Sigil

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 Action: Arcana Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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The explanation from Marita, concerning their part of the adventure separate from the others, was factually accurate if not quite as flowery in speech as she might have preferred. But not everyone could be a poet, she supposed, and relating the meat of what happened was more important than an entertaining monologue. Victoria was ever the performer, she supposed. Not that the discussion at the table was fully without entertainment value - the fact that Kosara and Kathryn made their move for the Honey Barn was a thing which the young Bard was a little disappointed she did not witness for herself. "I look forward to seeing what sort of place The Honey Barn is. Especially if there is a little coin for my travels to be had."

The other side of that issue was the direct answer to her question about the constable being "grumpy", and details surrounding their encounter. That he received a payoff from a place of questionable legitimacy did not raise her hackles; such things were commonplace and often beneficial to all parties involved, if just a touch shady. But the reports of borderline (if not direct) hostility and an insistence that he would seek out herself and Marita were unsettling. "It was a smart idea to keep away from ...our spot... in case you were followed. Thank you." Diplomatically, Victoria did feel the need to state another point, "We will need to get back in there eventually." This was going to be a problem, and unless she missed her guess, Cavendish was part of this whole business somehow. Now all she had to do was figure out what precisely this business was and how the unpleasant Constable was involved.

More to recent developments, Victoria dedicated an amount of her brainpower to the mystery of the ring that Kathryn brought back from the silversmith's place. Having already taken the same test, if that display was a test of some sort, the act of it puzzled her. What was that supposed to accomplish? The idea that a simple silver band placed somewhere delicate could invoke a reaction of some sort might have merit, though for what and under which circumstances simply eluded Victoria's ability to deduce. Skilled in matters of general Arcana thanks to her specific training, this tiny detail had gotten past her in a way that she knew was basic. Victoria found this annoying. Vexed and wishing to focus on something else, the ordinarily purple-clad Bard focused her attention outward to what was going on in the rest of the Public House.

Robert busied himself with getting rid of the few remaining people in the building. Victoria could have sworn that he saw the man give them coins but could not quite tell what he was saying to them, thanks to the steady roar of rain and their distance from the other occupied tables. But he looked to be intentionally clearing them out. Them, and not the party. This was curious. She almost lay her hand on her sword. When he approached, the promise of free food was taken with both suspicion and gratitude. A girl's got to eat, after all, even if there was something ulterior going on. If said motive was to hire them for a quick and simple delivery job, then sure. "I'm confident that we might find inclination to run your errand, Robert, seeing as you are extending us a courtesy." Quid pro quo, and all that. But suspicions remained. She quickly added, "Perhaps people who were not thrown out of Mr. Mallard's storefront may achieve a more equitable result. What is the situation with the Silversmith? What exactly did you say to him?" Information to build an arsenal for a social engagement were just as necessary as when preparing for a fight, to Victoria's experience.

Answers would have to wait for a moment as Lea came to take their order. The presence of the hardworking, comely young woman gave Victoria a little smile despite the dire circumstances playing out around them, even so far as to allow a little color to rise in her cheeks before she gave some effort to fully recomposing herself. Still, in pleasant, melodic tones, she responded to the recommended repast with a spirited, "Then that is exactly what I shall have, Lea. It all sounds heavenly, thank you."

In the event that anyone caught her sudden change of demeanor, Victoria removed her now drier hat from from the table and shook it a bit, then turned to hang it on the back of her chair in an effort to give herself something to do while conversation progressed. When she was finished, she piped up with, "I am glad to hear that the L'Roses are faring well." A memory crossed Victoria's mind just then; one she had put aside for later, involving little Lizbeth and the state of repair of her favorite purple jacket. This would have to wait a while longer, it seemed.

On the subject of waiting longer, the rain seemed relentless and they had food on the way, so they were staying put for a little bit, at least. This seemed to be a prudent time to engage in a bit of non-business-related conversation. So she settled back in her chair, glad for the presence of the fire, and waited for an appropriate moment to speak. After Kosara related her story, Victoria figured it was as good a moment as any. And with a point in common with the Tiefling lady, she had an opener. Dulcet words flowed from Victoria as she said, "Oh, that's just precious, Kosara! I have sisters back home, too. Three of them. They're the entire world to me." Her tone shifted to something more serious. "I have a, ah... a cousin, as well. His name is Virgil." Victoria paused, as if contemplating exactly how to phrase her next words. When she resumed, it was with precise diction. "He is very much like myself. A Half-Elf. A True Bard; violinist. He studied the philosophies of the Grey Requiem. We even greatly resemble one another." A sigh, and then to the meat of her story, "Virgil was lost to us. I place a high wager on the possibility that, as I continue to walk the path of the Grey Requiem as an adventurer like he did, I will find out what happened. Hopefully by then I will have the ability to do something about it." A smile returned to her face. It was a little colder; a little more ambitious. But at least her spirits seemed improved.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Arty Fox

Aaaaaand we're back! Thank you for taking to the hiatus without issue. My more professional hurdles now out of the way, we are ready to get back into the swing of things. Hence, this update. Concerning this update, there are a couple of things to note, in case they aren't clear enough from the descriptions in the IC:

Within the tavern, as far as anyone can see, it's just the staff and the party. The customers have all left. Robert is behind the bar nursing his drink. Lea is out in the open unless she's fetching something for someone. Based upon context in the dialogue, one might assume that Daisy is in the kitchen doing what she does.

The rain doesn't seem like it wants to stop anytime soon, either. Unless your character wants to go out in a downpour, you've got some time in here. I might recommend getting to know your fellow adventurer in this time, or opening discussion with the staff here. Be advised that the current clack is still clacking, though the weather is probably postponing plans all around town.

As far as timers go, everyone is reset back to Day One. Formulate your plans, do your thing, have it set up within the coming week. Work out collabs if you need. Per usual, questions, concerns, and calls for rolls or rulings can be placed in our Discord OOC or by private message. Welcome back.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: The rain has kicked into high gear. While the temperature remains around 50^oF (10^oC), the humidity is a steady factor.

Time: It is very early afternoon, though if one turns their eyes to the sky to get a better idea they would be sorely disappointed with the lack of reference points. If one stares at the sky for too long with their mouth open, drowning is a possibility.

Ambience: The sounds of rain roared against the roof of the Public House. Hammering white noise filled the ears and made casual discussion difficult without raising one's voice a little. Considering that the few others in this place were also speaking in raised voices and it was difficult to make out what they were saying, it seemed everyone was having a little difficulty. Luckily, thunder was not a thing with which one had to contend to be heard, just the seemingly omnipresent downpour.

*****

Neil & Bob's Public House

Of the three tables sparsely occupied by locals and other guests, one group of three stood and readied to leave. A modest but acceptable gratuity was left on the table, the last of drinks were drained, and coats were pulled over heads before a mad dash out into the weather. Apparently, they had somewhere to be. Lea, the barmaid, wasted no time in tending to their table and picking up her tip. This left two tables (aside from the party's) remaining. They seem not to be interested in any business but their own.

Robert remained behind the bar for the meantime, giving studious expressions to the occupied tables remaining. He poured himself a tall mug of ale and leaned forward to rub his temples briefly, but otherwise did nothing of consequence. Once the vacated table was cleared, Lea made her approach to the group's table (or whichever table the majority of the group had gravitated toward) and gave a friendly, well-meaning smile. A slightly more personal greeting went to Marita, who helped her with her work the previous evening, in the form of a quick wave. Lea then entered into a variation of one of her usual professional queries. "Hi! It's great to see you all back. What can I get for you? I'll let you in on something," She spoke the last sentence as if to reveal a quaint secret, continuing with, "The bread is very fresh, the fruit is really good today and... I think Daisy is just finishing up a batch of her butternut squash soup. It's sooo yummy."

Behind her, Robert had taken the opportunity to walk to one of the tables near the bar that still had patrons. There was a quick discussion followed by the shaking of hands and this table's occupants also getting up to leave. As Lea took orders or fielded questions, Robert had a similar conversation with the final table. It was more than a sentence or two between them, and the sound of coins hitting the floor could be heard, hastily scooped up by Robert and placed back on the table. They too made their preparations to exit.

The named proprietor finally made his way over to the party. He lay a hand on Lea's shoulder and spoke in a softer voice than any of you recall hearing from him before, saying, "Their meal is on us. We're losing money today, anyhow. No sense letting fresh food go to waste." He quickly added, "Drinks are still full price," raising a brow at Kathryn. He paused, giving what appeared to to considered thought and waiting until the last person from the last table exited the building before offering, "As a matter of fact, I have an errand I would be willing to pay you to handle for me, if you would." Robert reached into apron and pulled out a small moneypurse. From this he withdrew five gold coins and stacked them neatly on the edge of the table. "I am in no great hurry. But if you can, Mr. Mallard has a special order for me. I would appreciate if you would collect it and bring it back after the rain lets up some."

The main room of Neil & Bob's Public House was empty except for the party, Bob, and Lea. The ever present rain seemed to enhance what was an otherwise notable quiet. It is broken by Robert, "Dry off for a while. Let Lea know if you want anything. Excuse me." The proprietor; the Bob on the shingle of the business, tapped the gold coins on the table and finished with, "Let me know if you don't know want easy money, I'll come by to take it back," and moved to return to his spot behind the bar.

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 Action: Casting Prestidigitation Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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Victoria was not surprised to see Kathryn and Kosara near the loft/pub area. They had agreed to meet up around this time. What was surprising was that they were waiting outside in this uncomfortable autumn rain. Not that rain was bad; many a time the occasionally flighty Bard found herself laughing and dancing about in a fine, gentle rain toward summertime back home, but the width of space separating that bit of nostalgia and the chill drenching of the present hour was vast. The weather did nothing to enhance her mood following the shocking event with the kid in the middle of the street, as well. She might have even been a little rude to their new acquaintance, giving him a curt nod at his introduction and little else on their sodden double-step walk back.

The initial idea was to get into the Hayloft as quickly as possible and dry off, but something in the way they were motioned over hinted at urgency. So, feeling quite like a wet cat, Victoria stepped in the direction of Kathyrn and Kosara in front of the Public House. The very tall, armored lady make a very bold statement with the sentiment that things have changed. Victoria suppressed a sarcastic laugh and instead nodded in agreement. Yes, things have changed. If their news was as big as what she and Marita had witnessed, things were going to change even more.

Inside of Neil & Bob's, Victoria beelined to the table nearest to the fire in the main room. Luckily it was unoccupied. While others began to settle in and meet the new Dragonborn, she removed her now soaked hat and flopped it upon the table unceremoniously. Immediately, she stripped away her slim, purple jacket and hung it across the back of a chair. The black silk she wore underneath clung uncomfortably to her physique which she immediately pulled away from her skin (as to maintain modesty in public) and immediately fanned it a bit in a futile gesture to remove excess moisture. With a sigh, she realized that a moment of immodesty was necessary as she let the fine, imported cloth fall back to her body and began to hum. A light shimmer of heat displacement and magic flitted about her clothing as water evaporated. A subsequent casting took care of her hat. Victoria was wearing lighter clothing now but at least she was dry, and near to a fire. Morty kept near to her, at mental command getting near to the fire to dry itself (but not so close as to let the smell of roasting ham fill the room).

After a sigh, Victoria began abruptly, "To speak plainly, Rickard left. We were investigating the property of one of the missing people. Next I was aware, he just left. For what reason, I could not say. This one," he motioned to Baronfjord, "Is looking for our employer." She felt like being succinct, and her words were beginning to reflect this. Victoria lay her violin case on the table in front of her and leaned back in her chair. Then she listened.

An eyebrow raised at the mention of the silver ring. She took it with some suspicion on her face, but placed it delicately upon her own tongue and held it there for a few seconds. The Half-Elf seemed almost surprised, even a little disappointed that nothing happened. But the final result was that nothing did happen. It looked to her like silver. Victoria's hand trailed over to the brooch pinned to her coat in the shape of a raven skull, likewise made of the argent metal. "What was the connection here?" she wondered silently. Based upon what she and Marita had seen, any pieces of supposition to that end were frightening. "We have our own news that changes matters here in town, though I daresay Marita is better qualified to speak on it. She had a significantly closer view than I." A brief look around the room had Victoria following with, "Quite franly, would prefer to have an in-depth dialogue with a hot meal and carafe of good wine, myself."

The ordinarily purple-clad Bard raised a hand to wave over the barmaid, Lea, a cheery smile spreading across her delicate, proportioned features. This faded quickly as something Kosara said began to sink into her thoughts. With everything else going on, she had no desire to leave a detail, even a seemingly innocuous one, unaccounted for. "Half a moment... What did you mean by 'the Constable was grumpy still', Kosara?"

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Arty Fox

Congratulations on surviving this far, Theydies and Gentlethems. A note for the party; the map and description of Neil & Bob's is placed there based upon the discussion we had in our Discord's OOC-Lounge. Characters taking action otherwise will have to either deal with this or send me a private message with a good reason as to why. Of course, light conversation will have to take place before this IC, but that's why we worked it out in Discord. Plug in what you need to. Work it out among characters. Hell, do a collab or two if it feels like the right thing to do. Or just assume it's going off without a hitch offstage and do your thing.

Per usual, any comments, questions, etc. should be dropped in my lap via DM.

Huzzah!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: The heavens have opened, spilling the contents of a thousandfold skyward buckets upon the earth below. This is no massive, flooding deluge, but a respectable enough downpour to chase folk from the streets. There might have been enough water to cover the cobblestones of the main streets, at the least, were it not for a superior drainage system which performed valiantly in its task of channeling it into the nearby river.

Time: It is just past midday, or thereabouts. Without context it would be difficult to say, as the sun is nowhere to be seen and the usual townish occurrences associated with midday were nonexistent.

Ambience: Rain and rumor have removed the lively action of the town almost completely. The streets are largely abandoned, with exceptions being the occasional awning under which handfuls of people might be clustered. Precipitation hammers out white noise and obscures vision at a distance; not as completely as the fog from the night previous but notable enough. Persons attempting stealth might find their efforts easier in these conditions. Rain dominates the Township as a feature, giving an eerie, ghost town feel even though this is the objectively the densest population in the region.

The Farmers' Market contained the best example of locals caring a little bit less than others about the crisis that they were all in. Maybe it was due to the utter stubbornness of the salt of the earth folk, or the clannishness of the agricultural families from nearby. Suffice it to say, they are holding fast. Pavilions, covered wagons, tents, and the like are heavily occupied, and the smell of roasting, smoking, and curing pork continues, though blunted by the weather.

The Traders' Market is virtually abandoned. All of the big trades done in the morning, but a couple of later boats came in nearer to midday. One tied off and its inhabitants fled to shelter from the weather, the other staying put under a tied-down shelter, its inhabitants patiently waiting for the rain of soften some.

Outside of the walls, things are tightly battened down. Many are awaiting a good opportunity to travel while others form up in knots of people and vehicles like a bolstered caravan encampment. No one sells wares, and their numbers have gotten even smaller.

*****

Township Thoroughfare

COMING FROM THE WEST: The rain patters down regularly in front of the Honey Barn, turning the street into a respectable but quite fordable stream. This is a more secluded section of town, on the other side of the river and away from the places commonly populated during daytime hours, making it just perfect for prying eyes to gaze upon the unwary amid its corners and copse of trees. Luckily, Madame Marcie showed her newest guests across the main floor, up stairs to a low balcony, through a wonderfully appointed bathhouse attachment, and out a back way. The weather outside was not ideal, but it might just have beaten the alternative.

Naturally, the rain and obscuring conditions made it quite possible that any who wished to follow could do so at a distance, if they knew what they were doing. Once or twice, a person might be forgiven if paranoia had them look behind, anticipating hooded figures or the like but never quite seeing them.

Rainwater spilled from the bridges and cobblestones of the Township, feeding a slightly swollen river even as the settlement's ample drainage system did the same with greater efficiency. From this point, one may travel south and west to get back to the Hayloft/Public House/Stable area quickly, utilizing side streets. Either way, it is inevitable that Kathryn and Kosara make it back to this area about a minute before the others arrive.

COMING FROM THE EAST: Feet hit the flooded stones of the main thoroughfare with purpose, even if that purpose is to get out of the inclement weather. An uneasy sort of white noise peace fills the air around the trio of Baronfjord, Marita, and Victoria, as what should be a crowded and bustling street is abandoned, and all of the windows visible have been shuttered. With the exception of movement at the edge of visible distance, likely from others hurrying along to their destinations, this place could pass for a ghost town.

The most direct path takes the trio down the main thoroughfare and into the Township's center, where the huge stone basin still stands and a great, gurgling fountain seems to push water even higher in defiance of he rain's presence. No performers play their music here this time, though; no jugglers a'juggling, no songs being sung by skilled vocalists. Pushcarts, may of them, simply lay where they were left, the valuable things they might have once held removed for spots more secure.

From here is it south, as if to leave the same way which the party entered the Township. A quick cut to the east puts them within sight of their intended destination. The sign of the Public House swings back and forth in the rain and wind, pitching rivulets off to the ground below. The Stables seem open and friendly, as its proprietor is in the small, covered farriers' smithy in the front of the establishment. Fields by name, he remembers Marita and Victoria from before and gives a wave before getting back to repairing unruly nails with heat and hammer.

Neil & Bob's Public House

The party now removed from one another by a matter of traversable meters, and is within clear(ish) sight of one another. Casual observation has no one else out and about on this street right now, though you can hear something that might be business come from inside of the Public House. The Hayloft, nondescript and closed up as ever, lay right across from the Stable, which is right beside Neil & Bob's.

Anyone entering the Public House will see that three tables are occupied - the ones nearest to the bar proper. Lea is here, taking to her usual duties even if there really isn't much to do. Robert is here as well, taking up his position behind the bar like a seasoned professional. The former gives a smile and wave in the party's general direction, while the latter casts a wary look with steely eyes. There is a fire in the hearth, crackling warmly against the oppressive sounds of the rain from outside, and the overall feel of this place is more comfortable, with a decent toothsome smell of food cooking over the notes of ale in the air.

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: Township Thoroughfare -> En Route to the Hayloft Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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The woman who spoke up earlier was suddenly less receptive to conversation. Or were that not the case, her desire appeared less aligned with discussion and more with brief monologue. Either way, the exchange with the blue Dragonborn did not bear the fruit that he had apparently hoped. With that, and the enhanced fleetness of foot which marked her exit, Victoria's opinion of the situation had altered. Keeping out in the middle of this fast emptying street with people looking on half hidden from behind window slits after something unnatural was not the kind of attention that she was after. These were not appreciative crowds of present and potential fans, nor were they the solemn crowd associated with her more noble pursuits of her College's philosophy. Her crowd-seeking was better served among those in cheer, or those in sorrow. Fear did not create a preferred audience.

The original deference to Marita's judgement on how to proceed was overruled by the Bard's more flighty nature, a decision having been made which was more along the avenue of what was more desirable for self. She would have called it pragmatic, even if such a word was rarely used to describe her to others. So in that amounted to a declaration of self assertion, Victoria leaned over to her much holier associate and quietly proclaimed, "I am not comfortable here. I shall find my way back to meet up with the others and..." Victoria paused for a second to attempt to find the right words for the occasion, continuing, "...and I leave your superior judgement to puzzle out the mystery of our new friend." She was not the most insightful of persons, and understood her limitations in this regard.

Victoria's hand rested on the hilt of her sword, a seeming act of nonchalance which kept it positioned for a fast draw from her other hand; not that her talents fully lay with the sword, but not everyone would know that. Her voice and her violin were the more deadly of her defenses, naturally, as well it should be, to her thoughts. She slid the first two fingers of her right hand across the brim of her wide-brimmed hat, gave the Cleric a nigh roguish smile and a wink, and strode down the street with more confidence than she actually felt. It seemed to be a trend with her lately. Responding to standing mental command, her previously living, burlap wrapped henchboar started trotting just behind Victoria and to her side.

She did briefly stop next to Baronfjørd. Her eyes were occupied with windows and places where folk could conceivably be hiding, and as such Victoria did not look to the young Dragonborn as she spoke, again just loudly enough to be heard by him. "I feel famished. I return to our group, hopefully to take a luncheon. Perhaps a bottle of wine. It has been that category of day. Perhaps we will hear more of your story then." It wasn't precisely an invitation. The thought did occur to Victoria that this person was another outsider, like themselves. He was also just sighted with her and Marita out in the open while that boy started to shift, after which he openly mentioned the Sheriff. If the wrong eyes saw this happen, then their new acquaintance was probably just made a target by forces still murky of origin. "Excuse me."

Victoria tipped her hat in him direction and again set off down the road. To her estimation, if anything particularly aggressive was going to happen, there would be a delay while the news of what had happened set in and plans were made accordingly. It was best to get off of the street before then.

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: Township Thoroughfare Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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The unfolding horror of their situation seemed (at face value) to be overshadowed by a more mundane annoyance as Victoria raised a hand to block errant drops of rain from hitting her face. Bright eyes looked toward the clouded over sky above them all with distaste. She was not opposed to rain as a whole, but would rather not stand out in the middle of it unless the situation called for this specifically. Or unless she got a weird bent to want to frolic in a refreshing summer storm. Unfortunately, this was not summer. This was the coming of the harvest moon in autumn, and while the weather had brought in slightly milder temperatures it would be stamped back down with the presence of drenched clothes. One could not take the time to dry one's garments with Prestidigitation in the middle of a downpour, either. At least her primary violin was packed away in a fine, tight case for emergencies such as this.

Of course, a proper umbrella might have done much to alleviate her concerns. Yes, a fine purple one with a blade or wand concealed within the shaft. That might be ideal for future situations, but daydream of luxuries as she might, Victoria could no more summon such a thing to her right then as she could stop the rain with a song - yet.

As the plan to remove herself from the open sky got hijacked by the Dragonborn's desire to speak with someone who claimed to recognize the boy who kicked off all of this, curiosity did flare enough to hold her tongue from the more aggressive things she might suggest that those around her participated in with themselves. The Bard wondered briefly why she was even waiting on any of this until her glance happened to fall upon Marita. She had not taken it upon herself to pack up shop and move the party indoors as of yet, and so she deferred to her colleague's instincts to see where this might lead.

Morty, per usual, just stood there.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@Dragoknighte@rivaan@Remipa Awesome@Sigil@Arty Fox

Update is posted. My apologies for the shorter description of things going on about the Thoroughfare, there isn't a whole lot of direct action or discussion to get into when the townsfolk are trying to get indoors and avoid people, and the general setting is already out there. But here we are, opening a line of possible inquiry with the lady who spoke up earlier. Let's see where the dice rolls take us. If I might pose a suggestion - act decisively. We are approaching the more active portion of this adventure, and a timetable of penned events is happening. The chance to affect these events comes with character involvement.

Per usual, questions, comments, concerns, etc. are best dropped in my DMs on our Discord, and get with me for calls on dice rolls, also in our Discord. And once again, I appreciate your presence in this D&D mystery story.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Weather: There is nary a trace of the the sun to be seen, though visibility is still soundly supported by the ambient light of midday. A sharp roll of thunder ripples across the sky. While the atmosphere looks very much like it will succumb to downpour conditions, at present there are but the regular stabs of heavy raindrops striking earthward. The once slower drumming of water upon stone, water upon roof, and water upon canvas awning has increased in tempo. Rain is here, and it will only become more formidible.

Time: Midday is sounded across town. This is more of a formality at this point, but the presently unseen sun is indeed at its zenith.

Ambience: Rumor has an astounding way of gnawing into the subconscious of the population, even rumors of something horrible. It is another thing altogether when the reality of it is laid bare for some to witness, and is proven worse than rumor. What was once covered in a thin veneer of denial is cloaked now only in equally fragile, bitter silence. It is this silence which followed the spreading wave news of a lost child found, turning into a creature of unknown origin, and running off to places unknown. The child is still at large.

Overt celebrations are dead. The music out in the open, a commonplace thing during festivals, has grown quiet. This could very well have something to do with the rain, but there is a good possibility that there are other factors involved, too. People are now mostly indoors and/or in groups, as if instinctual in nature.

The Farmers' Market has also gotten quieter. It is quite possible that it is because of the weather more than anything else as shelter there is a touch more primitive than other places in town, although the number of pavilion tents and townsfolk who, in their own rustic fashion, simply refuse to be run off from their own interests. Some are armed, some are not, and those stubborn damned hog smokers will not abandon their herbs, spices, various woods, nor their formerly living slabs of yummy meatstuffs.

The Traders' Market found itself quieter recently. As most of the products were on and offloaded in the morning, people still there were handling finances and shutting down. There are few who would stay in a place where little financial incentive put them there. Most doors are closed and windows shuttered; most ware facilities are locked up. A couple of locations stand ready to receive late coming goods and even these people are being more cautious than usual. Still, those who do remain do so mainly out of stubbornness.

Outside of the walls, the wagons are circled both literally and metaphorically. Few merchants keep their stalls open and meals are mostly eaten cold this hour. Rain and news have dwindled their numbers to about half of their original festival turnout.

Township Thoroughfare

The rain quickens, as rain often does. This street, one of the main streets of the usually bustling township, is emptying like a discarded cuspidor. This is Ground Zero of the bombshell that snapped Avonshire out of its semi-comfortable stupor of plausible deniability and almost no one is taking it well. At least they have ceased laying blame at the newcomers, which is a start. Not an amazing start, but the party has some social breathing room for now.

The stocky woman of middle years, pushing a smallish cart laden with vegetables who mentioned that she recognized the boy was also in her own retreat, though a hair slower than many of the less encumbered and more active persons about town. Getting up to her was a relatively easy feat as the streets were somewhat clearer now and one could easily see the people dodging around her slower pushcart.

Upon catching up with the woman, she stops readily though glances in the direction that he was traveling before piping up, "Please, I dare not linger and I still have things to deliver. What do you want from me?"

Madame Marcie's Honey Barn

Madame Marcie is ever the gracious and slightly histrionic hostess, though this occasion has her mixing varying amounts of concern in her voice. "Why, at a certainty I can work you into our ...entertainment lineup... yes, for the evening. Anyone new and exotic is well received by our regulars, and ... and," She stopped, giving a mostly undecipherable expression, "You ought not poke fun at the Constable, Miss. Not to his face and not where some certain ears can hear you. He's become quite testy as of late."

Addressing Kathryn, the Madame remarks, "Usual business? Oh, you saw outside... Understand that money changes hands for a lot of different reasons. Now, one of those reasons, hypothetically, is to keep doing business past hours, undisturbed by people who could cause a stir." Marcie smiled and gave a little shrug, "I prefer that me and my girls are left to our own counsel inside of these walls. You understand, I'm sure. It's the cost of doing business, I'm afraid, just like back in Argentum; just like in Khimn." The names of those places would be familiar to most who knew about the geography of the area - the former was a walled city of such proportions as to be considered its own small province and the latter being a formidable city ran by a circle of knights, home to one of the few legal Arenas in the land. It served to indicate that the lady was traveled.

"I am disappointed that you have to leave so soon, dears. But if you want to slip out the back way and avoid the Constable, I can help." She turned and began leaving hollow footfalls on the cobblestone flooring, beckoning with her hand. She began to lead them into the main floor of the establishment. It was a fine, open space that looked like a party was thrown there the night before. Women, mostly youthful, set about tidying things. Furnishings were solid and decent of craftsmanship. There was a large, central stage in the middle of the area, strategically positioned in the middle of a set of low stairs which stretched across the whole of the main room. Balconies rose above, exposing an open air second floor whose secrets were concealed by the angle one had from the ground floor. "There's a back way out through the baths, this way. Oh, but what did you mean ...Kosara, right? What did you mean about an issue with the Constable and Goblins? Is there a connection there?" She seemed genuinely confused.

Before the three of them got to the low stairs in the middle of the main room, a woman burst in through the front doors, calling for Marcie. "Madame! Madame Marcie? You won't believe this! The kid who disappeared from the orphanage came back! But he was a monster! Two of the outsiders were with him, and... Oh, sorry!" She apparently just realized that the other two "outsiders" were with her boss, and immediately fell silent.