Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Sigil
Edit last post for spelling?

@Sigil
Edit last post for spelling.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Wagon, pointed northward Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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Others began to share snatches of illumination of their own homes, but unlike Victoria, they also told a little about themselves in the process. It was good to see these people in a more personal light than that which made them useful to one another. If it came down to it, she could do quite well not knowing anything about her fellow adventurers in any real, personal sense, provided that they get their objective completed and she got another step closer to her own goals. It was, in fact, the reason why she took to the road and got into these little adventures; like many who walked this sort of path, Victoria had her own motivations. Things she had to accomplish. Things which, if the details were fully known, might make others see her in a very different light. But her usual nature put her somewhere in the arena of talkative, inquisitive, even garrulous in the right circumstances. Wine helped. Her more natural personality started to edge into the fore, and quickly she found herself smiling, with mouth slightly agape, ready to share a few words about herself and not just a vague description of home, as others had done.

Of course, common sense stopped her. Not that Victoria possessed an overabundance of it, as she had proven to herself not amazingly long ago, but this feeling of self-preservation gripped her with sudden, icy fingers. She closed her mouth and frowned slightly. Victoria would have to be profoundly less sober and/or feel much safer around these people to divulge certain things about herself. Instead, she put her mind to an interesting and humorous moment in her past to help bring about a contented expression, and refocused her efforts toward the job at hand.

This moment's job at hand involved quietly giving Kosara driving pointers as she led the wagon along. Travel was interesting at times, considering the inexpert nature of the person whose hands were on the reins, but the mule seemed to be an experienced carting animal that knew enough from sheer repetition of routes. Things eventually turned into something of a lull as traffic around them became less during the northward leg of their journey to the Township. Trees cropped up with greater frequency around the road; not quite a fully wooded locale but enough to provide on again, off again light shade from the sun above, cutting off what warmth might still be had from its radiance. Soon enough though, a stillness seemed to take hold of their surroundings.

Victoria was not the first one to notice the sounds coming from ahead. When she did, she breathed a raspy, "Shh shh shh..." tilting her head slightly and taking the reins for just a moment to stop the forward progression of the wagon. The now alert Bard removed her very Bard-y hat and held it up to the side of her head, making an analog attempt to increase the range of her hearing. Whether or not it actually helped, a concerned look formed on her face. She bit her lower lip and peered ahead, hoping to catch something, anything that might clue her in to what was going on.

The breeze, mostly low and calm, kicked up just enough to rustle some leaves about, providing just enough of an opportunity to catch a glimpse ahead, into the unknown. "Curse those trees," she mumbled. Projecting a clearer (but quiet) voice, Victoria enunciated, "A wheel. Sideways, like a cart tipped over. I thought I saw an arm with yellow-green skin, and... hmm." She listened for a moment longer, "And a language I do not know. I know the Common tongue, Elven, and the base language of Orcs, but this?" She shrugged, "Laughter and gibberish to me. I am sorry I cannot tell you more."

Victoria placed her hat down into the wagon with the rest of her belongings and looked to her preserved pig of burden. This appeared to be a hiccup in their otherwise uneventful day trek to the Township of Avonshire.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Lewascan2

First up - Rapid Reader has missed the cutoff point for posting and has been removed from this RP. No hard feeling on this end, and I wish the best moving forward. Suffice it to say, we're down a druid.

Now, to business:

The collective passive perception was more than enough to pick out that something unusual is going on. The details are fuzzy as hell, but there we are. As the only person actively attempting to perceive, @Lewascan2 may roll in the Discord OOC to try and beat their passive perception rating to get more information on what is going on.

As for the rest of us, it looks like we have a minor mystery on our hands and some decisions to make. Roll them bones, people!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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The sun made it high into the sky, eliminating the frost which remained upon the drier grass of the season. Traffic upon the road, while not extremely crowded in the first place, had slacked into noticing the occasional local cart upon the road. More often one might notice the occasional laborer applying their profession to a large section of cultivated land, the ubiquitous straw hat and loose clothing serving as uniform to distinguish them from traveler or landowner alike. Things seem to be passing by at a constant, unexciting rate, relaxing if one is the type to enjoy long stretches of countryside going through the changes associated with the Autumn season.

While the occasional biting wind still blew across the rolling hills of Avonshire, overall temperatures relaxed into something significantly more bearable than the chill which the early morning brought to everyone. Heavier clothing could be put aside if so desired, though even the ambient temperature below a midday sun served to remind that summer was assuredly in the past. The sky was mostly clear, with cirrus clouds sparingly putting a translucent lens over the cool sunlight above.

Midday came and left; whether the decision to pull off of the road for a quick meal was made or food was partaken while in transit, things went along swimmingly and without incident from any exterior source. The mule appeared to be in decent spirits and physical vigor, thoroughly uninterested in he world around it except for its purpose to continually pull the wagon to which it was attached forward.

After a time, a simply designed but decently enough crafted signpost stood out among the numerous smaller side roads coming away from the main trade route. This one stood in a recessed position from the road yet easily visible, with only the slightest hint of weathering upon it. The road led north, into a area which showed increasing density of trees. Broad leaves of yellow and orange littered the ground here both on and off of the road, opportunistic winds tossing them about every so often. While enough leaves were on the ground as to make a mosaic of autumn color, the trees themselves still looked thick and full for the most part.

In fact, things seem to be humming along so smoothly that it is a bit of a shock when, upon cresting a rise in the road, the sounds of jabbering and laughter can be heard from somewhere ahead. The angle from the rise, combined with the canopy of warm, fall colors prevent a useful line of sight, but you can definitely hear something out of place, even if you can't tell precisely what it is.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Wagon, driving westward Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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A warm smile formed effortlessly across Victoria's face (as if it naturally belonged there as a permanent feature) when Kosara climbed up onto the driver's bench. The enthusiasm which she showed at the prospect of wagoneering practice was heartwarming. Victoria was ever the fan of picking up new pieces of knowledge and appreciated when others around her showed the same inclination. The magic-bearing Tiefling showed a desire to not just be the person in the driver's seat, but actually absorb the knowledge that was presented her. This made the young half-fey happy. Despite inclinations to win over crowds and put on stellar performances, Victoria felt she would always have a stigma associated with her and the specific talents she possessed. Having someone who knew what she was and still be excited to share a seat so closely with her was comforting.

Being as this was supposed to be a teachable moment, Victoria attempted to assume a more headmistress-ly quality to her voice and mannerisms. She failed, of course. The words were a little too warm and a touch happier than they ought to have been. But it was a noteworthy and humorous attempt. "Take the reins now, okay?" She motioned at other folk about town, singling out a man who appeared to be a merchant or shopkeeper of some kind who was about to set off in their own pulled conveyance. She pointed out the local method of getting the animals to move, be it a motion with the reins, one-syllable utterance, or both. Beasts trained to the harness tended to have similar signals for obedience, though variations existed. "Other than that, it's about knowing what your wagon can or can't do, and small corrections only when necessary. The hard part is knowing when." Animals, especially horses and mules, were pretty good at handling themselves around big obstacles when attached to a wagon. Other times, Victoria might have sworn they were as dumb as a sack of flour.

As their trip set off, the itinerant Bard was a little nervous as Kosara brought them through the open gates leaving the fort town of Darenby, admittedly giving a suggestion or two with more nervousness in her voice than she wished to show. But everything came out okay. This didn't stop her from breathing out a sigh of relief when they were out into relatively open ground. This, she kept quiet. "You're doing great!" she assured.

Victoria took note of who decided to climb into the wagon and who did not, making an attempt to keep herself available for conversation as she was able to. Priority went to instructing Kosara, of course; otherwise social availability was a strength which she exercised religiously. Brief words about home from a couple of them, which naturally made her think of her own. First, she took a note from Marita. Given the interesting backstory and her own sense of curiosity, she was piqued. Kathryn's origins based upon descriptions gave her some suspicions; probably closer to her home city than anyone else's here. Kosara's she knew, more or less, from style of dress and dances. Plus she told everyone outright. Then desert native said a couple of things which made Victoria stop her train of thought with a muffled crash. "Festival of anim... Kind of." She glanced to Morty in the back of the wagon, continuing, "My Morty took that walk not too long ago. They're being taken to a butcher to be smoked and/or cured to feed families over the winter. Properly preserved, those pigs can last all year. Maybe longer. If we're ever at a point that we're starving, Morty might even be able to save our lives." She smiled. This was probably not the best case scenario for her new party to ponder. Practically speaking, it was a versatile resource to have at their disposal. This also explained why the beast did not have the scent of decomposition about it - quite differently, it smelled faintly of bacon and woodsmoke.

Apathetic to the words spoken about itself, Morty stood silently in the back of the wagon, its hollow stare seemingly giving no regard to those sitting around it.

Continuing with Kosara, Victoria mentioned, "Another month or so until we get to winter. I'm not sure exactly when the snows come around here, but back home it would only be a couple more weeks. Five on a warm year." Being that the weather was progressing a little sooner according to the people back in Darenby, Victoria really had no idea when it might be in Avonshire. "As for the snowmen..." Her smile turned to mischief, "I don't think that happens naturally. But we're both distinguished ladies of The Weave. I'm sure we can figure out something."

Shifting to the side and looking back in the wagon, Victoria followed up on a piece of conversation she had taken note of just earlier. "My home is a journey north from here. Buildings, big houses, walls. Libraries. Trade; lots of trade and influence from many cultures. Trees in parks and along wide streets, manicured by professional gardeners. Four crisp and distinctly separate seasons." Then taking a point on a specific declaration, she looked dead at Marita. "Your home doesn't sound like any place I've been yet. Could you tell me more, please?"

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Rapid Reader@Lewascan2

To reiterate my sentiments from the Announcements section in the Avonshire Discord:

This will mostly be a posting round to establish marching order and get in some travel conversation, if that's your thing. Make plans for when you get to the Township, discuss bread recipes, braid each other's hair, discuss your backstories, whatever. If you have plans for specific things, great! Let me know and I'll pass along what your nefariousness has gotten you. We'll get in a roll for random encounters, have lunch, you know - make a day of it. Past this we get to the fun stuff.

Because of the holidays, everyone has a two day extension. Feel free to post as much as you want to, being as we're talking dialogue and travel time, but don't feel rushed. Maybe work on a collab or two with your fellow players. You've got some more wiggle room now. To clarify: 9 day counter this posting round. And have a Merry Christmas. Or Blessed Yule. Whatever works for you.

In short, have fun with the next round of posting, do whatever you need to do (within reason) because after the holidays have more or less passed, we're hopping into the meat of out little adventure. Thank you for sticking with this, I'm glad you decided to join me on whatever manner of story this turns into - adventure, fantasy, horror, crime drama - or some unholy mixture of the four with a few extra ingredients.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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The wagon departing with the party is most certainly not the only one leaving Darenby and headed west. Most of the others are larger, merchant affairs, though many are personal conveyances a little smaller than the solders' wagon lent to the group. This is a well traveled road by the standards of the time; many shod hoofprints and wheel marks could be seen on the road, brown dirt contrasted against rough stone and ruts carved into otherwise packed clay or gravel being the norm, showing the passage of vehicles over time.

Rolling hills stretch across the landscape, dotted with trees showing the ironically warmer colors of autumn or bravely holding out with more verdant tones against the coming cold. The sun stands boldly in the sky, doing its best against the fresh frost of the night. Places of shade still show the opaque dusting of crystalline white, reminding those who look upon it that the weather is indeed turning. This was a threat well heeded by the farmers of the region, who even then ran about their fields with as much help as they could muster in these early hours, inspecting their harvests of fruit, grain, and vegetables. They picked and stored what they could and did their utmost to protect that which needed just a little bit longer. At the end of Harvestide all of this would be complete and the winter preparations would commence.

Those versed in agriculture would also recognize the death march of pigs and large domestic animals. Others would simply see a number of different locals leading livestock up the road in rope trains or groups of crated pigs in the back of heavy wagons, getting onto the road for just long enough to take them to the nearest village which featured organized butchering, else in the case of smaller operations they might handle it themselves. The creatures mostly looked bored, unaware they were being marched to their inevitable deaths and subsequent conversion into foodstuffs.

The journey deeper into the region of Avonshire was beginning to show ample reason as to how it got its name, for any linguists that were wondering. Cutting amid the rolling hills were streams and tributaries which broke off from one or more rivers which flowed unerringly toward the sea. Ponds dotted the landscape as well, some smallish and some lakes in their own right. One of the later groups of migrating waterfowl could be seen gathering atop the glassy surface of one such body of water, only to take off en masse as some local kid tossed a stone into the midst of them, resulting on a plop, splash, and great rustle of feathers.

Avonshire is not an especially large place, though even one poorly versed in farmcraft can tell that this place is likely responsible for food production covering a disproportionately larger population.

The wagon rolled along, occasionally passed by those traveling east and sometimes sharing a stretch of road with those moving in the same direction as themselves. Hats were tipped, the occasional "Howdy" uttered by Humans and Halflings alike. The sightings of people occured in waves, usually predicting the existence of a village or hamlet over the next rise. Fishing poles dotted lines in the waters of ponds and streams despite the sudden onset of colder weather, indeed it seemed to spur the fisherfolk on. Between these waves of scant to moderate population the land stretched out to seemingly infinite proportions. This was an idyllic piece of countryside with honest, hardworking folk and passing merchants alike - truly an excellent place to retire or raise a family. And yet, far too many of these good and wholesome people had a metaphorical shadow over their faces; the outward signs that they detected, if only subconsciously, that something insidious was afoot in their little section of prosperity.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: The Infamous Pear -> Wagon Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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Victoria was happy that Kosara seemed to like her new, colder weather ensemble. If there was something that Victoria prided herself upon, it was a sense of style. Granted, she prided herself for many things, so this was pretty much status quo for her. Nevertheless, she did have a decent grasp on the concept of style. As a testament to this, the now opened chest (being the sole item in the small errand-cart and taking up most of its room) contained - among other things - neatly folded and accessorized articles of clothing of differing cuts and colors, and a cosmetics case that looked considerably too elaborate for simple touch-ups.

She put her new acquisitions from the market into the chest and closed it back tight, breathing out a sigh of disappointment. Not every venture about town was successful. Attempts at utilizing her meager grasp on Necrotic energies to achieve the epicness of Bardic Sausagekinesis were unsuccessful. She kept it subtle, but all that Victoria got was an odd look from the proprietor that thankfully was passing in nature. A quick purchase and a charming smile smoothed things over nicely.

Ideas on how to acquire the power to do such a feat were beginning to swirl about in her head when she heard the sudden outpouring of gratitude from Kosara. The first of a more genuine smile began to form as she began to turn back around, completely not expecting the sudden and inescapable snuggle from the happy Tiefling lady. "AHH!" It wasn't a graceful nor endearing sound, though one might infer from the tone that she probably had a decent enough singing voice. This was pure surprise which was illustrated by the expression on her face and an initial grab for her dagger.

A half second later she understood that this was affection and not an attack. Still, Victoria was in a mild state of shock. This was physical contact. Positive physical contact, which honestly freaked her out for a moment. A second or two passed and she began to blush, hands shaking slightly as she returned the embrace. She bore the weight of repeated thank yous, smiling and giving the lady a return squeeze. It was nice. Victoria was content to hold this for a time. Until her sense of self-consciousness crept back into her forebrain. She didn't know if she was holding this snuggle for longer than what was socially acceptable and did not want to risk it as nobody knew her here. Nobody really knew her, period, when it came down to it. Keeping a distance, despite her occupation as a Bard, served to protect her from things she hadn't the heart to tell others. So, still with a touch of red in her face, Victoria slipped her arms from around Kosara and stepped back. Looking in her eyes she stammered, "Yes, you're, ah... welcome, Kosara. Really. Quite welcome." The smile returned, but she turned her head to return to her belongings.

This looked like an act of shyness, which she had shown absolutely no part of at any point in time before this. Uncharacteristic, one might assume. Victoria glanced back with a smile, but kept to her work. She pulled on her charcoal cloak, which hung heavily across her frame, swept up her hat (matching of color except for the plumage), and snapped her fingers in Morty's direction. The hickory-smoked beast lumbered up, took to the tiny cart, and followed as Victoria strode outside, backpack and violin in hand, into the cooler morning air.

It didn't take but a moment to convince a pair of strapping young men to affix the oiled canvas enclosure to the top of the wagon for her. It took a quick smile to convince them to also lift her cart and pig (now un-animated) into the wagon as well, and she even let loose a "Please?" to convince one of them to hold the door to The Infamous Pear open just long enough so that Victoria could call inside, "C'mon! The day isn't getting any longer! I want to see what happens next!" Curiosity drew her forward more than anything else except for maybe the promised reward waiting upon their return.

When the opportunity presented itself, Victoria looked to Kosara and slid over in the driver's bench, patting the seat next to her. "Do you still want to learn to drive a wagon?" Victoria recalled that she had said so earlier. "I am happy to teach."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Sigil
Aw, hell. DM, permission to edit typo in my last post? It's annoying me more than it should.

@Sigil
Sure, go ahead. Don't start any trouble this time.

@Sigil
Thanks, will do.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: The Infamous Pear Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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Incensed at the tactless yet entirely accurate accusation launched at her by the Sheriff's stand-in, Victoria raised her eyebrows and crossed her arms in front of her in a manner that hinted at eventual retaliation, were this to continue. But as things seemed to be formed of stress and not entirely aggravation from her lapse into opportunism the day before, she wordlessly accepted the woman's apology. Even smiled at her, despite herself.

The next such annoyance, and really it was a continued annoyance rather than a new development, was the apparent and utter lack of anyone in the group possessing any knowledge whatsoever about operating a vehicle over a path; cobblestone, dirt, or other. It vexed her that people accustomed to a traveling lifestyle never got around to picking up a more efficient means of conveyance than placing one foot in front of another. She understood the Druid's situation, or at least thought that she did. There was likely very little drawing of cargo wagons through the close trees and dense underbrush of untamed woodlands. And while being able to get into the heads of the animals in question sounded amazingly useful, Victoria's trust extended only to that which she could lead by rein or mental command. The latter, of course, really only applied if the creature in question was dead, however.

Now that gave Victoria pause. The boar she had as a constant companion was a more hale and hearty creature than most mules (prior to its conversion to its present state of existence) and she was able to dictate its actions just fine. Perhaps the best way to ensure the animal's complete and utter compliance was to poison the creature or stop its heart, then allow her natural talents to bring it to do what they did best. But this wasn't her mule. And she did make a promise to Marita that she would only animate things which she acquired lawfully. So this posed a challenge. Hypothetically.

It turned out that there was a little time before they were to set off proper toward their mission, and with the possibility of getting some shopping under her belt, Victoria showed a little glint to her eye. First, she snagged a loaf of bread and wedge of cheese from the table, as well as a small pot of honey, squirreling it into her belongings. There was no sense in leaving it there when it was paid for and she really didn't want to break into her traveling rations unless she had to. This would make an acceptable lunch. Then the pulled out her dagger once more and impaled another baked apple. Yes, it was cooler now than freshly served, but she didn't care. It was yummy. But to shopping! It shouldn't take long, and she had given the town a quick once-over a couple of days ago. She knew where the marketplace was, if not specific stores.

Next, Victoria sized up Kosara. She really gave her a once-over, never giving explanation for why and being a little conspicuous about it. Then she smiled, mentioned that she would "Just be a little bit," and walked over to Lynette. Apparently, she was next. "Oh, hi! Yeah, hello. Look, I really hope that your day gets better, and it might just a soon as we make out way outside of those gates, right? I'll go a lot faster if you help me find a couple of things." Lynette nodded, and Victoria pressed her requests. "First off, I need to find a bell. I know, it's a little different. But I need one. Another thing I need..."

The orchid-clad Bard leaned in close to the woman and whispered the rest of her list, which provoked a look of interest, then incredulity. "What? A butcher? Are you sure that can help?"

"Mmm hmm!" came the immediate and spirited response from Victoria, complete with a bobbing nod of her head. The innocent joy on her face belied the more interesting machinations within her mind. Wishing to be done with this part of her day, Lynette provided directions to a couple of places near to each other in Darenby's fine mercantile area. Taking a huge bite out of her apple, still upon her shorter blade, Victoria strode out into the colder morning.

For approximately a half hour or so, maybe as long as forty-five minutes, Morty the Pig sat silently in the corner of the room, acting as silent sentinel to the tiny cart which held many of Victoria's belongings. After this time, the errand-running Bard returned. She bore with her a bell shaped object wrapped carefully with a soft cloth which also prevented the item from making its percussive call. But this wasn't the most obvious thing she had. A new leather pouch hung from her belt, small but notable, rather out of the way. Again, not the most obvious. What WAS the most obvious was a great package wrapped up in a dark cloth and tied with twine. This she sets down in front of Kosara and insisted, "Okay, don't be mad." This was probably not the best way to open things. Victoria quickly explained, "You're taller than I am, but I figure we're about the same size and I'm worried about you freezing to death, so..."

The twine was swiftly untied with a deft pull and cloth pulled away. Springing forth from this great reveal was a coat. It was long, stretching down comparably to most robes, and made of rich, dark grey wool. It had a sizeable hood, which might have a little trouble navigating the Tiefling's horns without some alteration but should suitably protect her ears from the biting wind as is. The article of clothing was lined and trimmed in red fur, mottled with darker notes that brought to mind more vulpine sources. With it came a matching pair of boots and gloves. "A girl's got to accessorize, right? And if the cold kills you, I'll never learn how you dance like that." Never the selfless act, or the appearance of one, lest people think her a pushover.

Victoria gave a mischievous smile and shoved the cloth in a pocket, retreating to her belongings. There were a couple of things in the bundle for her as well, packaged separately, with telltale dark and purple notes (as fit her proclivities) which she had to sort away into her travel chest. It was time to pack things up and hit the road.