Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

I'll bet you were wondering why I asked for that darn perception check in the Discord, hmm? Well, too bad. Update is in the IC, doing what it does best; UPDATING. The conversation in the middle of it is what can be heard and/or detected by the person who has taken the last watch of the evening/early morning, looking out of a crack in the door and listening quietly. Just setting the stage for intrigue and questions.

Otherwise, a new day is dawning in Avonshire, rise and greet it! And was always, I am avainable to answer questions and the like. Yay!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Cold, but not freezing.

Time: Early! And it's about time, too.

Ambience: The fog is beginning to lift. It is still quite foggy, but this can be more readily seen through because of the cold, grey light of the early dawn. This weak light has enough illumination to highlight the sheen of frost that covers the cobblestone of the street and most other surfaces. The frost did not touch the inside of the hayloft, nor did it penetrate the sanctity of Neil & Bob's (though one can see the telltale frosted windowpanes were they to push a curtain back).

It is as comfortable as one might expect within the Public House, owing to the more insulated structure but not amazingly comfortable bedding. Comparatively, the Hayloft is more snug than one might have given it credit, particularly on its upper level. In short, all individuals are comfortable enough to have gotten the benefits of a long rest.

There isn't much movement in the Township right now. Perhaps in the outlying farms; not much closer in. For the most part, people are sticking to their homes. Lots to drink the night before thanks to the festival, and the fact that most of the businesses are catering to these people, means that things are slow to start this frosty morning. The fires in kitchens (including in the Public House) are being stoked by their caretakers, establishment employees, and the like.

---

Outside of Neil & Bob's Public House, on the other hand, a conversation is taking place:

"No, Constable. Wasn't no more ruckus that happens usually, this time of year."

"Don't lie to me, Robert. I received a report that you had some trouble here. Outsiders." The Constable rested his hand on the head of his very fine warhammer, which seemed to give off the faintest glow in the dim light of the morning.

"Yeah there was. And it wasn't anything more than what happens usually, this time of year. Like I just said, Cavendish."

"Watch that tone, Barkeep. I can drag you off for harboring criminals. Doesn't matter to me if my stuck-up cousin sent them. Now you're going to tell me what you found out about them, or, well... you know what happens next."

A spark of defiance never left Robert's speech as he replied, albeit just a hair deflated, "The womenfolk from out of town mostly just drank wine and asked customers about Goblins. One of them got approached by the door and embarrassed the man. Another one got in a scuffle. Nothing I'd draw attention to. Man didn't like being showed up by girls, his buddies lied for him. The others were fine with spending good silver, and I was fine with talking it."

"Mmm hmm. And they got beds here last night, right?" The Constable seemed very eager to get into the building in that moment.

"Back off, Cavendish. They aren't here. I don't know where they are. Or the L'Roses. But my actual guests are stirring."

This seemed to satisfy Cavendish, who nodded his head thoughtfully and asked directly, "How much you know about what's going on? The question was highly vague and out of place, to the point of being a non sequitur.

"Not a damn thing."

"Keep it that way," Cavendish responded with a condescending smile. "Unless I tell you otherwise." The man turned and walked back up the road from which he came.

---

Neil & Bob's Public House

The locals and temporary lodgers of the Public House are beginning to stir. A couple of them, anyway. The shuffling about of feet on the floor and coverings rustling quietly, altogether, make notable noise in the relative quiet of the very early morning. One might have a good idea as to the severity of alcohol's aftereffects based upon other quiet noises made in dismay, from those who were aware of their surroundings enough to do so.

Many of the gathered bodies in the common sleeping area let out more noticeable groans of displeasure as a loud thunk could be heard elsewhere in the building, as if a heavy weight had unintentionally landed on the floor. This was followed by what was probably swearing, based upon the abrupt nature of the vocal utterance, but this was a difficult fact to verify on account of the walls intervening. Those who could stayed exactly where they were in their early morning repose, while two sat on the edge of their straw beds, hoping their heads would clear a little more before rising and greeting the day was necessary.

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 Hayloft Action: Minor Illusion, Prestidigitation Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Victoria gave a listen to what the rest of her party had to say. More than that, she took the occasion to really give consideration toward these people she had met just the day before yesterday. These were the ones that stuck around, after all was said and done thusfar, and looked like they would be the ones with which she would have to put some parcel of trust. Probably not all at once, though. Knightly type, godly type, spellcaster. Well, she'd associated with less reputable people before. Even so, and despite their newness as an investigative group, Victoria believed that she would always be something of an outsider among them, for reasons both obvious and hidden.

But to the topic at hand, which she addressed after she gathered up her bedroll and blanket and placed them on conveniently arranged hay bales to form a sort of rustic twin bed near a wall, her backpack and errant cart forming a partially sectioned off area which gave a suggestion of personal space. To verbalize her thoughts, she mentioned, "My concern, for what it's worth, is not with the people who are still missing. I am curious as to the ones who vanished and then returned. It is unfortunate that we do not know who those people are."

She gave a lightly amused smile, recounting the events from earlier involving the crowd of drunken reprobates outside of the Public House. Wryly, Victoria commented, "I doubt that I will be able to be as effective an investigator in this small town, due to my flagrant display of magic earlier. I might even be suspect, at least until I have time to spin the incident to the public." In her estimation, it was a mistake to imply servitude to some eldritch horror when accosted by the locals, when loud and cutting remarks designed to draw attention to herself might have accomplished the same outcome, more or less. An addendum to that thought immediately followed, with some importance; only because the nature of their work contained subterfuge. Otherwise, the full brunt of her ability to inspire fear was fully appropriate.

This thought flowed over into another point made by Kosara, about her safety, "No, you should not 'protect me' to the exclusion of our reason to be here. I have proven that I can handle myself. And I have a Morty!" The last sentence was punctuated by a sudden upbeat tone as she recalled a detail from the previous day that, in the hustle of the day, she had forgotten. Victoria's dexterous hands lifted the lid of her traveling chest. From this elegant box she produced a bundle of cloth and a signalling bell, which she had purchased in Darenby the previous day. "Marita, it's only fair that I take a turn at watch." A devious look crossed her features as she knelt in front of her carefully wrapped, animated swine and placed the handle of the bell into its mouth. A brief expression of concentration followed, and Morty, bell clasped firmly, stepped near to the edge of the loft floor. From this vantage, one could see the doors at either side of the structure readily. "But I simply must get my rest. You understand."

Feeling very pleased with herself, Victoria returned to her pallet with the bundle of cloth and turned back around, waving her hands in front of her as if wiping condensation away from a window. Instead of making vision clearer, the motion left behind it the growing image of a privacy screen, five feet wide and just tall enough for her to see over. Satisfied, the perky Half-Elf shuffled off her working gear and clothing, applying minor magics for the sake of cleanliness all the while. She regarded her own lithe, svelte form for a moment, then sighed softly, nodded, and pulled on a set of black silk garments which were stylish, functional, and displayed relative modesty, not unlike the set she had just removed and magically laundered.

A wave dismissed the privacy screen. Victoria set to adding an insulating layer of clothing atop her undergarments as it was still not an ideally comfortable temperature, even with the brazier burning nearby. To no one in particular, she mentioned, "The feeling which came over me, of being watched?" her head shook slowly, "Did not occur in the cemetery itself, nor on the walk to it. It was only while returning from the cemetery. Just to clarify." Then, the Bard changed the subject again, motioning to her pig, "So yes, if two sets of eyes are better than one, then there is my turn at watch. Morty is tasked with ringing that bell if he detects anything (aside from one of us) entering this building." Utilitarian uses for Necromancy was a stiff drawing point for Victoria, as she did like making herself useful most of the time. "Sleep tight, everyone. Oh, don't forget to feed the brazier when your watch comes up. It's quite chilly out there." She smiled and snuggled into her makeshift but still fairly comfortable bed, eyes staring at the soft, red-orange glow of their only active source of light and heat. While Victoria was still willing to entertain light conversation, she was most definitely settling in for the night.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Alright, my multigendered funhouse! (still working on that opener) The update is both Up and Dated. Like I mentioned in the Discord Announcements channel, this is really more of a bump than it is meant to convey information. Have at it, talk amongst yourselves, etc. Plot in our Discord, in the OOC, whatever, and if questions are to be had, please drop me a message. Thanks!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Around 34^oF, 1^oC.

Time: Quite later.

Ambience: Deep fog. Tiny ice crystals form and dissipate in the fog; which is doing an excellent job of making sight fuzzy. What little light is present this night comes from the nearly full moon poking through the terrestrial cloud cover, which is simply not remarkable of intensity.

To give a brief description of the interior of the Hayloft - This is a tidy and well maintained building, be it sparsely appointed. Items of note:

• Several bales of new hay
• a presently unused lamp
• a few barrels (at least one containing fresh, clean water)
• a small cart
• the block and tackle lift for moving cargo between levels
• a ladder leading to the upper floor

The personal belongings of the party are present, what was not taken with them. Additionally, so are Hugh's items, which I should probably list here.

Backpack, containing:

• Bedroll
• Blanket
• Case, Map or Scroll
• Cook's Utensils
• Crowbar
• Ink (1 oz. bottle)
• Ink Pen
• Mess Kit
• Parchment (x5)
• Playing Card Set
• Rations (x15)
• Rope, Hemp (50 ft)
• Shortbow
• Thieves' Tools
• Tinderbox
• Torch
• Waterskin

Quiver (x2), containing

• Arrows (30)

There is still no sign of the errant Monk.

Also, recall that items were left in the wagon, which is presently across the street in the Farrier's/Stable; now closed up for the evening.

Moving on, the hayloft is mostly bathed in a dim, red-orange light, thanks to the brazier on the top level. There is just enough light to see by, barely. It is easier to catch details on the top level, where the source of the light rests. It is still not ideal. One can still see well enough to navigate, though again, reading might pose difficulties for now. There are large, double doors on either side of the hayloft on the ground floor, which for now are closed soundly and barred. Likewise, there are two doors on the upper level, these no less snug in their frames than their larger, vehicle-intended brethren below.

Neil & Bob's Public House

The common sleeping room of Neil & Bob's Public House has not changed in the last few minutes. The rows of beds lay as they had, occupied by the forms of sleeping individuals making the various noises that a predominately Human crowd might. The horrifying colonic winds which had wafted silently (beyond its emergence into the open air, anyway) across the room did its best to make life perious, and eventually faded into the background. Whether this is an effect of honest dispersal or simply nose blindness is up for debate.

The candle-lights on either end of the room have burned out, allowing for darkvision to be utilized with majority of effectiveness. There are two other beds in this room toward the center which are empty, their basic coverings set neatly atop the foot of those beds.

---

Alright, folks! Let the continuing continue!

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 Hayloft Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Victoria tried to smile at what she felt was misguided optimism on Kosara's part. Perhaps the Bard's sarcastic inflection which marked her earlier words did not present sharply enough, as to communicate the appropriate nuance. She debated taking the wiser course of action; that being keeping quiet and giving some sort of mysterious, half contemplative smile, but in the end just couldn't help herself. "In just a moment's reconsideration, I have no desire to spend half or more of my money on furnishings for a place that we're not going to be in for very long, and, you know - isn't ours." Maybe it was the wine from earlier loosening her tongue. Or just irritation at the evening's events. Likely it was a combination of both.

She sighed, forcing her voice to soften as she responded to the Tiefling's expression of gratitude, "Sorry. And you're welcome." Victoria began to question her original assessment of how much wine she had consumed so far this evening. Maybe in hindsight, she could stand to have another glass before calling it a night, just to loosen up. But that did remind her that she had an announcement for the whole group, "The locals were..." She paused, trying to figure out the most appropriate phrasing, "...kind enough to donate multiple bottles of wine to the ceremony. The bereaved were not interested in keeping them." For emphasis, Victoria stepped back to her small errand cart and nudged it with a foot. The bottles jostled just enough to give a short symphony of clinks and hollow ringing sounds audible from the ground level of the loft before falling back to silence.

By the time Victoria stepped back to the edge, overlooking the level below, Kosara was in mid-disrobe. The Half-Elf froze, her face flushing slightly despite her features refusing to show a difference of expression. When Victoria realized that she was beginning to stare, she quickly averted her gaze with a whisper of, _{"...different lifetime..."} and reacted to what was being said. "Municipal, um, Municipal Building. In my home city, it's used for matters of law, keeping records, taxes, and is a meeting place for city officials. Governing persons of the city. And for the Sheriff, town guard, so forth, to keep office. This is a small place and it's surrounded by farms, but, is the Constable the only person of authority here, that he personally can shut everything else down? If - what was his name - Cavendish? If he's responsible for something, I doubt it's just him." Without proof, anything she said was going to be supposition. Conjecture at best. But it got her fairly agile mind working on something aside from its previous train of thought.

Thinking about things, she piped up, "And no, I haven't seen Hugh at all since I left for the funeral. If he isn't back by morning, I recommend we split up his gear and sell what we don't want for pocket money." Victoria's mind flashed back to their post-battle conversation much earlier that day, with the condescending vitriol he refused to let go. She didn't consider herself vindictive, though she might be wrong about that. Introspection wasn't how she made her living.

But to actual business, Victoria gave a listen to what Kathryn and Marita had to say. She gave a wry smile at the fact that the Cleric had withheld the paper she did until this point. She was glad to have the information, granted, but she couldn't help thinking that if it were her with this information and she held it back, it would be for the purpose of holding an advantage of some kind. Marita didn't seem like she was as ethically flexible as Victoria, herself, though the smile suggested that the thought was being entertained at the very least. She was ready to address the points raised by her colleagues, but first felt the need to say, "Might we please stop talking about the non-existent kitchen?" She looked around, honestly amazed that her act of sarcasm was a point of serious conversation. "So, I agree that the victims seem to come from different social strata. And those are just the ones that disappeared and didn't come back. In any case, I really didn't learn anything of great value, I don't believe." She bobbed her head from side to side, mulling over her evening prior to coming to the Public House, and mentioned, "Cecily and Lizbeth have taken up in a boarding house near the Silversmith's place. Um, I'm not particularly fond of this fog, either. And one more thing, so long as it was brought up - When I was coming back from the cemetery, I did feel like I was being watched. I said nothing for fear of upsetting Mrs. L'Rose or Lizbeth, but it happened."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@GingerBoi123
Not sure that I see where you are coming from with the reasoning, but, at your preference, of course. Should you change your mind, please feel free to submit a CS. And that you for showing interest in our little adventure.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Okay ladies, gents, ladigents, and gentleladies, the Update has been Updated. As you can see, this is little more than a bump, letting you all know that I'm still alive and, for the meantime, so are all of you. If you expected an ambush or forest fire, oops. Sorry, maybe next time. I'll pencil something more exciting in for you later. For right now, we have the group doing group things.

And Rickard. He has his own drama with which he must contend.

@GingerBoi123

There is nothing about feats in the original OOC post because none of the characters presently have access to feats unless they are Human (variant).

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: Juuuuust a hair away from freezing.

Time: Quite late. All the decent folk are already asleep, the rest of you reprobates who are still up and about are probably guilty of something.

Ambience: The fog remains outside, doing what it does best. Pale light from the nearly full moon diffuses through, giving barely enough light to determine where the street ends and the buildings begin (to normal sight). In some places, where the dim light catches just right, one can see silvery crystals of frost forming in the dense fog, only to disappear in the light, mercurial wind.

The interior of the L'Rose Hayloft is as it was prior; a much darker now, obviously, with what light presently available coming from the brazier in the raised area. The light coming from it is secondary to its use as a cooking area and source of radiant heat, which is mostly kept to the top area. There are several bales of packed hay here, still clean and fresh-smelling, a presently unused lamp, a few barrels, a small cart to one corner, and of course, the block and tackle lift for moving cargo from the ground to the upper level. For those up top, the belongings of Hugh the Monk are still present, as is the strategic sleeping place he set up for himself. No sign of him, however.

Down below, the light is not the best in the world, the ambient red-orange glow being the equivalent of dim lighting (being generous). One can still see well enough to navigate. Reading might pose difficulties for now. Luckily for those inside, voices which are readily discernible inside, thanks to decent acoustics. On the other hand, noise from the outside seems to be muffled. One may assume that this barrier to sound works both ways.

For now, those in the Hayloft have as much safety and privacy as one might be able to in this town. This sentence could be followed by the suffixes of "you think" or even "you hope", but such bits of heightened awareness must be tempered with the relatively sequestered nature of your little hidey-hole here in Avonshire, and the amount of alcohol some of you have consumed.

Neil & Bob's Public House

The common sleeping room of Neil & Bob's Public House is much like one would expect. Most of the beds, straw-stuffed mattresses upon simple wooden frames, are taken by locals and/or more then moderately inebriated folk. There are two small candle lamps here on opposite ends of the room, alight but burning low, as if the proprietors only use candles which burn for a short time intentionally. Chests are at the foot of each of the beds for personal belongings though it doesn't look like many of the people here are using them. If you want a decent lock for them, you'll have to bring your own.

Three beds are not in use. We will assume that Rickard got a bed early and thusly had pick of which one is his. The other two are toward the center of the room, which no one particularly wanted for reasons obvious or unobvious reasons. Somewhere in the dim, an offputting, baritone sputter erupted from one of the beds on the other side of the room. Nothing else happened at first. A couple of long, quiet seconds ticked by, followed by various groans and the throwing of nonlethal, disposable materials at the source of the offending noise. It's only a short matter of time before the invisible miasma wafts across the room and does things most foul. Be warned. Be wary. Be Prepared.

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 Hayloft Action: Prestidigitation, Note of Undeath Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Victoria gave a moment to herself to check as far as she might be able to perceive, up one side of the street and back down the other one. The feeling of being observed hadn't fully gone away since the walk back from the graveyard, and she was quite alone outside of the Public House. Her group was back in the bar behind her; stalwart yet unthinking undead companion in the loft in front of her. It was quite possible that the magic which animated the formerly living, woodsmoked beast had worn off, as she had not updated it in a while and this was required regularly. In any case, Victoria wanted the day to come to an end so the hayloft was the best option for her.

The weather was not favorable to Victoria but not unexpected by any means. Autumn had a funny way of having days which started out comfortable enough, before turning into frigid nightmares (in comparison) as soon as the sun departed. What little wind there was seemed to push the dampness of the surrounding fog into any gaps in her clothing, adding to the discomfort she felt. Getting back indoors was a priority for her just then. The door to the hayloft swung open easily enough, though she only parted it from its closed position just enough to slip inside and shut it firmly back behind her.

Victoria was not stupid. Flighty sometimes, foolhardy at others, but not stupid. As soon as she entered, she placed her back to the door and drew her slim bladed sword, giving herself the seconds necessary for her darkvision to acclimate fully to the darker interior of the structure. While Victoria waited, she extended her thoughts to the area around her. A simple mental command for her unassuming thrall to approach, which was left blankly unanswered. So Morty had un-re-animated in her absence. She made a mental note to keep better track of these things once she had the ability to weave together the more powerful, standard application of animating undead minions to have at her disposal, as that process came with an additional caveat that would make life more interesting than she really wanted, provided that she did not. Satisfied that she was alone in the loft, Victoria resheathed her sword, climbed the ladder, and made her way over to the lump of preserved meat that used to be Morty.

First things first - bring her assistant back to activity. She closed her eyes briefly, allowing a single, humming note of necrotic energy to coalesce from the ether around her and permeate the eviscerated, still body of the tusked hog before her. It came to something resembling life and jerkily (jerky-ly?) stood.

Second things second - there was a brazier and wood for burning nearby, as Cecily had pointed out earlier that day. She took a moment or two to make a simple arrangement of fuel in the brazier and called upon another of her lesser (but amazingly useful) magics to bring it ablaze. The thought passed through her mind that she really should practice more with her mundane firestarting tools which, for reasons still unknown to her, she still carried in her backpack.

As an afterthought, she used the same cantrip to remove the cosmetics from her face, including the death/tears motif she had meticulously applied earlier, and cleaned herself up a bit. Taking a couple of minutes to use Prestidigitation for personal cleanliness was useful, Victoria noted, but it was not the same sort of luxurious experience that a hot water bath could provide. Well, she could experience these little comforts at a later time, she supposed. This would have to do for now.

It wasn't very much longer that she heard the door open below on the ground floor. Cautiously, she began to edge toward the end of the loft floor overlooking the ground. A tiny giggle escaped her when she heard that it was no midnight boogeyman but Marita, returning from the Pub. Victoria straightened and made stepped into view above. "Still awake," she called down, a little smile plainly in view. "I'd much rather be getting my rest, but yes, it's probably best we talk about today." The last half of that sentence came out with tones much darker, but no less flowery of delivery. Morty emerged from the shadows to stand next to its mistress, silently and mindlessly staring straight ahead with burlap-wrapped eyes.

The others arrived, and with them came trivial, mundane questions one might associate with a simple day trip. To Kosara's inquiry, she offered, "Cecily mentioned that fresh water was stocked in those barrels over there," motioning to the bound, wooden casks to the side. "Other amenities too, like a reserved privy in the back. If we acquire some throw pillows and perhaps a staffed kitchen - maybe a nice, clawfoot tub, I might just want to establish a summer home here." Her voice was colored with dry sarcasm, but the immediately following expression of optimistic consideration gave the impression that she really didn't mind the setup here. "At least we have some privacy. So please, let us talk plainly."