, as she had glimpsed it from afar through the eyes of her new Familiar and had read the roadside sign like everyone else, though putting an expected time to it was beneficial. She was not accustomed to giving such estimations from a bird's eye view and it was immeasurably helpful. It also gave her time to prepare. A lady must make an entrance, after all; most especially if that lady was her. Victoria returned to the wagon and looked into her ritual book, refreshing her memory of the spell she had cast just that morning. The next few minutes were spent weaving together arcane energies in slow, steady amounts until it reached the appropriate composition to suit her desires. At the end of this time, her magical pursuits bore its inevitable fruit.

Materializing from wisps of mist and the stuff of shadows came an equine form. It was basic at first, cloudy, details shrouded in the fog of its own creation, but as the moment passed it came into clear, solidified view. The phantasmal steed from their initial outset reemerged from the ether; a majestic horse of truly otherworldly, haunting quality. The statuesque animal appeared as if carved from polished marble of the purest white, bearing eyes which reflected the post-midday sun in hues of ghostly, glossy purple. It had stockings, mane, and tail of oil-black, the latter two of which rippled and flowed as if underwater. It gave a great snort and shook its head in an almost ponderous fashion, then immediately accepted Victoria as its rider.

Atop her noble, if a bit unsettling steed, Victoria sent her raven ahead to seemingly announce their arrival. She did always like to make an entrance, for matters of drawing a crowd professionally as well as her own vanity. This town, Southmoor, wasn't as large as the Township to the north, but was just big enough to have some charming stores selling local goods, and to be frank, there were a couple of things that she had neglected to acquire for herself. Small luxury goods that she suddenly wished to acquire from local creators rather than from merchants along a trade route. Soaps came to mind. Cleaning up with the quick and simple use of Prestidigitation was useful, easy, and did a more than adequate job, but there was something about luxuriating in hot water with nuanced, naturally scented soap that was quite irreplaceable by the application of magic.

So as the short caravan of Adventurers and Vintners approached the town, apparently nestled within a rare copse of trees along the river, Victoria's raven familiar fluttered upon a signpost just within the settlement and gave its raspy call to those who would listen. Cresting the land to arrive in Southmoor then came the sight of two wagons and one purple-and-charcoal clad figure astride a great, phantasmal horse which moved forward seemingly without guided direction. The very feminine figure adjusted her especially jaunty, incredibly bardy hat upon her flowing, red-auburn locks, then drew a bow across the finely tuned strings of her impressive violin, allowing the honeyed yet powerful, stirring notes to ring out into the air and find their way into the souls of those who would listen.

The raven took wing again, riding the winds to circle above once, twice, and a third time to finally light upon Victoria's shoulder as her song continued. She swayed slightly in her saddle, moved by the enchanting force of her own music with eyes shut, simply experiencing the moment until they came upon the edge of the town, proper. She looked back to Cecily, on her perch in the driver's seat of her wagon, and declared, "Southmoor. This is just as lovely as you described, Madame L'Rose. Please, if you would be as considerate, where might a lady purchase soaps and other fine sundries in this absolutely charming hamlet?" Her smile radiated magnetic warmth just as much as simultaneous awe and approachability. Victoria scanned what she might see from her vantage point on her saddle and half-mused, half-projected, "Stunningly picturesque, really."

[Shoe Thief]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kathryn Pyke Human, Fighter (Rune Knight), Level 05 HP: 39 / 49 Armor Class: 19 Conditions: N/A Location: Southmoor Village Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lizbeth handled the weapon like a complete amateur. But, she also handled it like someone who wanted to use it well, and who was ready to learn more. For someone who had never taken a weapon into combat? This was the best case scenario. This made kathryn giddy like she was an older sister learning of all the cute crushes her younger sister had. If crushes were in this case "Hey what's your favorite weapon of war!" Not that Kathryn would actually ask Lizbeth that. Yet. She needed to make sure the young child could practice with an assortment of things so she had an idea what she liked to fight with. What also helped was Blackberry's words of encouragement to the small warrior. She had a long way to go before she would be good. And even if she decided that fighting wasn't for her, Kathryn wanted her to have that option. Even if not to go into the practice, just so she could defend herself should that need ever arrive.

But the small child listened well, and followed Kathryn's steps to the best of her abilities. When Kathryn accepted the return of the weapon she smiled at the young woman with pride in her eyes. "You're doing wonderful. You're already handling it better than I handled my first weapon. Good job Lizbeth." Kathryn spoke in a reassuring gesture before calmly taking the hammer back. Amateur? Yes. But she had some potential if she wanted to put into it. Plus, she looked like she was having a grand ol' time. How could Kathryn take that away from her? The answer? Kathryn was going to get more weapons up to par for the small child to practice with. To say she was excited was an understatement. But she had to prepare herself for the fact that this may not be what Lizbeth wanted to do in life. Even as a side hobby or backup skill. But this little moment? Was something special to her. And that meant the world to Kathryn. The tall woman turned to Blackberry to reply to his comment towards Lizbeth. "She has a real natural knack for it. As long as she stays smart about it yeah?" Kathryn said giving Lizbeth a warm, but stern look. Attempting to give the message, of don't do anything too stupid. But, Kathryn also wanted to have fun.

Kathryn found it interesting learning about Family Kosara had other than her sisters, who seemed in many ways like coworkers more than sisters, and her Grandpa Horny. Granted, Kathryn had heard of brothers in arms and how close those people got. Maybe Kosara had a relationship like that with her sisters? She didn't understand it all too much. But was this like a grandpa grandpa? Like one related to her by blood? She wasn't sure she heard Kosara mention anything of that nature before... The tail on the other hand? Sounded about right for Kosara. She had a lot of skills, but the lack of a tail seemed to be her own mistakes trying something challenging without the prior know how. Thankfully she recovered. Just missing a single appendage.

On their way out, Kathryn made sure to wave at the Mosswater's and wish them well on their trip to town. She was sure things would be jarring for a while without the constable, and now with the Sheriff taking over his roll for the time being. But as far as she could tell, things were begining to improve for the small town despite the recent chaos. Not only from wererats, but now from giant bugs too? What a strange world indeed. Kathryn kept pace with the wagons with a brisk walk. Wanting to be prepared in case there was another ambush. But thankfully that seemed unlikely. Though the talks of soldiers and queens made Kathryn uneasy. There could easily be more, and these ones were being far more aggressive than expected of them. She wondered if they would see more before long. If they did, she hoped it was on favorable terms again. Open ground and the chance to unleash a hell of a punishment early into the fight.

Kathryn listened on as Cecily explained that they were approaching Southmoor, the last town before the vineyard. Sure, Kathryn had ton a fair bit of spending. But there were a few things she was on the fence about for the last few weeks that she had been holding out on. But with the assurance that things would be taken care of materially for the next few months, she figured that she could afford to chance a few on the fence items. Especially clothes. "Hey uh, I am gonna go see if I can find a couple things before we get going. I won't be too long. Just a couple clothing items mostly yeah?" She ran off soon afterwards. Dumping her pack and much of her gear into the wagon with the giant bug bits to free up her person a bit. She still kept much of her weapons on her belt, though she didn't expect to need them.

V definitely made a grand entrance herself. Summoning a rather grand magical... glass looking horse. It was a sight that Kathryn had not expected to see, but a sight that she found herself rather entrenched with. A beast that normally could be seen as a common every day endurance, now summoned and formed with magic well beyond Kathryn's own understanding and ability. Kathryn took note of the crowd gathering, and wondered if they would react in awe as much as she did. As a whole, they didn't seem particularly upset, so she assumed all was good. Kathryn would have to ask V how she did such a trick, and if it was possible for someone like Kathryn to learn such a trick. The tall woman knew a couple tricks and abilities, but as a whole her abilities were limited to physical might, and old runic magic. Once Kathryn mastered her own abilities, she wanted to go back and learn more arcane or... some other types of magic. "It sure is a sight yeah." Kathryn spoke up, replying to V, but staring at the horse for a moment. But she had tasks she wanted to get done today. And if there was to be another bug attack today, she wanted it to be while they still had daylight. So she would get moving for now, but soon, someday soon, Kathryn would ask her bardy friend how such magic is learned.

The first person to buy clothes from was pretty easy. She decided to buy some simple gambeson material to pad up her sleeping bag. She had been struggling with sleep a bit due to her own fears, and she was hoping armoring up her bag a bit would help with that. She wasn't totally sure it would, but worst case, it could also make the thing far more comfortable. Simple, spend money, get product, move on. The next vendor was a little trickier. This time Kathryn was going for more strait forward clothes, but found herself looking at a cute shirt she thought she would look nice in. Not really something Kathryn was always concerned with, but she found herself wanting from time to time to be a prettier version of herself. But she decided against it for now. She had a dress packed away into her kit. And assuming she still fit it she had no intentions of replacing it. Plus, there's no way this dress would fit. Kathryn then grabbed a set of traveler's clothes folded off to the side that surprisingly looked like they may fit her. She wondered if there was someone else in town who regularly bought clothes in her size, or she was just somehow barely in a one size fits most range. "What's a young lady like you need clothes like that for?" Kathryn brought the clothes to the elderly woman who likely made them, and then quickly grabbed a simple, yet more common and comfortable looking set of clothes also about her size. "Just want to be prepared for the coming winter yeah? Fire wood work and something comfortable to wear in the night." Kathryn said with a smile. The woman, didn't return it in kind. But easily enough took Kathryn's money, and let Kathryn leave without another word.

Kathryn found the whole shopping experience odd, but not hostile. Kathryn figured she probably confused the woman at some point and she was trying to keep a calm and controlled expression around her. Or, she was old, had seen it all, and wasn't phased by anything or anyone. Or maybe something else that Kathryn couldn't even begin to guess. The world may never know. Kathryn did however catch up to the wagons rather quickly, dropping off her new wares with her pack with her own giddy expression on her face. The vineyard was going to be the closest Kathryn has had to a vacation in her life. And shy of some easy guard work her and Ser Lucas picked up, her most relaxing time since she left home. She wanted nothing to go wrong with it.

[Arty Fox]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), Level 05 HP: 40 / 40 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: N/A Location: Southmoor Action: Drive the Wagon (21) Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A Ki: 3/5

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Despite Madame L’Rose’s reassurances that Barbal was probably just ‘being himself’ it didn’t work well to eliviate BlackBerry’s concerns. The idea of the Ankhegs having Queens and Soldiers, as MAdame L’Rose had explained, put some very strange images in BlackBerry’s head. Perhaps the creatures had decided to expand their borders? Or perhaps even they had been banished? An amusing image of one such Ankheg stealing the crown of another stubbornly refused to leave his mind for some time.

Once again, seated at the front of the wagon Blackberry was giving driving a go with much better success than his first attempt and had even surprised himself being able to turn the wagon around smoothly with minimal issue after the cargo had been loaded. A simple click of the tongue and a gentle flick of the reigns had been all that was needed for the Old Boy to move on at a steady pace, now after calming down thankfully quickly from the earlier excitement, and even didn't seem the least bit concerned about the cargo he was pulling. The wagon continued its way down the track as it trundled after the L'Roses' with the wind occasionally biting at BlackBerry as if reminding him that colder days were soon approaching despite the calm afternoon sun still relaxing above them.

BlackBerry's thoughts kept returning to the Ankhegs. His eyes kept snapping across the road ahead and the fields on either side, looking but not actually seeing, while his leg bounced with enough vigour that anyone sitting next to him would struggle to tell if it was the road or Blackberry making the wagon shake.

He had commented with approval once Victoria had returned from handing Lizbeth a sword. “A very handsome gift indeed. Let us hope your story, Kosara, has not left a sour taste of it for Madame L'Rose.”

Otherwise though the rest of the journey was uneventful (thankfully) save for towards the end where Victoria summoned her steed back into the world as the travellers drew closer to Southmoor. BlackBerry couldn’t help but let out a small whistle of appreciation at both the theatrics Victoria employed in the summoning and the state of the steed as well. The bard certainly knew how to put on a show.

BlackBerry politely slowed the wagon a little to allow Victoria her moment in the spotlight, announcing their arrival through song as the party drew into the boundary of the little town, and the road beneath the wagons wheels transitioned slowly from compacted earth to gravel and cobbles. He directed Old Boy to follow after the L’Rose wagon into the town with its charming little houses lining what must have been the only large street it had, though more houses up on the hill above did tease at more. BlackBerry pulled back on the reigns as he saw the L’Rose wagon come to a stop, and he hopped down to lead Old boy next to them as Victoria brought her tune to an end. BlackBerry of course gave a polite applause by clapping his hand upon his shoulder.

“If you are all looking to make some purchases I would be happy to stay here with wagons. Apart from some rations I have no need of anything currently so I can make some enquiries whilst we wait.”

"But if there is time, I should like to accompany Masters Barbal and Tarrace in a day or two.” He said, finally voicing his concerns that had been plaguing him throughout the journey. “You, Victoria, say you did not see any sign of nests and while I do not doubt your skills or perhaps even the advantage of a 'Birds eye view' I still worry that there is something we may have missed. Neither folk appear to be the combative sort either should the worst come to pass."

“So who wishes to place bets on what the cause is then? Another unsavoury fellow in power? Or simply some strange goings on in the animal kingdom? Perhaps even one of the ruffians once part Cavendish's troupe are responsible. I shudder to think.”

"However, perhaps we could sell off some of our uuuh..." His nose scrunched. "Some of the cargo. I can only assume it will not keep well for long."

[rivaan]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kosara Tiefling, Warlock (Celestial), Level 04, Barbarian, Level 01 HP: 30/ 34 Armor Class: 12(15 Mage Armor) Conditions: N/a Location: Road to Southmoor -> Southmoor Action: N/a Bonus Action: N/a Reaction: N/a

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The journey following their ankheg escapades was a pretty calm one all things considered, a huge pile of bug meat being brought along for the ride not withstanding. Though saying goodbye to the Mosswaters got Kosara all emotional with lots of arm waving. All in all? It was a fine adventuring day! Almost made her forget the paranoid little niggling feeling at the corner of her senses that everything and everybody could be out to get you for one reason or another. Maybe it was just the way the various pebbles or sticks crackled whenever somebody stepped on something on the road? Or maybe it was the groaning of the wagon’s wheels as they moved that reminded her of some vast beast waiting to jump you when you are least aware. Yeah… paranoia was the name of the game. Well it should be, for some reason after having the chance to fight it off with the bugs for the time being at least she felt better.

By the time they reached the town of Southmoor, Kosara had mostly cleaned herself of bug goo. She was no longer covered in it at least. She was though looking forward to a chance to get a proper bath to wash it all off, especially out of her hair. Who knew if it was good for the skin or hair anyways. Everybody seemed to have things they wanted to buy in town.

“It is rather pretty in it’s own way.” Kosara agreed with the general opinion that Southmoor looked like a good settlement.” I will go buy a few things!” She called out and jumped off the wagon with nary a care in the world and dashed merrily off down one way of what she presumed was a main street. Or maybe a street leading to a main street? She moved on her own tune and her tune told her to buy spices for food. She needed to prove the true nature of a sandwich to Kathryn and for that she required spices of varying kind… That or she just wanted to prepare some interesting food, but getting the victory to the Sandwich debate would be a nice thing to happen.

Hurrying down marketstalls that are about to close and stores that were rather annoyed that she was getting there that late, Kosara was merrily ignoring any negative opinions that might arise, hurriedly picking thing things left right and center. After having decided on her budget more or less, she was quickly filling her bag with varying spices. By the end of her rushed shopping spree, she had spend 5 gold coins on the varying spices. Rosemary, basil, marjoram, tarragon, herb mixtures, thyme and bayleaves, mint and dried red peppers that had been ground to some extra spicy powder. Ohh her family would have loved that last one. In addition to the varying spices she had also grabbed some smokeleaf. Nothing too special, but looked of decent enough quality. She supposed anyways. Was never an expert on smokeleaves and had only ever smoked them with a nargile and she wasn’t sure these ones could be used with one, nor she had a nargile on hand. Didn’t mean she couldn’t try making one. In any case, she figured she could use it for something or other.

The last thing she grabbed for another 2 gold, were a bunch of random trinkets that caught her fancy as gifts for everybody. It wasn’t anything overly special. No golds or precious stones, but it was all different kinds of hand crafted bracelets, necklaces or rings. Mostly wooden carvings, but some nice thread weaves too. She had bought something for everybody in her party and for the L’Roses. A pretty wodden carved hammer necklace with interesting designs and woven thread for Kathryn, A bracelet with carvings of birds and animals for V. A necklace decorated with carved fishies for Berry and a pair of bracelets with floral rose motives for the L’Roses. All in all, a good haul, so now Kosara was skipping back in search of the wagons, her bags heavier with spices and trinkets!!! A good adventuring day indeed!

[Shoe Thief]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kathryn Pyke Human, Fighter (Rune Knight), Level 05 HP: 39 / 49 Armor Class: 19 Conditions: N/A Location: Southmoor Village Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Kathryn returned to the wagons without much incident. A few children gave her looks of curiosity but that was something she was used too. She simply gave them a wave and a friendly smile as she walked her way back to the wagons. Children were rarely nefarious in that regard. Blunt, maybe. But almost never malicious. Kathryn was tall, powerfully built, and something that stuck out in many cultures, she was a woman in heavy armor. A noble woman at that. Though that last point wouldn't be obvious. And for those who did know, her legitimacy was very questionable at this time. But Kathryn had long ago accepted that she would never return to power, or to the life of nobility. Not for a lack of trying though.

At the age of nine, she had to plea her family's case amongst the noble courts. Though her uncle was present for a short bit there, he wasn't much help. No one in court liked him. He fought with the old clans, up jumped into nobility. He was crude and violent. And he scared those in the court to such a degree that whenever he spoke, guards would level their weapons. After seeing what had happened to young Arthur, how even though he had survived the fighting, his body so ruined that the claims of "Monster" traveled through the court with little resistance. That didn't even address the lineage problem. Her uncle was her mom's brother. Her mom came from a landless clan, that had been up jumped into landless knights of the realm. Attempting to squeeze their way as household knights for generations. And it wasn't until they joined into her Father's family that things began to look up for them. To add to it, he was a child born out of marriage. Making any legitimate claim to a family name, especially Kathryn's family name, that much harder to defend. So it had to be Kathryn, at the age of nine, defending her family name. For all the good it did.

During that period, several attempts on her life had been taken. Twice with an assassin, both of whom her uncle dealt with. Once with poison, also dealt with by her uncle. Though this time not through violence. Once she had almost been pushed out a window, saved by Ser Lucas in the process. And another time she had been challenged to a duel. To everyone's surprise, including her own, she had come out on top. By the end of it all, her family were still declared unnatural monsters, and were deemed guilty of all crimes. Her lands to be forfeited to the Codswealth family. The days after that declaration were a blur, but there was a lot of running. A lot of panicking. That was when open season was declared on herself and her uncle. Though she made it out, he was far from as lucky. The next few years were spent in hiding. Sometimes with other noble families, sometimes common inns. In some cases mercenaries and household guards would come after her and Ser Lucas. Other times they could go year without any sign of them. Now she wasn't even in the same continent anymore. And it had been years.

Apart of her wondered if she should change her name? Out this far few would know what Pyke meant. And chances are those who did, would want to know more on why she was using the name, or what family she was apart of. Surface level answers could buy time, but as a whole she would need to think of something long term. Maybe changing her name or adopting a new formal name would be best? All her legals papers had her old family name on there. So she would need new papers... But that would mean completely giving up her linage. Something she struggled with the idea of. Even accepting it was a life she would never get back, she couldn't help but still cling to it. She had no supporters back home, no family to go back too, and yet, she still clung to a life that did not want her. Plus, it wasn't like she had citizenship in another land. She'd hold a comparable status to a serf of a peasant. Not that is was a bad thing, but it was harder to go back from that then the life of an outcast noble. She decided that she would make a decision over the winter. She wasn't totally sure what her plan was, but she was going to be sheltered up all winter, and have time to think a lot of things over. Maybe someone could help her with that while they waited out the snow? That would be helpful for sure.

Kathryn took a seat in the wagon. Deciding that she should ride the rest of the way instead of walk. Should she come to regret this, she would likely never ride in a wagon again. But she was ready to slow down for a bit. Ready to stop worrying. Ready to not be a total panic and a wreck waiting to happen. She was ready to relax, and get comfortable. She did listen with intrigue as BB listed of his theories on what caused the abnormal activities of their new bug foes. "I have doubts on it being out ever so pleasant town guards. Though we should keep an eye and an ear out for them. Best guess, they got cast out and desperate. Maybe a new pack leader didn't like them, or their next got too cramped. Or, maybe a tiefling came into their nest shaking the earth telling them all in a booming voice that she was going to cook and eat them all?" Kathryn joked with a sweet grin on her face. But she could 100% see Kosara doing that now. Especially since she's already seen her doing it! "Oh most this stuff will keep just fine with a little bit of salt, maybe we could also smoke it or turn it into stew. We have plenty of preservation options when it comes to meat products. The shells should last far longer then that too. But maybe selling would be a good idea. I am not in a huge rush for coin myself, but it could be nice to have some extra cash on hand yeah?" Kathryn asked inquisitively.

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Southmoor Action: Ritual Casting Phantasmal Steed Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff Reaction: N/A

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The grand entrance left the impression that Victoria was going for, that being the social equivament of shock and awe. It was her forte, and often the overt nature of being flashy and potentially approachable served a more pragmatic purpose. The query posed to Cecily concerning soap was spoken loud enough to be clearly heard by those who were gathered around to see her performance, and she got her answer from multiple sources. More than that, Victoria was directed personally to a specific spot within a marketplace area to acquire said goods.

In the interest of maintaining these positive reactions, Victoria declined to animate her favorite Morty from its place within the wagon. (He didn't always make the best impression.)

Soap was on Victoria's shopping list, and whatever other sundries of personal attention might reveal themselves to her in the marketplace. The end of Harvestide left a few places wanting for product and others in over-produced or over-ordered abundance. She was able to readily locate a package of smallish, paper-wrapped soaps made with local, seasonal wildflowers. Scents of Avonshire's changing year wafted from the package as Victoria gave a satisfied smile, handing over her coins without a hint of reservation or the intent to haggle. "These are absolutely delightful, shopkeep!" she beamed as she accepted the basket of floral, aromatic goods.

Quite unexpectedly, something caught Victoria's eye. It was more than she wished to spend in this place, but it was an expense which she might easily afford. Another luxury item, of course, but in and of itself a necessary reminder of civilization: A tea set. Nothing particularly grand, not a thing which might grace the tables of landed gentry, but a respectable, functional, charming-in-its-folksy-craftsmanship set of cups, kettle, and a few small, associated pieces. Victoria acquired these at what she considered a deal, and threw in a little more silver for a respectable supply of packaged tea and a couple jars of honey. And by "respectable", the oft extroverted Bard acquired enough to sparingly last her the winter, in what limited variety a town like this might provide.

In what amounted to a the mental equivalent of a shrug, Victoria noted a group of stout young men loading a few barrels of an ale she recognized from her time spent at Neil & Bob's Public House back in the Township. A brief smile, a few choice words, and a few well placed coins later - one of the barrels began to make its way, via local couriers (though that might be a generous word to describe them), to the wagon. Victoria placed a silver coin into each of their hands, bidding, "Spare me a thought, gentlemen, as you raise the first glass this silver brings you tonight." The thought did occur that, unlike Victoria herself who was quite the vinophile, others in her party would have to ease themselves into only having wine available.

The time for her Phantasmal Steed's presence in the world was nearing completion. She could feel the ebb of magic as the spell wound itself down, and did not wish for its absence quite yet. Impressions had been established, and Victoria felt that it would really be a letdown to this impression were she to exit at the front of a the refurbished army wagon gifted to them by the Sheriff. To this, she spent the next handful of minutes with her recently acquired ritual book and reinforced her steed with more wizardly energies, essentially recasting the spell and changing none of the parameters. The great, hauntingly eye-catching riding animal was hers for another stretch of time, which would put them exiting the town in the same manner as they entered. Victoria wondered how she might vary the appearance of the creature in subsequent castings and vowed to experiment with this over the coming winter. Perhaps a semitransparent horse with wispy, ghostlike edges and a pronounced, opaque skeleton. Or something more like obsidian, with cracks of necrotic energy pulsing about its muscled form. It was worth study and experimentation.

[Arty Fox]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Baronfjørd "Blackberry" Chedgusah Dragon Born, Monk (Astral self), Level 05 HP: 40 / 40 Armor Class: 16 Conditions: N/A Location: SouthMoor Action: Questioning the Locals Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A Ki: 3/5

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

While waiting for the others to return from their various own shopping trips BlackBerry stayed with the wagons, and kept the Old Boy company. Occasionally he gave a polite wave or small greeting to the crowd that had formed around them, drawn in by both curiosity and the aforementioned bards display of musical prowess. With the idea they would be staying with Madame L’Rose at her Vineyard for a while, to BlackBerry’s mind, the least they could do would be to get to the bottom of the Ankheg business. Thankfully while the crowd had dispersed after the novelty of their arrival had worn off there were still plenty milling around either trying to look into the wagon from a distance, or simply minding their own business in the late afternoon.

This was the perfect time for him to start asking a few questions and given the willingness they had answered Victoria on where to fin soap he assumed they would be fairly helpful. Leaning against the wagon he looked about for someone who looked like they might know something, preferably someone who looked like a farmer or another farmhand. But just as BlackBerry had spotted his prey Lady Kathryn returned from her shopping and alighted upon the Wagon seat. From the ground he waved away her dismissal of his own theories.

“Mark my words, Lady Kathryn. Such a sort as those ruffians are liken to bad pennies if they are not dealt with one way or another.” He grimaced at the grim thought, he then added. “However, we may hope that when they do they have seen the error of their ways. But if you would excuse me for a moment.”

With Lady Kathryn back the wagon and the Old Boy were in safe hands for BlackBerry to do his own little wanderings. His targets, three in all, were directly opposite to where the wagons were parked and while all three appeared to be minding their own business chatting to one another, BlackBerry had seen their curious glances and gestures to the group. Time to politely pester the locals. BlackBerry just hoped this time would go better than it had in Avonshire.

Several minutes later BlackBerry returned to the wagon chewing his thumb-claw and his eyes jumping around in thought. Leaning on the Wagon seat with his elbow he then gave a deep sight before he spoke up at Lady Kathryn again.

“All right perhaps best to leave my words unmarked at this point and leave any bets off for now. I asked the gentlemen back there a few questions as to the current situation. As luck would have it they are local so were fairly helpful. Firstly, It seems that, other than ourselves, there have been no new comers of note lately, nor even any monsters moving into the area.” He gave a dissatisfied click of the tongue and he began tapping the wooden seat as he continued. “And secondly, it is as Mister Barbal and yourself explained earlier that being Ankhegs are not uncommon to this area are fairly docile during these months. Even Mister Tarace mentioned that they normally eat dirt.”

“But.” He held up a finger for emphasis. “Those beasts attacked us, which the gentlemen were quite surprised to hear I might add. It does appear that only Mister Laurent has been having the unfortunate stroke of luck recently with the beasts. Though I wonder if that would change in the coming weeks if something is not done.”

He resumed tapping upon the wooden seat again in thought and noted his thoughts tended to be on the grim side rather a lot as of late.

[Sigil]

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Rose River Vineyard

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Coach House

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Weather: The winds are picking up, bringing with it the unmistakable tinge of colder air. Fall is falling; winter makes its approach

Time: Late afternoon. You still have the light, but not for very much longer.

Ambience: Wind blows over tall grasses and moves the occasional tree on what are the moors of the southern Avonshire region. The sun hangs lower in the sky to the west, providing a breathtaking view of the rolling hills, low vegetation, and hardy flowers which still showed their pinpricks of color dotting the landscape. Southmoor is behind you, and not too far away now sits the end result of your day-long journey.

*****

The southern road continued on for quite a way past Southmoor, but that was no longer the route taken by Cecily. Past the town lay a broad stone bridge which crossed the river, and past that a gentle split from the main road. While the southern road continued through the moors and to the mountains far beyond, Cecily expertly guided her wagon along this parting from the main with the surety of one who had made the trip on a regular basis. To emphasize the confirmation of a L'Rose homecoming, a smaller, not-quite-roadsign displayed for all to note that one was arriving at The Rose River Vineyards.

It seemed like nothing at first - simply another stretch of road painted with the colors of late afternoon - but the moment that the wagons crested the next rise, a veritable sea of still-green rows of vines, all cultivated to meander along regular segments of vertical framework, separated into differing areas and the road itself by low, rail fencing. It stretched as far as the hills allowed one to see, interrupted by the truly breathtaking bend of the river and, in the distance, a series of buildings culminating with what could only be described as a country mansion.

In hindsight, words were dropped and certain associations made concerning the Rose River Vineyard and its elder patriarch, the enigmatic and quite deceased Monsieur L'Rose. The wine was notable across this region and others, the family had smaller, related ventures around Avonshire and had some holdings (like the Hayloft). Even the more recent confession that the vineyard employed half of the people of Southmoor and a lot of the surrounding villages gave a proper hint. But the actual wealth of the L'Rose family, at least in sheer land and holdings, was vastly underestimated by context. In short, the elder L'Rose was (prior to his death) positively loaded.

The wagons' approach, once it got much nearer to the Big House proper, was noted and kicked off a flurry of movement from what remained of the service staff during what was essentially the main "off season". There was still a bit of time before crossing into the homestead portion of the estate, and so Cecily filled in the time with a little bit of a speech. "Most of our people have been dismissed until springtime proper, but we still have a base staff available for upkeep over the cold months. Not to say that we aren't still producing," she added, motioning in a grand, sweeping gesture at the cultivation nearer to the estate house, which still hung heavily with fat, white-green grapes, some of which looked like they were in early stages of withering. "We still have our late harvest and icewine grapes left to pick and process. And the little holidays we observe here." She smiled wistfully, describing, "With the new Icewine production comes the tasting from that day, five years prior. It's kind of a tradition. Oh! And of course, you'll be there through Frostival, too!"

Lizbeth added, "Yeah! Everyone thinks that the Zinnoberrot is the best wine we have, but the Honigblume - the Late Harvest Honigblume Icewine - is the sweetest white there is. Other wine people who visit have no idea how the grapes stay good while the vines wither in the snow, but we're the only vineyard that can do it." She seemed especially proud of this. It practically beamed across her face.

Cecily supported her niece's statement by continuing, not without her own touch of pride, "They are my favorites, too. But I think I like the Icewine a little bit more. From a grower's standpoint, even with seasonal product loss and almost nonexistent insect damage, we still get over a ninety-five percent crop yield. No other growers in the region have our numbers. Sometimes it feels like magic, but it's just good agriculture."

A little further up the drive, Cecily directed the cart away from the main complex. There were a couple of waves from the scattering of people noting their arrival, and two laborers started at a run to meet up with the wagons a little closer to their destination. Said destination, in this case, was what appeared to be a moderately sized, two story building with a walled-off courtyard and attached stable. "This is our Coach House," she explained. "In times past, it used to be an Inn, before the L'Roses expanded their holdings to include this area. Now it is a perfectly serviceable place for long term guests, even if it hasn't had much use in recent years. I've had the building cleaned and stocked for your stay with us. You should find ample firewood and provisions, fresh food, and a full stock of wines at your disposal. Everything will be refreshed weekly by our staff. Feed and stabling for your mule will be provided and the animal will be exercised with our work stock regularly. The well water is clean and safe. And, I shall have a clawfoot bathtub moved into the building for you before the week is out."

The two laborers caught up to the wagon and offered to handle the loading and unloading of supplies, personal or otherwise. After a brief conversation, Cecily turned back to the group, informing, "I am told that we are running behind at the main house and cannot accommodate you with a big 'Welcome Dinner' this evening. There is a lovely repast inside, comprised of roasted pheasant, pumpkin soup, and brown bread. And paired wines, naturally. Please take the evening to unwind and I shall make sure you get the grand tour in the morning. And that proper welcoming feast I intended. Maybe a nice brunch, at the Big House? Well, I shall leave you to it."

From the vantage point at the Coach House was spectacular. It sat at equal elevation to the Estate House, yet was separated by a dip between smallish hills. It afforded an excellent view of the grounds, stretching out a far distance, and of the nearby river. Outbuildings looked tiny in the distance, and one could easily imagine this place in full swing during a busy season. This was a location that not only grew grapes of many varietals, but also made their wine and other products on site. The green of the vines carried a little farther into the autumn than was expected, and of course the late harvest grapes were still on the vines nearest to the Estate House. The wind picked up a bit more, prompting the laborers into action with whatever the party allowed them to unload.

"Aunt Ceecee?" inquired Lizbeth, looking very eager in the fading light of the day, "Would you mind very much if I stayed with The Ones Who Answered this evening? To ...help them settle in?" She was a little unconvincing.

"That is up to them, and it is an imposition to ask me with them standing right there. It is their house until Spring arrives." Cecily countered. "Well, if you are to stay here this evening, then you will be of service to our guests. Yes?" Lizbeth nodded her head. Cecily looked to the Adventurers and suddenly remembered, "Yes, and I will send Urmdrus to meet with you concerning your successful hunt after supper."

In a tidy amount of time, the sun began to slip further down in the sky. The aroma of roasted meat and hot soup called heartily to the group, and there was time to do a little exploration of their new, albeit temporary, home. The Coach House had three stories in total: A top floor with (semi) private quarters accessible by a set of exterior stairs, the ground floor with servants' quarters, a taproom, spacious and stocked kitchen, storage, stables, and a classic stone well. A set of stout stairs led down from behind the bar to a smallish but clean cellar, for all of their cellar-ing needs.

Lizbeth, apparently choosing to stay until she specifically heard a NO, busied herself plating meals for everyone in the old taproom and began stoking a proper blaze in a nearby fireplace. "Get it while it's still toasty!"

She never once removed the shortsword from her belt. Not once the entire time.