Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Lurking Krog

And we are good for another round. There was a lot more interaction between characters this time, prompting less in the way of NPC reactions. This is a good thing, sometimes, and makes sense considering that the party is all back together in one location. In any case, the scene cannot go on forever, hence Bob sounding Last Call. Wrap up what you need to within this place, get your last few rolls in for checks and the like, and be thinking about what the group is going to do next. There are options. Of course, it has also been a long day, what with the travel, fighting, unloading cargo, investigation, and heavy drinking (for some of you).

So... what do you do?

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Remains cold, just above freezing. Occasional light winds, picking up a little.

Time: Late.

Ambience: The fog is still thick, like puffy clouds clinging tightly to the earth. The large, one-phase-away-from-being-full moon diffused its light through with some effort. The town is in its last stages of closing down for the night, respectable and less respectable businesses, both, with lamps being extinguished except in the last of holdouts. The darkness is made more complete by the oppressive fog, preventing even darkvision from penetrating very far into the night.

Outside of Town: Most campfires are low and dark, reduced to coals which might be revived the next morning for breakfast cookery. It is quiet out there, in the fields around the Township, with the vast majority of people down for the evening. A few are still awake in differing stages of drunken torpor.

Neil & Bob's Public House

The Public House appears to be clearing out now. The exodus is helped in part this night by two of the most attractive and potentially disturbing women that this Township had witnessed thusfar. From both displays just inside of the front door, a possible broad opinion was that one of them was potentially demonic (and the other was a Tiefling). For better or for worse, the group will make the Avonshire rumormill come morning. But let's get to the details of the mess we're mired within.

Conversation is much easier to have now that people are clearing out. Tables are readily available, too. The bar area is now about halfway emptied, allowing for any number of social folks to amble up and take a seat; likewise the stage area is completely cleared. Perhaps this is why the whole place went silent when the incident occurred.

The attention paid to the semi-conscious man by Marita was taken as a kindness, with the poor guy beginning to reach a hand up to take whatever assistance he might from the benevolent and kindhearted Cleric. The start of a relieved smile crossed his face as he came to realize that, despite his very recent scare and trauma, someone was going to look out for him, soggy pants and all. This idea was thoroughly trounced when Kosara took a couple of steps back, using it as room to pick up speed before a grape-bursting pain, as sharp and invasive as a glass pinecone suppository, exploded from his nethers. The Human sat bolt upright, cross-eyed, screaming at the top of his lungs in an octave that was better suited to a childrens' choir singing about kittens; halfway through it began to gargle, soon to spew a projectile of boozeish liquid and once-semi-foodish chunks, which itself was cut off in a dramatic and toothy manner just prior to collapsing back to the wooden planks of the bar's flooring just inside of the door.

Lea stood, shocked and unspeaking. Robert looked utterly pissed off. The latter said nothing about the assault upon the prone man, but did growl out, "LAST CALL. Food's getting put up in five minutes. Booze is cut off in fifteen. Everyone out in a half hour who doesn't work here or have a bed."

As if on cue, Lawrence and Curly arrived back in the doorway to see a much less occupied establishment, an unconscious man with a damp crotch and a line of vomit leading back to him, partly clutching himself in his unconsciousness, a shocked bar staff, and a couple of unfamiliar faces. Also somehow beyond the capacity to verbally express a coherent thought, it was Maurice who piped up, "You missed all the fun, boys. C'mon, it's last call!"

"...good sprinkles..." finally mumbled Curly. The two of them stepped inside and returned to their table. Lawrence agreed. The two of them, like Maurice, were showing the effects of their evening celebrations.

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: Neil & Bob's Public House, Bar Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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The fact that Kathryn did not want another drink gave Victoria a touch of surprise, owing to memories of the last time they all sat down for supper and drinks. Not that she recalled the massively proportioned Knight lady being prone to keg stands, nor challenging people to feats of strength for free booze (none to which she had borne witness, anyway), but it just seemed off color for her. Maybe Kathryn was taking the investigation more seriously than herself. It made sense, Victoria had to admit. When she was part of another group of adventuring types, she mostly went along with the plans of more headstrong types and relied on her natural proclivities toward social interaction to get her through. And if Kat was the kind that took on a more professional demeanor when on-site, especially as compared to her, then this was probably a good thing.

Yet, despite the refusal of drinks, Victoria could not help but notice a fair amount of alcoholic beverages being assembled in front of the woman. She eyed it with some suspicion but said nothing, preferring a cocked eyebrow and slight head tilt to direct confrontation. Maybe a little smirk. Definitely a little smirk.

What did give Victoria a mote of concern was the assumption that Kosara and Hugh had followed. Were they not accounted for now? She had gone off with the L'Rose survivors only, to the best of her knowledge. This news was a little disconcerting. Almost as disconcerting that Marita was "working with the locals", even if those Cleric-y types leaned toward getting in good with the people. But to more serious affairs, Victoria hadn't seen Hugh since she left, and Kosara... A glance back in the direction of the door gave her a twinge of relief. The Tiefling woman had just arrived. And was administering aid to the person who had tried to (with his friends) solicit very non-consensual affection from her. Concern went to annoyance. This annoyance was followed up with a dismissive shake of her head when Marita got involved. For all Victoria cared, the man could be drug outside and piss himself, hopefully with the end result being that his own urine froze him to the wooden planking of the front porch and his dangling unmentionables got claimed by frostbite in the night. That thought brought a smile to the young Half-Elf's face.

Introductions were afoot, and so Victoria was bound by the guidelines of public engagement to respond accordingly. As the conversation began with words in the Common tongue of Humans, she answered in kind, "Well met, Sir Rickard Barriden," extending a hand to greet with a more formal air. Her way of speaking his honorific of Sir, much like her address of Kathryn earlier as Dame, was indicative of the area of her own upbringing. Victoria recalled mentioning her family's place of origin around the rest of the party earlier that day, admittedly being an easy thing to forget. In any case, her words shifted effortlessly to the tongue of the High Elves, her words flowing melodically from her with flawless pitch and accent, "It pleases and surprises me to see one of your lineage this far into Human lands. And I would be remiss, Knight of the Sylvan Realms, to miss an opportunity to converse in the speech of my ancestors." She giggled a little and reached for the decanter of wine and a glass upon the bar in front of them. If Kathryn was finished drinking for the evening, the Bard was certain that she wouldn't miss a glass of ...very fine wine... she realized, inhaling the vapors therein through her perky, slightly upturned nose. And if someone did happen to miss this wine, she had silver to compensate them.

A small sip and a satisfied smile later, Victoria continued speaking in Elven, "I lack, I notice, the fundamentals of manners when addressing a new acquaintance and beg your forgiveness. To repair; I am called Victoria Belmont, of the Ashhaven Belmont Clan, student of the Bardic College of the Grey Requiem. It is a pleasure, of course, to meet you." One thing to note from the presentation of her full name was that it was Human of origin, as was the city from which she claimed to hail, for those who had cause to travel to such places. Mixed ancestry could easily explain this, but it occasionally took people by surprise, for whatever reason.

Another smile, warm and cheerful. Another sip of wine, cool and sweet. Her crystal blue eyes studied this Elf as she attempted to puzzle out the coincidence of their meeting and attempt to ascertain whether this was a fortuitous event, or an obvious, bald-faced trap. In the end, Victoria shrugged. It was what it was, and the end result would reveal itself sooner or later. Victoria switched back to Common, saying, "I am sorry about your friend, Sir Barriden. The understanding is given that there are a few disappearances here as of late." She looked back to Kathryn with her glass of wine raised, declaring, "This is really good. Oh, don't mind that man on the floor. He deserves worse." Her smile returned, this time just as menacing as it was amused.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Lurking Krog

And we are back on track. Update is posted; again with my apologies on its lateness. Everyone has one additional day to get their posts in this posting cycle. Now, with that out of the way, a couple of caveats:

First, please forgive the terseness of this update. The issues which made this late are the same ones that are affecting the level of detail. Hopefully this will be better resolved by the next one.

Secondly, there is a discrepancy in word selection. In a previous post, I used the word "tankard" to describe the container of wine which was about to be served. The word I was groping for (and missed) was actually "decanter", as mentioned in this post. Apologies, these are two very different things in terms of usage and amount held.

Anyway, enjoy the post and the extra day to respond. Thanks!

EDIT: If I did not address something that I should have in this update, please message me privately and I will let you know and/or make an appropriate ruling. Thanks again.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Remains cold, just above freezing. Occasional light winds.

Time: It is now toward the later hours of the night.

Ambience: The fog is still thick, like puffy clouds clinging tightly to the earth. The large, one-phase-away-from-being-full moon diffused its light through with some effort. Places of illumination within the Township became even more infrequent as businesses which catered to the late night crowd closed up shop. The darkness is made more complete by the oppressive fog, preventing even darkvision from penetrating very far into the night.

Outside of Town: The roar of the flames almost drowns out the screams of the dying as the Lich King's forces push through, their unspeaking, undead forms bringing torture and demise to merchant and festival-goer alike.

Now that I've got your attention, take a breath. (Ahem) The camp and brazier fires around the temporary dwellings have dulled mostly to red-orange coals. Most of these people have turned in for the evening, anxious to return to the Harvest Festival the next day with a night of good rest and a clear head. A slim minority of them, however, have decided to stay up and drink some more.

Neil & Bob's Public House

Robert gave Marita a long look before shrugging nonchalantly. "No." It was flat and direct. "If you're done taking tips, that's fine by me. I'm sure Lea won't mind getting her tables back." Counting tips, Marita managed to secure for herself five silver coins of the realm, most of which was in copper coins. It was a generous haul for turning over four tables in a neighborhood watering hole, especially for someone without much experience tending tables.

As for Lea, she took a moment to stop by her temporary helper for the night (that would be Marita) and give a warm, generous thanks. "I really appreciate the help during the rush tonight, Miss Marita. Here," she says, pressing a few coins (3 silver) into her palm while making what appeared to merely be a friendly gesture. A little quieter, Lea suggested, "Have a glass of something nice on me, maybe?" before moving on to her duties around the taproom.

The taproom itself has taken on more of a subdued tone, with people finishing up their meals for the most part and many settling up. Finding an extra seat isn't an issue anymore for the alert for one. Those remaining seem to fall into two main camps: Regulars who stayed out a little later than they intended to, and others (local and otherwise) who have overindulged in drink. Scattered examples of other options remained, but they were not the norm.

A series of drinks were poured and set up in front of Kathryn. Her ale, of course, and Curly's ale, in addition to the refill of the pitcher asked about earlier. Lawrence's insistence on getting Kat "the best stuff in the house" was taken to heart. As it had not been poured yet, Robert took the opportunity to fill a carafe with the heady, vermilion-colored wine that the party had rescued earlier that very day from aggressive Goblin-folk, and plunked four glasses onto the bar around it.

The center table still housed Maurice, who glanced every so often to the door, expecting his friends to show up any at moment. He had been one of the first to notice the hubbub at the front door, and seemed glued to the area now to see what happened next.

As for the guy who passed out at the doorway - he appeared to be easy enough to rouse. Eyes fluttered briefly as his brain tried to process everything and his eyes focused on the nearest thing to him, Kosara, before quietly but urgently asking, "Where... where am I?" Fear laced his words, as palpable as anything else in the room.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Lurking Krog

As expected, and mentioned a few days ago in the Discord, my work schedule has taken a ballbat to the side of my skull, making this the most coherent thought I am capable of typing at this time. So, in accordance with the deal mentioned, I will be a day later getting the update posted. Some of it got done, then my brain restarted in Safe Mode. So here we are.

The other half of this deal is that everyone has an additional day extension to get their own posts in. It just wouldn't be fair otherwise.

...and this concludes our broadcast day. Thank you and goodnight.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Sigil
Hey, permission to edit my last post for color coding?

@Sigil
Sure, go right ahead. I see what you're talking about. Fix the damn thing.

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: Hayloft -> Neil & Bob's Public House Action: Prestidigitation Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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It had been a while since Victoria made an appearance without her trusty not-quite-living sidekick, Morty. Ever since the harmony and cadence of the Weave brought this secret to her, as revealed in teachings that most Bards simply wouldn't have had the ability to master, she had been traveling with some version of a lesser creature gifted with animation. For the first time in a while, Victoria was going to be in a location with allies present and their belongings nearby. Not on the road, not by herself.

Something about that was troubling.

But seeing as the hayloft was empty of people and the last time she spied any of her group they were headed into the Public House, Victoria thought to enter. She didn't exactly need more wine (that was NEED, but such necessity was open to interpretation and argument), though a plate of something hot and filling might do her some good. It wasn't the most pleasant night out what with the fog and chilly weather. In truth, though her urgings to visit the Honey Barn and see what festivities were a palpable force, getting something to eat and some rest to regain her fuller abilities sounded really good right then. Her more impulsive nature brought her to the pragmatic decision, which was a rarity to those who were aware of her personal history.

Victoria wasn't but two steps toward the Public House when two of the patrons within burst through the front door like their pants were ablaze, one of the yelling something about ...sprinkles? Yes, that was the word. Somehow, impossibly, the orchid-clad Bard was certain this was the fault of someone in her party. A sigh and a head shake later, Victoria resumed her steps toward the pub's main door. Her posture shifted from the slight weariness she felt to something more confident, her stride showing equal hints of sensuality and control. Every movement displayed coordinated dexterity and decisiveness. Her very jaunty, feathered, bardy hat nestled atop her red-auburn hair at an angle just rakish enough to be fashionable without trying too hard. She was to meet a new public for the first time, and the event simply had to be memorable.

A collection of drunken reprobates threatened to upset the carefully crafted persona Victoria had adopted for herself. Two moved to block the doorway while others flanked her; not immediately being hostile more than they were half-drunk and hoping to assert alphamale-esque displays for the pretty, exotic, young Half-Elf with crystal blue eyes, just as much as assure each other that they were "men among men", unafraiid to go after what they wanted. The problem was, so many times situations like this would turn into something much, much worse. "Woah, hold on there, m'lady," slurred one, puffing his chest out like a mighty pigeon, "There are dangerous people in there. You should stay with us."

"Yeah," said another, a sloppy grin on his face, "We're a lot nicer then those assholes in there. What's your name?" General murmurs of agreement and stifled chuckles followed. This was not a situation Victoria wished to be in.

A polite refusal was in order, until it needed to be impolite. She slipped her very floppy hat off of her head and looked up to the Human men on three sides of her. "Sorry boys. I have business on the inside, so if you'll please excuse me?" She reached past one of the ones in front of her and swung open the door, but they did not budge.

"Why ain't you gonna give us you name, pretty little girl? You gotta give us something, or you won't get by. What's it gonna be?" This coming from the one directly in front of her. One to her side reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder. "This's a nice coat. You some kind of rich girl, huh? Rich girl gone slummin'?"

Enough was enough. Victoria's smile was still there physically, but her mind was already judging things like distance and time, and quickly running at what magical ability she could muster that wasn't immediately fatal. With a voice that was honey-sweet yet streaked with authority, she stated, "Again, sorry boys. I'm not interested and you need to let me by - "

She was immediately cut off by another to her front who drunkenly blurted, "Give us a kiss, then. I'll let you by. Can't account for my mates, though." This was backed up by laughter from the others, and the press of bodies crowing a little closer around Victoria. "Yeah, me next," came a supporting opinion to her side.

"...hells with this..." she thought to herself. Men were disgusting sometimes, a sentiment which carried far more irony coming from her than any of these plebeians would be able to understand. She closed her eyes and lowered her head with a sigh, seemingly in defeat. "Okay," she finally said, her tone hollow.

When she raised her head again and opened her eyes, they had taken on the hue of an inky, corrupted blackness, like gelatinous coal coated with a film of ebon oil. The effect was disturbing, paired with the marks on her face from the funeral service which she had not removed yet. Her smile returned, this time menacingly enchanting, giving off the impression of a snake eyeing down a field mouse. "Mmmmmm," she purred, raising a hand to her silver, raven skull brooch before reaching as if to cup the cheek of the larger Human in front of her. Victoria's nails were black, and her palm appeared to drip heavy with energy birthed of necrosis. "Yes, give us a kiss. The Queen demands her count of flesh, and of souls. You are but a snack for the ravenous, but with your friends..." A devious laugh escaped her lips and she took a single, confident step to place her so close to the men in front of her as to feel the heat radiating from their bodies.

Trembling, the first man lost control of his bladder, darkening the front of his pants. The one next to him screamed, "Oh gods! Don't let her touch you! Don't let her touch you!" as he scrambled away, falling into the open doorway and then picking himself up, hurrying to escape in any direction he could. The others scattered like fish in a pond disturbed by a hurled rock, most running for the main thoroughfare to the west, but a couple of the others trying their luck in different directions. But the first one who demanded a kiss of her, the one with the damp trousers, fainted dead away and fell back into Neil & Bob's Public House.

When the commotion began to die down and the collective, drunken shouting of the men who thought they had the upper hand faded into the distance, Victoria dropped her prestidigitations with a disarming giggle, covering her mouth with a hand. She re-affixed her bardiest of hats to her head, and stepped over the mess of a Human to enter the Pub proper. Scanning the crowd (most of which was staring in her direction with a mix of emotions across their faces), she finally saw Kathryn and, giving a friendly wave, strode purposefully up to her. As a courtesy, she kicked the unconscious man's leg out of the way of the door so that it could swing closed on her way to the bar.

With a warm and personable voice, she greeted her adventuring associate with, "Dame Kathryn! Hi. Where is everyone else?" Victoria was acting as if nothing had just transpired. It probably wasn't the best approach at keeping a low profile, certainly, but maybe if she ignored it the problem would just go away. Right? "Oh, I promised you a drink, didn't I?" Cheerily, she attempted to signal the bartender.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Lurking Krog

And the update is up. And dated. Updated, one might say. I warned you that this might happen. I told you, but no one believed me. Well, who's laughing now, Billy? Hmmm? WHO'S LAUGHING NOW?

I digress. Getting to the point of it, the festive Township of Avonshire is slowing down to a sleepy, nighttime crawl, with most of its residents and visitors calling it a night. More clandestine activities might be had, a couple more chances at conversations, possibly, or this might be a time to think about getting a nice, long rest in. Of course, there are opportunities to be had, were one to look for them.

Also take into consideration that this festival will be around for a while longer, and there will be other chances to experience all that Avonshire has to offer the visiting adventuring professional. But don't mind me. Please, discuss among yourselves. And keep those dice handy.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Remains cold, just above freezing. The air is still, interspersed with occasional light winds. The fog remained thick and buttery, spread liberally across the grand slice of toast that was Avonshire.

Far above the Township, beyond the reach of the fog and yet still visible (though diffused) through it, a waxing gibbous moon looms large in the nighttime sky. The temporary villages and family clusters of campsites outside of the walls; tents and wagons of many varieties, began to settle in more solidly for the night. Fires burned low. There was a great sense of finality overtaking the outside of the walls. Inside, the number of people on the street was now vastly reduced. Lamps were allowed to burn out in many places, leaving dim light in the few remaining parts of town where people were still active.

Again, many of these details will not be readily available to persons who remain indoors, though reasons and excuses are abound for stepping out to get some night air. Then again, there are a number of good reasons to keep yourselves inside, so, follow your bliss on that one.

Neil & Bob's Public House

At this point in time, things are becoming stable in Bob's little slice of heaven. Not slow, persay, but the hectic pace from earlier had mellowed considerably. No new patrons have entered the establishment in a while, and anyone without a designated place to it and relax had filed out. Tables were mostly full and no one was ordering food anymore, though calls for refills were commonplace. About half of the barstools were open, the other half claimed by locals, and Robert used this opportunity to begin some spot cleaning. The classic image of an older barkeep wiping down his profession's ubiquitous horizontal surface of smooth, polished wood (or a "bar", for you purists) with a damp rag was represented adequately his hour.

Back in the kitchen, the meal between Lea, Daisy, and Marita had concluded. There was general agreement with Marita's sentiment about getting back out to the taproom floor. Daisy took the dishes from their meal and went back over to her workstation, climbed up onto her stepping-stool, and got back to her cleaning duties. On the way out, Lea noted the lessened business with a weary smile and said to her temporary co-worker, "Oh! This is much better. Marita, if you want to hang up your apron, I can handle this. If you don't, that's fine too. I've got enough in tips over the last couple of days to live on for the rest of the month. You're not stepping on my toes, either way."

The center table saw a little more action as Curly rose suddenly, despite the possible head injury and definite wound to his pride, and announced in a loud, clear, only slightly warbling voice that he needed to relieve himself. Of course, this came out as an announcement of, "I GOTTA MAKE SPRINKLES!" before he hauled ass for the door. Larry followed at Maurice's silent encouragement, to make sure he didn't fall headlong into the hole over which the outhouse stood.

At the bar, Robert noticed Kathryn and Rickard, though his business was mainly with the (sort of) "Half-Giant". He deposited the ale requested in front of her, swiftly followed by the glass of wine in front of the Elf, the latter of which he looked over with a suspicious eye, then came back with a decanter filled with a heady, red wine. "Your new friend wanted a flagon of 'the good stuff', Lady Kathryn? Well here ya go. He's going to be paying for it, too." Some common cups were plunked down next to the container of what was likely to be very good wine. Robert slid the money paid thusfar off of the bar, and went about his business.

Farmer's Market, Talent Show Area

Beppo's face turned to mild disappointment as Kosara wrapped up their time in a neat little bow and gave him a quick hug. He had little more to do than wave at the departing Tiefling, tap the last couple drops of mulled wine into his mouth, and saunter over to a gathering of locals where stew of some kind was being prepared. All things considered, it was a pretty good night for the old fellow. In very short order, Kosara's form was swallowed up by the darkness and fog, leaving the slowing actions of the Farmers' Market to their own devices.

The Hayloft

The interior of the hayloft is quiet and calm, if a bit dark. The exterior, however, is a touch brighter. This is one of the better lit parts of town, thanks to the fact that it is across the street diagonally from Neil & Bob's, even though it is best described as dim illumination. There are a few people out here as well, each in varying stages of drunkenness. Mostly they keep to themselves. Mostly. Being men of the region and alcohol a factor, it is only a matter of time before they might note the presence of unfamiliar, apparently unattended women with aesthetic qualities far grander than to which they are accustomed. Words unbecoming of a gentleman would follow shortly thereafter.

One point to break the possible tension comes in the form of a rather large fellow staggering out of the establishment, screaming something about needing to make "sprinkles", followed by a more level-headed chap who appears to have his best interests in mind.

The stable directly across the street is closed up for the evening, and appears to have been for quite some time. From the look of it, it would not take a lot to enter the premises anyway were they determined enough to do so.