Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Exterior B&B Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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

The situation had not changed enough for Victoria to alter her present intentions. If anything, it cemented them. She did not stupidly rush off, as anyone bearing even half of their mental facility would know that she could not challenge the Constable and his guards alone. The instinct for survival was just as strong as ever. But they needed to do something and time was a more pronounced factor now.

Following the example of Kosara's more emotive nature and the subsequent verbal and nonverbal inquiry from their newest party member, all Victoria could do was shrug. While she had greater understanding of these people than she had upon first meeting, one was compelled to remember that she had met most of them only a couple of days prior. Victoria added a mildly bewildered head shake to her shrug and attempted to return to the business at hand.

"So we are presented with... what, two minutes to form a plan and ten minutes to implement it? Maybe we might simplify." Her voice dropped in volume but became sterner, "Do we wish to attempt stealth? Or knowing it is probably a trap, do we waltz in and give them a show?" There was something to be said for shock and awe. Almost as much as being sneaky. "I am feeling quite versatile this evening."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

A note to make here: The time constraint given in the letter is realistic. Though this is the hub town of the region, it is still a very rural, agricultural place. The settlement itself is about the size of a small district or borough in a much larger city. Getting from the outer wall to the crossroads is a jaunt of a few minutes. The characters would know this based upon the delivery run they assisted early on.

In any case, please spot me in our Discord for questions, rolls, etc, and please bear with me as I have handled update via mobile. I expect that there may be some inconsistencies.

ALSO! Even though I was able to meet my time deadline, I am still going to honor the extra day for everyone to post this cycle that I mentioned in Discord. I will pace future updates accordingly. Thanks!

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

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

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

Weather: It is cold and there is thick, still fog dominating the area.

Time: Nighttime. Still enough hours left for trouble and yet get a more-or-less less decent rest this evening.

Ambience: It is quiet this evening. Not silent, mind you, but quiet enough that other sounds become more noticeable. Somewhere down the road, curious sounds of shuffling that one may attribute to rats continues, as does the steadily decreasing drip of water from the previous precipitation. There is the distinct impression that people, for the most part, are heeding the warning of the disembodied voice and keeping hidden.

*******

The relative stillness of the evening deepens. One could imagine that they were in a ghost town, though practical sense would remind that this settlement is packed fairly solid with persons local, regional, and far traveller. Banners hung limply in the soft moonlight, made ghostly by the occasional soft breeze and obscurement of the ground-crawling cloud of atmospheric condensation. Yet still, the scent of slow roasted swine and curing fires could be detected, mingling about the air like an everpresent friend.

Tiny paws outstretched and released the carefully folded bit of paper into Kosara's hands. The creature then rubbed its face over and over rapidly for a second or two and twitched its little whiskers, sniffing the air. It let out a tiny squeak and began to dart back in the presumable direction of its origin, westward toward the center of town. It stopped just before disappearing into the fog to give a final glance in the direction of the silly bipedal, and then zoomed along at the Speed of Rodent.

The paper itself was unremarkable, a bit of coarse parchment common to the area for day-to-day record keeping; it held ink readily without bleedthrough or spreading. It was decorated with simple and legible letters drawn with a precise hand in even, level rows, stating:

Rat Messenger's Letter

-
"Pay no mind to the instructions given to the rabble. You have earned my attention in a much more personal way. I would congratulate you outsiders on inconveniencing my work earlier, but I don't believe in excessive pleasantries. So I will be plain:

You have approximately twelve minutes to return what you stole from me and apologize on your knees for getting in my way. If you do, you may leave town unmolested by what happens next in this worthless little hamlet. I will even allow you to choose one person under my care to take with you. A certain lady who married into a winemaking family would be relieved to hear this.

If you are late, if you show disrespect, if you come spoiling for a fight, or if you decline my generous offer, I will rip into their flesh and rain our filth upon them. I will let all of them turn into gibbering beasts and butcher them like mutton. I will use their mangled bodies for spare parts and not think twice about it.

Come to the center of town. All of you. I will find you by the fountain. Or I will not. The choice is yours.

Sincerely,

- C. "

No more screams had echoed in the night air since the tiny messenger dropped off its parcel. The Township's environment seemed to be waiting on something, like a held breath poised for release, or a headsman's axe ready to descend upon command.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Interior B&B -> Exterior B&B Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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

The dramatic buildup of the past hour seemed to have come to a staggering and confusing intermission. Sure, Victoria was posed in the most adventurous and potentially dashing of poses (which, considering her penchant for professional performance and sense of charismatic self-awareness, was admirably enough dashing), her silvered rapier at the fore and Bardic spellcraft but a whisper away, clothing potentially rippling about her form at the lightest but most enabling of breezes. Were an appropriate gust of air not conveniently available, Victoria had no issue with expending a mote of magic to make it happen. The right impression was an important thing to establish, be it for an audience, friends, or enemies alike. Or the wrong impression, as the occasion called for it. The more performative aspects of her stance were ultimately wasted as the rising action of the evening came to a swift and confusing hiccup. Luckily, her quite-dead-yet-animated porcine companion didn't seem to notice the current challenge whatsoever.

Victoria remained cautious as she stepped forward, Morty keeping to her heel. Her eyes passed by the axe in the side of the building, flashing recognition, followed quickly by realization. Then anger. She looked to Baronfjord as he spoke about the axe being a warning and shook her head solemnly. "I do not believe that is a warning," she responded. Her voice held onto its usual mellifluousness but was colored with dire understanding. "Unless I am mistaken, this is the axe which Lady Kathryn lent to Cecily to protect herself. I believe," Victoria's words became more deliberate as she finished, "that this is a taunt. Madame L'Rose is in danger."

Her next intention was to look to Marita, a lady with whom she had little in common and likely would have never associated in other circumstances, and agree with her earlier call to action. She might have even engaged in a rousing (if short) speech to rally and inspire in support of this decision before marching boldly, but not stupidly, toward the probable location of those responsible. This was her intention, mind you, which was summarily waylaid by circumstance. In this case, said circumstance was Kosara talking to a rat in the middle of the street.

Pretense dropped, Victoria motioned with her sword to the tiny animal which was supposed to be in league with their enemies and shook her head, wordlessly at first, with her mouth agape. The most interesting, quizzical, off-guard expression covered her face. She motioned back in the general direction of the rest of the group, asking, "Everyone saw that, yes?" A shake of her head more and she voiced her support of Marita's plan with a more utilitarian statement of, "Let us figure this out quickly and go. I don't like that the whole town got one message and we, apparently, are given another." Victoria glanced up the road as far as the fog would allow her. There was a touch of impatience about her posture.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Game on.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

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

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

Weather: It is cold and foggy, hovering above freezing. At least the rain has stopped.

Time: Night. Early night, but the sun has fully removed itself from sight.

Ambience: The sound of water about Avonshire Township is restricted to the quiet but constant murmuring of the river which ran through it. The rain is gone, and enough time had passed that the excesses of the weather had filtered away into the settlement's quite effective drainage system. Sounds of distress can be heard every so often, punctuating the otherwise dead silence from the overall populace; it seemed that everyone was laying as low as possible. The full, pale moon is more readily visible now despite the thickness of the fog.

*******

That single moment in the Bed & Breakfast stood thick and eventful. Small movements, small decisions, and stimuli which would seem quite mundane under other circumstances impacted with urgent importance. Most notable in this was the thunk on the outside of the building, which startled Lizbeth horribly. She did not cry out in alarm but did whimper once with expectant trauma as her feet stamped reflexively and the hunched forward slightly. She shuffled the holy symbol over to her other hand which held the dagger and darted her now free digits out to take the sackful of caltrops from Kosara.

Lizbeth's feet soon found themselves taking a shuffling step back in the direction of the stairs. To utilize the stairs meant that she would have to initially move closer to the front door, which put her into temporary indecisiveness as rational thought strove to override her raw survival instinct to move as quickly and directly away from potential danger as quickly as possible. Baronfjord's words caught up with both halves of her senses. When he bade her to go upstairs, she obliged quickly. The tiniest of hesitation occurred as she paused just long enough to capture the mental image of the group assembling to open the main door and confront what lay beyond, but this gave way to the pragmatism of not being in harm's line of sight.

When the party was ready to charge and/or defend themselves from the horrors of the outdoors, the reinforced, wooden portal swung slowly, even cautiously, open. There as no monster waiting them. No quantifiable enemy awaiting a hasty lapse of judgement to strike; nothing obvious to lure them into something unfortunate. Just still, chilly air and the limited visibility of nighttime fog. Cautious eyes could readily find the source of the loud thump from earlier, however. It was obvious once revealed:

The handaxe left by Kathryn to better defend Cecily and Lizbeth against what was then an unknown danger lay embedded in the wooden doorframe, right at eye level. It stood silently as an unarticulated explanation, inferring things most foul. From the mist and darkness outside, a voice could be heard rising among the stillness. It spoke with great volume, and from a distance. "We have taken everyone we intended to this evening. Accept these losses and we will be gone by the morning light. Stray outside and you will be made food for beasts, and bound to serve us in death hereafter." Cruel mockery followed as the same voice intoned, "Have a happy and bountiful Harvestide."

Curiously, there is a single rat sitting up on its haunches in the middle of the street, facing the front door of the building. One paw holds up a carefully folded piece of paper and the other, against modern conceptions of common sense, looks to be waving at whomever it can see in the open doorway.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Interior B&B Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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

"Yes," spoke Victoria. Her voice was soft, even quiet, but clear and determined enough to provide verisimilitude for many a hardened skeptic. Her words were directed at Lizbeth, a clear answer to the simple question that she had posed just before. "We can help you, Lizbeth L'Rose. At least we can try." No promises, as was not her nature, except to make the attempt. It was a lot for Victoria. More than she had been willing to extend for anyone who wasn't a straight-laced elder Sheriff who had hinted strongly at continued incarceration were she to not accept an investigation contract. Admittedly, that thought was more than a little specific to her situation, but she had other factors keeping her in Avonshire, now. One of those factors was asking her for help, point of fact.

Victoria gave as reassuring a smile as she could to the little girl, her crystal blue, almond eyes shining with certainty. She fixed her features with grim but elegant resolution. With a visage of confidence, the Bard turned to the rest of the group. Her lips parted just slightly as she summoned words to inspire and motivate to decisive action, but before a syllable could be uttered, the hollow smash resounded from near to the front door. Her plans derailed, it seemed instinctual that her silvered, slender-bladed sword appeared in her hand, drawn before she consciously registered its movement. Her other hand stretched out before her, palm forward in the manner of one who might spring tendrils of arcane energy forth into the world of the mundane. Victoria cleared her throat quietly, readying her voice to be used as a weapon as sharp as any dagger. With her voice, she could disorient, damage, even close wounds and more. Whatever was behind the door would have to deal with the full brunt of a supported and protective group of near-desperate adventurers. Even if they had only known one another for a short time, Victoria was confident in possibility that they might actually operate in a synergistic fashion when it really, really counted. Equally as much, she hoped that it would really, really count soon.

The Dragonborn's words to Lizbeth echoed her own wishes for the girl and she spared a nod in her direction for exactly this reason before turning her attention back to the front of the room. She watched as Kosara made her proclamation to whomever or whatever lay beyond the heavy, wooden portal, and began to open it. All the while, Victoria subtly continued the song she had started earlier in the Public House:

"This is the day that we stand up
This is the day we fight
We'll take our place, we won't give in
Our victory's in sight..."

Conditions being met for a change of action from Morty, the burlap-swaddled minion trotted to flank its mistress and move slightly ahead. The animated beast stood quietly, its form braced to either begin, or receive, a charge.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

And there we have it. Update is updated, time is nigh, and things are thinging. Let me know how you wish to proceed.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

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

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

*******

Somewhere in the distance, a cry is cut short. The sound itself seems to punctuate the knowledge that a subtle and monstrous force is still using the citizens of Avonshire for its own nefarious ends. But inside of the Bed & Breakfast, the scene was emotional, if subdued. Lizbeth looked wide-eyed at Baronfjord while he attempted to calm her. And to his credit, what he said might very well have been reassuring. All she did was nod her head at the question of whether or not she was scared. The issuance of raw information was more forthcoming, as she did elaborate more on questions asked directly of her. "They're not my guests," she said simply, in response to the idea that they were, and that they might need to be checked on. "And that isn't Aunt CeeCee's writing." A sort of numbness seemed to have taken hold of her. Shock, possibly, as trauma had been in the events of the past couple of days. Tears still stained her cheeks, even if her expression became less animated.

Her reaction to Marita was a little more interactive. Little feet shuffled closer to the Cleric as she reached out for the dagger. Little hands clasped around the hilt. In her grasp, the weapon looked more like a shortsword. Nevertheless, she accepted it with a quiet, "Okay. Thank you." A small amount of hesitance came over her as the moved to accept the amulet. She said nothing, instead nodding her head slowly.

Kathryn's words of encouragement did not seem to have the desired effect. While she understood that the very tall woman was trying to relate to her, it did not ping the appropriate pinging place for her. Particularly the last part about being back soon seemed to disturb her. It was very similar to what was penned upon the letter left in the place of her missing aunt. Lizbeth did move toward the stairs, which would take her up to the room rented for the length of Harvestide. She stopped in front of Victoria, staring from her to Morty, and back again. "You can magic things. I've seen you. Can you help us again, please?" The last sentence looked like it was addressed to the whole group as opposed to just the Half-Elf.

A tense stillness draped over the room for a long second as the pleading voice of the little girl holding a silver etched blade requested assistance of the brave adventurers. Unfortunately, before a proper answer might be given, a booming, hollow, striking sound reported sharply from the exterior wall next to the front door, seemingly louder within the open space of the first floor's main room.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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

Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 3 HP: 23 / 23 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Interior B&B Action: N/A Bonus Action: Morty Reaction: N/A

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

"What?" asked Victoria, suddenly switching from her more emotive, serious nature to stare at their Dragonborn companion. She hoped that the fellow was a "cross the I's, dot the T's" kind of person and that this was an attempt to confirm what was something near to obvious - the practice of a cautious man in a fairly unfamiliar group of associates - and not a legitimately serious question from someone who honestly suspected that the upstairs was packed full of rats or wererats, with a little girl in the main room aware of, but indifferent to, their presence. "No, the... this is a lodging house," cautiously explained Victoria. "The place was flush with guests for the festival. I think all of the guests were Humans." It was a safe enough assumption. Or might have been, were there not a pressing issue of unknown persons throughout town being transformed into vicious, conniving myanthropes. That in mind, it might have actually been a fair and pressing question.

Kathryn seemed to be doing an effective enough job of making sure that little Lizbeth had some emotional support. This was usually her sphere of influence, owing to occupation, but so long as she felt safe and looked after Victoria would suppress her instinct to comfort. The gesture did give her an angle to see what was on the note. The script written upon it looked bold and blocky, not at all what she might have assumed came from a more delicate looking woman like Cecily. Though this was most certainly not her forte, mulling the possibilities over did brig her to another interesting thought: "Lea. She carried a note of her own when she informed us of Daisy's absence." Victoria let the statement hang there. "We have to do something before this gets worse." She looked over to Lizbeth. Memories of the previous evening came back unbidden, of her uncertain emotional state after having been through a lot the previous days. And of course, the little trick that she quietly performed that others has missed. Lizbeth seemed to have a strength about her that gave Victoria a touch of hope.

They could not take Lizbeth with them if they were stepping into a fight. Nor could they leave one of their number with her and stay at full force. And it seemed that, barring something being done, bringing her to their "camp" wasn't the best idea either. Was leaving her in this place tantamount to willful neglect of a child in need? Ordinarily, Victoria could detach from all of this and go about her merry, but for whatever reason Victoria was taking this child's interests personally. Quietly, the Bard suggested, "Maybe she should lock herself away in her room and hide, until we take care of this? Perhaps give her some silver, just in case?" Barring getting her back to their hidey-hole, which she might find preferable. Just then, Victoria wished she had a song or a snippet of spellwork that could explode many, many rats all at once. That would be a sight to behold.