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"You are correct, certainly. However, my own talents lie in different areas. And the icehouse itself is clearly not a magical construct, merely a cave, albeit a deep one. Once you get more than five feet or so below grade, the ground tends to approach a temperature close to the year-round average ambient experienced on the surface, you see.
"In a climate such as this, an area such as this, that temperature would tend to be somewhere slightly above freezing.
"On a similar note, it has frequently been reported by those who have had physical contact with vampyrs that they are cold to the touch. Conventional wisdom credits their link to some reservoir of negative energy, but I suspect that a more likely cause is the time they spend in their graves. Without any metabolism to speak of, and with no exposure to the light and thus the heat of the sun, they are likely to remain at a similar temperature to the place where they spend most of their time, there being nothing to heat them up."

Liri does her best to retain a straight face as she struggles to extract the information out of the torrent of words leaving Fraso's mouth. When he is finished, she says: "Well then, it seems like out only choice is to travel fast. Let us not linger."

She steers her mare out of the way, preparing to find a suitable spot for them in the caravan.

"Yes, let us go, we are a sitting target." Angel says in agreement, as she spurs Praesul onwards.

Bastian mutters a prayer for safe travel from the back of his mount. When he finishes, he pours a measure of random liquor upon the ground. His mule staggers sideways and brays, though Bastian quickly sets her back upon the right path and says "Gertrude says 'Amen'."

"Just a moment." Angel pulls up Praesul with a jolt. "The Body needs to be kept cold?" She rubs her head, "Filaris and his crew catch fish that need to be kept cold, they are then fresh to eat.. Perhaps..."

She looks straight at Fraso, "We can get most of the way by boat can we not?" she gives a smile and looks to the wagon, or perhaps we can use the ice to on the wagon?" She waits for a response, looking to Daos for an idea.

"The cold would slow down the decay process," Daos agrees. "However, unless the corpse and the ice are contained in an airtight receptacle, the ice is likely to just melt. There's also the matter of how we would obtain ice this time of year."

(OOC: What time of year is it, anyway? I assume it's not winter, at any rate.)

"Isn't there any ice left in the icehouse, Daos?" Liri lokks a bit puzzled.

"Maybe we can get some there. And while an airtight container may be good to our noses, it won't keep the ice from melting. A few sacks of wool would do better, but no one would want it later, as the smell's never going to wear off. But maybe we can get a few old sacks with old straw somewhere. That's quite a good insulator."

After a moment of thinking, Liri's face lights up. "You know what? I could ride down to the elven settlement and get some of the singed thatch from the house that was burned down yesterday. They'll be happy to get rid of it, and we can use it."

"The...icehouse. Of course," Daos says. He sighs and dismounts his horse. It's clear they aren't going anywhere just yet.

"Yes, Daos the Ice House, I guess we go get some ice.. Angel shrugs, slipping off Praesul.

"Bastian, I suggest you stay here." She smiles, observing him watch Liri leave..

Bastian shrugs and says "I can do that. I don't think Gertrude would turn around easily at this point anyway."

Given the manpower available, and the skill of the local woodworkers, outfitting the wagon as an icebox takes no more than an hour. The bed and walls of the wagon are lined with sawdust for insulation, covered with oilcloth and stacked with block ice, creating a nest for the body. The body, also wrapped in oilcloth, is lowered into the prepared cavity and covered over with ice, followed by more oilcloth and sawdust.

"Should last awhile," says carpenter Gar Hansson, looking at his work. "Just take it easy on the wagon. She's pretty heavy right now."

Heavy enough, in fact, that Fraso is forced to abandon much of his luggage at the villa, although Neeri promises that Lord Culla, at his own expense, will have the stuff shipped back to Fraso's house in Diotua, so that Fraso will not have to endure another trip to Orr's Bay to retrieve it. Likewise, various supplies are jettisoned or distributed to your various mounts to lighten the load. This includes Salia, who rides double with Angel to start.

The odor of the body, although noticeable, is no longer overpowering. As long as the ice holds up, conditions should be bearable.


Thus, only slightly behind schedule, your group sets out towards Eastfair.

As she doesn't have to ride to the elven settlement to get insulation material, Liri dismounts and leads her mare to a spot in the shade where she can graze a bit. She then walks over to Angel.

"That's a fine mount you have, Angel. What's his name?"

(Ooc assume Liri is talking her as they prepare to set off.)

Angel grooms Praesul gently, pulling the knots from his mane before reacting to Liri's arrival.

"Praesul has been with me for many years, the seller said he has spirit.. He is loyal and reliable." Angel shifts on her feet, her gaze never staying on Liri for too long. "We ride soon." she motions to the waggon, a small smile appearing as Salia walks her way.

(Back to the present.)

Angel rides carefully and considerately, conversation is kept to a minimum, she is obviously slightly uncomfortable.

Riding alongside Liri she does ask questions of the Elves,

"I do not know much of my Mothers people, I would like to ask.." she blushes, unsure what to say.

Bastian overhears the conversation beginning and rides forward. "I've heard that because elves live longer, all of their "activities" take longer to perform." he says with a sly smile.

Liri turns around and faces Bastian directly, her voice is hard.

"I will not comment on that now, Brother Bastian. But I am sure that your informant also told you that elves tend to take etiquette seriously. And interrupting a beginning conversation with a totally unrelated topic is a grave affront."


Brusquely, she turns away again and moves as close to Angel as Praesul's and Casta's (her mare's) comfort allow.
"We elves are not just one people, similar to humans, we live in different cultures. But feel free to ask, I will tell you what I know."