Sigil

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Rose River Vineyard Action: Ritual Magic (Phantasmal Steed), Skill Check (Investigation) Bonus Action: Familiar stuff, Morty Reaction: N/A

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It was an interesting event for Victoria, varying the Ritual that she had mastered just a matter of weeks ago. Tiny alterations that kept the intent of the spell, but changed it up in mostly cosmetic ways. Mostly. The spell itself allowed for tack and saddle, and the dimensions of the beast summoned had some of that arcane wiggle room that allowed for the changes presented. In this case, the shorter, broader kind of horse that one might attach to a cart or wagon, as opposed to the taller, more majestic creature that stepped high and lively, which took to the saddle and nonverbal commands of its rider. She needed something hauled this time, as opposed to a grand appearance or a really, really fast jaunt. The fact that she made it look like it was wraith-like with a skeleton visible beneath the ghostly flesh was just there for ambience. Victoria did like to make an impression. Out this way, said impression was less likely to result in pitchforks and torches. She hoped.

Nevertheless, there was a bit of time between picking up the brandy and getting back to the site, which she used to speak candidly with Kathryn - except for the parts where Urmdrus insisted that she cease changing her size, which was not really her fault to begin with. In truth, she actually seemed to be rather pleased with the development. Magic being magic, the outfit she was wearing appeared to change right along with her. As for the things she kept tucked away in her travel chest; they were quality garments, a few of them quite expensive, even. But they were not bespoke and would not suffer much for the extra couple of inches. The armor which was not made yet and was to be customized? Different story. So she remained as polite as she was able to the gruff Dwarf and took to the remeasuring with civility. However, Kathryn seemed to have questions. So she took time to address them as best she might, circumstances being what they were. "My Identification Ritual is mostly useful for learning the qualities of things which I know are already imbued with magic. Usually intentionally imbued. And people who are enspelled somehow. The information gleaned from such a Ritual concerns the magic itself, not the properties of the object as a mundane item. It is not a perfect method of drawing knowledge from a location, nor the history of an object. Divinations higher than that which I can provide are necessary for that. But I shall help as I can." She spoke in a manner that was knowledgeable but open and kind, preferring to be considered a resource of information as opposed to a know-it-all with a pretty face. Though that last part was rarely a liability.

The friendly inquisition continued as they returned to the site to wait for Urmdrus. So she continued to play what role she had in this ...interesting... adventuring group, and speak to what she had some knowledge in. Victoria did not have all of the answers, but she did have some of them. "At initial thought, I cannot fathom a type of Undead creature that fits the description of the corpses in the distillery that require a specific time of the day or special circumstances to become active, save by an order from its controller or creator." She took a long second or two to consider the next question she could answer, and it was also not the most fruit-bearing of responses. "As much as my proclivities take me into grey areas which involve the ebb and flow of life forces, the spirit, and necrotic energies, I am more limited in my practical ability than a Wizard who specializes in the School of Necromancy. A True Necromancer of relative experience to myself is far more likely to be able to hold them in thrall. My studies emphasized versatility as opposed to hard specialization. To put it plainly, the most I might do directly is take myself away from their notice. Commanding randomly encountered Undead is not a talent I possess yet." Victoria's powers in this regard were awakening, strengthening, allowing her to come into her own, but in the aspect of direct magical power she would always be surpassed by a Wizard Specialist. Victoria was a smart young lady. She might have gone far in her studies if she dedicated herself to pure arcane schooling. She would have made a fine Wizard. Instead, she made a truly exceptional Bard.

There was a line of questioning that she could answer with a better degree of accuracy. "Yes! If an undead creature is ...hmm... dis-animated, and turned back into a normal corpse, I can cast a spell to speak with them. If the body has a mouth, it can speak back to me. Unfortunately, the ones down there are a little too damaged now. But if we happen upon another murder scene, I'm your girl!" She was a little too excited about that last part, and instantly realized it. A mildly embarrassed look came over Victoria's face and she let out a quiet, "Oh."

Baronfjord's comment about the open secret of Morty's origin, or more specifically the delivery of his comment, earned a slow turn of Victoria's head toward him. It looked a lot like annoyance on her features, and this assumption was bolstered by a likewise slow crossing of her arms across her chest. Her expression became almost the very image of a disappointed parent, dryly looking at the (still) taller Dragonborn Monk. Then a smile broke through, and the woman put one hand over her mouth as her head and shoulders pitched rhythmically in silent laughter. After a moment, sounds of genuine mirth followed. Victoria uncovered her mouth as quietish laughter spilled forth and she shook her head slightly, pointing a finger in Baronfjord's direction "Alright," she stated, "Point taken." She was quite put into a less dramatic mindset about her obvious status among her group, and lightened up a touch. "I shall make use of my Cabal of Enthralled Necromantic Evils and go investigate those grapes. If you will excuse me? I've skullduggery to accomplish." The last sentence was punctuated by a sweeping gesture and sarcastic lilt to her voice.

"In seriousness, I am bringing Morty with me. My Raven shall remain here, near the tree, and should anything unexpected or aggressive happen, I will know immediately." Victoria thought for a moment, "Should the same befall me, I can notify you through my Familiar, as well. Marvelous mimics, Ravens."

Victoria then set off. The place that she was told about was not so very far away, and like the hidden distillery, located in the southern section of the Vineyard. It might have been a little unsettling, moving from the more actively producing fields to one which was obviously slated for clearing and burning, but then she remembered that she was a pretty lady who used death magic and was accompanied by an animated barbecue on legs. This place did not corner the market on "unsettling."

The grapes were easy enough to find with the description given. Almost black, somewhat smallish, seemingly growing from dead and withered vines. Victoria was not an agriculturalist, and while this didn't seem right, she was at a loss to explain. Considering that there was magic of some kind that was, or used to be, in play here, perhaps the reason leaned that way. But basic investigative observations revealed nothing she was not already told. At least she made a point to see it for herself, so that she might reference it later if more information presented itself.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

And the update is, as we might have expected, updated. There was a bit of a delay, thanks to net outages in my area, but here we are. I just wish I didn't have to type the damn thing out on my phone, to be honest.

Moving right along - I'm sure the snowman will be lovely, and by no means will it become a tool of eldritch horrors in the near future. This aside, there is a barrier being built over the hole in the hill, please let me know if the party, or members thereof, wish to remain to oversee its construction. As the other site has not been explored yet, I have placed the same descriptive text from earlier into a hider for convenience's sake. If you choose to interact with it this cycle, it's available.

Per usual, get with me in our Discord for rolls and/ornto hammer out details.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Old Distillery

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Weather: The sun has progressed to its apex in the sky and just a touch beyond, not that one can experience it's warming rays firsthand. "Overcast," remains the word of the day. Chilly comes to mind as well. The winds are now steadily pushing the season's air upon you. Rejoice, those who dressed warmly.

Time: Give or take, it is about one-thirty to two-ish in the afternoon. Moving barrels, inspecting the tree, and finding alternatives to close off the distillery has taken a chunk out of the day, and we're all here for it.

Ambience: The most immediate of the smell of corpse-burn has wafted out of the hillside, though it's safe to assume that the lingering notes of radiant smolder and old rot are scheduled to be present for an indeterminate (but not short) amount of time. The air in here is heavy but breathable, and the details of brandy still hang in the background. The air outside of the distillery is, per usual, clean and clear but significantly chillier.

The barrels and equipment within held its integrity well enough, dry and solid on the outside, maintaining the contents within in a sort of quarantine while it continued to age, as it likely had been for decades.

The dead people are half bones and half ash. Whatever else might have been on their person of a more flammable nature is now part of that ash.

For the point of repeating things as least as possible, let us assume that until mentioned otherwise, the effects of the magic burst remains. Kat is still a little taller, Victoria is noticeably taller (but still the shortest one in party, go fig), Kosara still has flowers growing harmlessly in her hair, and Baronfjord, the Blue Dragonborn, is ...blue. I'm seriously never getting over that one.

*****

To kick things off, there is plenty of time to build a superior snowman while things are in the works elsewhere. If you need to hit the Coach House to get a carrot (or parsnip, whatever - get as creative as you need) for a nose, have at it. You go, Kosara.

Exploration of the area around the sycamore tree, as well as the tree itself, yields nothing except for a lighter amount of snow beneath the mostly bare branches, and an otherwise stout, healthy bit of upright flora. Regardless of what may or may not have been going on in the hidden distillery below, this tree seems to be apart from it, or at least unaffected.

The epic journey of barrels, now counting three thanks to the efforts of Victoria's Phantasmal Steed turned from shadowy riding beast to trotting, semi-transparent labor animal and Kathryn's indomitable physical prowess, make their way steadily over to the Coach House, hopefully as a temporary measure to await proper distribution or at least a formal query to the Vineyard's caretakers even if it might be understandable to keep it on the quiet. For study. Obviously.

As the party members who went to deliver the brandy to its destination were Kathryn and Victoria, they are the ones who meet up with Urmdrus, coming from his out-of-the-way smithy/shop/humble abode here on Vineyard property. He seems resolute, and carries a bulky, irregular sack of coarse cloth slung across his back. The bottom of this bulging burlap bag of bouncing befuddlement barely brushes the bare, beveled base of the boardwalk betwixt buildings, belying a bounty of beautiful bits and bobs for bestowal. He looked like he was headed in the general direction of the Estate House, and strode with purpose. This was, until he caught sight of the two adventuring women exiting the Coach House.

Urmdrus stared at the two of them in wonder for a moment as he drew close, shaking his head and copping an incredulous look at the both of them, as if he might begin scolding at any second. "Hrrrrrm..." he growled. The sack was deposited upon the ground and the Dwarf pulled a short length of rope from his tool apron. Those who were under his scrutiny in the past knew what to expect, mostly. The rope was marked off at regular intervals, and used deftly but with some annoyance as a measuring device while, and without requesting permission mind you, wrapped it around points of Human and Half-Elven anatomy and uttered what were probably numbers in an unusual dialect of Dwarven. In halting Common, he said at last, "STOP. CHANGING. SIZE. Custom work. Have to alter. Hmm."

He understood more or less, after what explanation was offered, that there was a "mysterious hole" that needed have a door installed over it and a means of barricading said door. He explained that he might do something "Fast, ugly," in a couple of hours, but assured that "...it will hold." He then went to specifically find Cecily to inform her of the developments.

It was another hour before Urmdrus came upon the site, pulling a cart laden down with wood and tools.

Anomalous Grape Site

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Elsewhere within the bounds of the southern fields, previously viewed anomalies remain for others to view. Barren (even for the winter season) vines entwine frames and stakes in orderly, slightly curved rows. It was a gradual change for those walking toward the affected area, but after a while those with any knowledge of agricultural processes would recognize the signs of a place marked for clearing and replanting. The few leaves remaining on these vines were brittle and dry; tendrils which were once vital and held the vines snugly to the planting frames were woody and snapped with ease. These plants appeared biologically incapable of supporting flower nor fruit. Nevertheless, two spindly bunches of smallish, near-to-black grapes hung from a vine, sporting tough, withered skins. They bobbed lightly as the cold, winter breeze pushed them about, an eerie sight of withered fruit growing on deceased vines.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Rose River Vineyard (Exterior Hidden Distillery) Action: Ritual Magic (Phantasmal Steed) Bonus Action: Familiar stuff, Morty Reaction: N/A

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Being a formal student of the Arcane, Victoria was still puzzled by the mostly desiccated corpses in the hidden distillery. Her magic didn't work on them, but Kosara's did. Yet they did not stir in the slightest, even to defend themselves. On the face of it, these facts were in contradiction to each other, based upon the uncertain status of the corpses. Before, when she began to have her suspicions, she did not share them with the group. Hindsight told her that this was a mistake. This was not Victoria's first adventuring party, even if it was some time since she was in one last, and she had to extend greater trust if she was going to have greater trust given to her in kind. So, the Bard set down the farm cart with a bit of a huff and addressed whomever was still in or around the entrance to the hillside. "I have formal tutoring in Arcana, and it's no secret that my magical proclivities bend toward the school of Necromancy. Here are the issues I have at the moment: To start, I attempted to use a spell to speak with the dead. It failed. The spell was cast, energy used, but it did not take. There are a few reasons this might happen. One of them is if the corpse affected is Undead. Further, Kosara was able to affect the bodies with a spell which only targets creatures, even if those creatures are merely Animated. Like Morty, here." Well, if anyone didn't already know (which would have surprised the Hells out of Victoria), it was now stated openly that she had a pet Undead thrall. The young Half-Elf shook her head and shrugged off her recently acquired knapsack to retrieve her Ritual Book. She continued, "Now, an unattended thrall, or a spontaneously occurring Undead creature - which, by the way, happens more often than you'd think - might attack the living outright, else it would definitely move to defend itself, even if just to try to move out of the way." Her book flipped open to a page detailing a spectral horse. She completed her thought, "Unless it had an existing command not to."

Victoria lat this hang in the air for a moment. There were implications present in this series of statements, which were all true to the best of her knowledge. Said implications were broad, however, so she left it up to others to add their own thoughts to the pot in hopes of getting a differing perspective. "Or this could be something completely different. This is just biased conjecture from my personal point of view. However, it occurs to me that some of these barrels need a better home, so if you will excuse me..." Victoria spent the next few minutes gathering up Ritual energies to form into another Phantasmal Steed. This one, unlike the usual form she chose of a sleek, bone-white riding horse with interesting, nigh magical details, was shorter, stockier, and semi-translucent. One could just barely make out the skeleton of the beast beneath the phosphorescent flesh, ghostly in nature but quite solid - at least solid enough to link its tack up to the cart. A slender socialite of a lady might pull an empty cart about with a little effort, but one laden with really good brandy? This required an amount of horsepower. "Very good, then. We've a little less than an hour before I have to reapply the Ritual. Let us load up what we might and locate it elsewhere, unless there are objections." In that moment, Victoria was somewhat tempted to go for another small glass of the magnificent brandy. Her raven flapped its wings heavily to rise form its perch, giving a quick look around on its mistress's behalf, and remained circling above.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Old Distillery

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Weather: Additional snow is threatened by the approach of clouds, just a touch thicker than overcast - as if they were plotting their own precipitous shenanigans upon the hills and valleys of the Vineyard. This approach is heralded not only by the lessening translucence of the clouds, but also the steady winds which swept the area, unburdened by heavy tree coverage or any appreciable wind blocks. It's not snowing just yet, however.

Time: Elevensies and a half, let's say.

Ambience: Radiant flames have half-turned corpses to ash, which is interesting in an of itself, but lent a different, burnt-corpse sort of smell to the air which replaced the more mouldering scents of just a few minutes prior. The heavy sweetness of old spirits production remains, though now muddled with holy cadaver scorch. But that's down inside of the distillery. Outside, it's significantly better of air quality even if it is significantly colder.

Full barrels and two distillery tanks take up most of the room within the hidden distillery, in surprisingly good condition despite their apparent neglect for a very long time. The stable, underground temperatures probably had a lot to do with this. The open door might begin to compromise the contents therein over time, but you're probably good for just now.

The dead people are half bones and half ash. Whatever else might have been on their person of a more flammable nature is now part of that ash.

A notation: The effects of the Wild Magic remain, now about a half hour past their onset.

*****

For those focusing on the full barrels, they are extraordinarily heavy and will require either ropes and animal assistance, a group effort, or someone particularly large and strong to manage them out of the hidden distillery. That is to say, Kathryn can roll them up the slanting tunnel with a far better chance of success than any single one of the others present. Still, a slip here could cause substantial damage to one below or behind a loose barrel.

Moving the barrels now has the options of rolling individual ones along footpaths and hope nothing bad happens, rolling a couple into the cart that Victoria provided and hope nothing bad happens, and returning to the Coach House to get the army wagon and mule to haul a greater amount away at one time.

Elsewhere within the bounds of the southern fields, previously viewed anomalies remain for others to view. Barren (even for the winter season) vines entwine frames and stakes in orderly, slightly curved rows. It was a gradual change for those walking toward the affected area, but after a while those with any knowledge of agricultural processes would recognize the signs of a place marked for clearing and replanting. The few leaves remaining on these vines were brittle and dry; tendrils which were once vital and held the vines snugly to the planting frames were woody and snapped with ease. these plants appeared biologically incapable of supporting flower nor fruit. Nevertheless, two spindly bunches of smallish, near-to-black grapes hung from a vine, sporting tough, withered skins. They bobbed lightly as the cold, winter breeze pushed them about, an eerie sight of withered fruit growing on deceased vines.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

Here we are again, once more I sit writing this harrowing take of ...stuff... and here you are reading it! It's almost like it was meant to be, what with the reading and writing. Makes sense, really. But anyway, to get to the meat of it, the situation hasn't changed a whole lot since the previous cycle, and certain elements of the update hasn't been gotten into, so admittedly there is a little copy/pasting involved here. The previous update here in the OOC still bears fruit, but here's a lightly altered recap:

1) There are two bodies still present in the hidden distillery. They are mostly destroyed now.
2) Multiple barrels of really good, very old brandy are still here to be dealt with. They are quite yummy.
3) The odd grapes are available for inspection, as Kosara spilled their location in the fields marked for clearing.
4) Two of the group actually drank the booze. Both of whom have less that stellar Wisdom scores. Go figure.

I know we have been going over possible actions to take in our Discord, and I am willing to toss some math rocks and arbitrate the spiffy plans that we talked about. Naturally, if there are questions, comments, concerns, or a call for a roll, please let me know in the Avonshire Discord and I'll see what I can do about it.

Last note - to restate from the Announcements channel, due to the holiday here in the U.S., everyone has an extra day to post. I will likely still make my updates on Monday evening, per usual. Or I may give myself an extra day, too. I'll figure it out when I get there. So, have a good holiday (if you celebrate it) and thanks again for joining me on this odd little adventure through rural D&D land's own lovely tract of wine country.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Rose River Vineyard (Exterior Hidden Distillery) Action: N/A Bonus Action: N/A Reaction: N/A

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Locating a pushcart large enough to be capable of moving a barrel or two wasn't difficult, seeing as this was crop bearing farmland, even if that crop was just grapes. The idea did cross Victoria's mind that any cart she could move by herself over not-quite-even terrain might not be the absolute best thing to transport full barrels of ...extremely fine brandy... along footpaths which wound between the hills of the Rose River Vineyard. The very thought that one of those barrels might careen off of the cart and into some hard and/or sharp surface, or merely crack under its own weight combined with falling from a moderate height, either method of damage resulting in all of that lovely brandy soaking into the cold, winter ground. But this was the best option available to them at the moment, so there she was.

Victoria's return to the entrance of the hidden distillery gave her a touch of pause. Something had occurred here in her absence, and she bet that the wisps of char on the wind might have something to do with that. This wasn't fully against what she might have suggested, were she to vocalize her suspicions as others had vocalized theirs, as her own attacking magic wasn't the best suited to immediately eradicate an opponent. Yet. But first, she addressed the rather loud topic at hand, putting her opinion in the open. "Of course, I agree. I also think that Cecily L'Rose, or even we, may wish to get back in there." She regarded the gaping hole in the side of the hill, and the barrels Kathryn was rolling out of it. "If for no other reason than the realms shouldn't be deprived of that ...very excellent brandy..." She trailed off for a moment but snapped back readily, "Though a fresh set of eyes on the situation, or the passing of a day for reflection, might reveal more."

Then it occurred to Victoria that there was a conversation ongoing concerning her use of magic in the recent past, this from their resident "Half-Giant" which probably needed addressing before it led to a further misunderstanding. "Oh, I don't have that kind of detection magic. There might be something in one of the Ritual books I acquired recently, but I haven't been able to translate the Pact Magic version into something I can use yet." She shook her head to reorient her conversational direction, as she was beginning to get off of her point. "In any case, I didn't use a Detection incantation on the Constable's hammer. It was an Identification spell, cast in Ritual form. I already knew the hammer was magic from its use in the fight on Harvestide; detection was unnecessary. Do you wish to learn about Arcana? Perhaps there's something further to unlock in the mind of the magically curious."

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Victoria Belmont Half-Elf, Bard, Level 5 HP: 33 / 33 Armor Class: 15 Conditions: N/A Location: Rose River Vineyard, Hidden Distillery -> Exterior Hidden Distillery Action: Skill Check (Arcana) Bonus Action: Familiar Stuff, Morty Reaction: N/A

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Something was off about this place, and it wasn't just the fact that a piece of magic she was looking forward to using decided to fail on her. Victoria was certain she had done it correctly. So there had to be a caveat somewhere; a condition that existed or that wasn't fulfilled which muddled the spell somehow. Mentally, she prodded about for what that missing piece might be. There was usually a bit of wiggle room with things like this - exact wording to keep the practitioner of Arcana within certain lines of safety - so that a toe may step over a line or small liberties taken with minimal risk. But there were always hard and fast metrics that, when not adhered to, caused a spell to "fizzle". Victoria was certain that this happened here.

The subject of Speak With Dead must not have been affected by it for ten days prior. Considering that the place was walled off, this was probably not the case. The corpse must have some semblance of a mouth, from which it may speak. This condition was filled. The corpse cannot be...

A sudden flash of quiet inquiry flashed over Victoria's face, even as the markings of her preferred school of magic left her face. Sparkling, crystal blue eyes regarded the attempted subject of her spell with renewed interest, but she kept herself quiet. Guarded, even. The general consensus of people's faces brought her to the conclusion that there were notes of suspicion from the others, too. A quick mental command brought her Morty to interpose itself between her and the corpse, and she spoke with a projected, optimistic voice. "No, Master Baronfjord, I do not suspect that the surge altered my magic." She then looked to Kathryn, saying, "Perhaps we should get what we need and leave this place for now. The remains can be properly interred when we know more of them. Now if you all will please excuse me, I shall be right back, after getting a push cart from the workshed nearby."

Victoria met eyes with each of her companions present and then looked warily at the corpse she could not magically converse with just earlier. Her Morty maintained its interposing stance as she exited the distillery, careful not to stumble on her way back up to fresher air. Once out, Victoria did do as she said she would, but first gave her Raven Familiar a hard stare, imprinting a course of action that it may take involving staying put and lending its senses if necessary. Satisfied, the Bard twirled her cloak about her shoulders against the bracing winter wind, and set off for the nearby shed. She was returning with a cart for a barrel or two of that lovely distilled spirit, and she hoped that her silent insistence for caution was received.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

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Rose River Vineyard

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Old Distillery

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Weather: Steady winds now blow out in front of the recently uncovered passage underneath the sycamore hill. Perhaps these winds were responsible for the approaching cloud cover, which could mean nothing. Or it could mean more snow. For now, nothing drifts softly from the sky just yet.

Time: Late morning. Let's say Elevensies.

Ambience: The air within the hidden distillery has let out somewhat. It is still its specific sort of dank, but much less overpowering. At least one can figure out the source now - two corpses and a fine collection of utilized distilling equipment. In fact, knowing the difference lets one's senses fully appreciate the sweeter air coming from the outside, which beckons with its clear jolt of colder air.

The crates, barrels, and two distillery tanks remain inside, in good condition considering their sedentary nature over the years. Though neglected, this underground hideaway maintained fairly stable and dry conditions. It is mostly safe to assume their integrity for travel if necessary. The barrels, at least. The tanks look a bit harder to move.

The dead people remain being dead, but... well, more below.

Those venturing back outside will note that the temperature has not risen a whole lot from earlier in the day. The glistening elements that signal the beginnings of a thaw did not progress any farther, meaning the sun's most direct rays were kept behind the semi-translucent grey and white clouds above. The hills in this area are mostly untouched, save by the footpaths trudged into common walking areas.

A notation: The effects of the Wild Magic remain.

*****

Kosara's search of one of the bodies bore a marginal amount of fruit, if one considers a few small tools and some silver coins marginal fruit. The advanced decomposition makes things a little difficult and something may have to be done to make these items more pleasant to be around, but we take the wins where we can get them, yes?

In contrast, Baronfjord's misadventures with dead people continues. The leathery remains of the corpse's face-meat, particularly that of an eye, yields with barely a hint of pointy, Dragonborn poking. The smell is, to put it as accurately as possible, suboptimal. What might have been a particularly dead stare (were there functional eyeballs present) seems to be the only reaction from the corpse. In other words, the questions put to the slab of decomposed former Human go unanswered. In its own way, the rictus grin of the dead guy might even appear as a mocking smile to the context provided.

For those focusing on the barrels, and contents thereof, one can readily figure out that they are an excellent size to roll up the tunnel and to the outside, as it the width of it was cut to specifically accommodate said barrels. Also, the full barrels are extraordinarily heavy and will require either ropes and animal assistance, a group effort, or someone particularly large and strong to manage them out of the hidden distillery. Unless one wishes to roll the barrels across the vineyard, one may avail themselves of simple levers and pushcarts located within the tool sheds nearby to the fields. Alternatively, an actual wagon might be a less labor-intensive option, though it requires a full return to the lands around the Estate House, temporarily taking one further from the continuing investigation.

Elsewhere within the bounds of the southern fields, previously viewed anomalies remain for others to view. Barren (even for the winter season) vines entwine frames and stakes in orderly, slightly curved rows. It was a gradual change for those walking toward the affected area, but after a while those with any knowledge of agricultural processes would recognize the signs of a place marked for clearing and replanting. The few leaves remaining on these vines were brittle and dry; tendrils which were once vital and held the vines snugly to the planting frames were woody and snapped with ease. these plants appeared biologically incapable of supporting flower nor fruit. Nevertheless, two spindly bunches of smallish, near-to-black grapes hung from a vine, sporting tough, withered skins. They bobbed lightly as the cold, winter breeze pushed them about, an eerie sight of withered fruit growing on deceased vines.

Avonshire - D&D Based Adventure

@rivaan@Shoe Thief@Sigil@Arty Fox

And here we are once again, balancing upon the knife's edge of greatness and disaster, all within the mercies of our decisions and the whim of the polyhedrons. I do sometimes wish that I could divulge things, or bits of lore which shape the events unfolding, but that would cheapen the event overall. To that end, I suppose it's one spoonful at a time. So let us focus on the issues of the in-game moment:

1) There are two bodies still present in the hidden distillery.
2) Multiple barrels of really good, very old brandy are still here to be dealt with.
3) The odd grapes are available for inspection by anyone accompanying Kosara to the fields marked for clearing.
4) Two of the group actually drank the booze. We'll discuss later.

All I can say it that you're getting into the meat of it now; nibbling upon the fatty endpiece of the roast as a whole and set to delve into the bulk of it with gravy-laden gusto. Get with me in our Discord to discuss where you're going from here and what your individual character's plans are, whether you're splitting the party to cover more tasks or if you're sticking together to tackle things one at a time. Per usual, DM me for rolls, questions, and such.

And also, think about what you're going to be doing to cover the downtime between events. We're here in wine country for the whole season, and some of us are picking up new bits of education, skills, training, and experiencing new things only available in this charming, rural paradise (that probably won't end up as a precursor to an '80s slasher flick). Above all, have fun.

@Pirouette If you are still interested in joining, please get with me on character concept and if you have questions concerning the listed rules for character generation or the general RP, "session zero" stuff, and the like. I am a fan of making entrances as organic to the setting as possible. I might also suggest getting with the current players for their input. They've been at this for a while now.