faderift | [ CLOSED ] WAR TABLE: INVESTIGATE COMTESSE DE VELONEY

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[ CLOSED ] WAR TABLE: INVESTIGATE COMTESSE DE VELONEY

WHO: Herian, Anders, Issana, Velanna, Pam, Malcolm
WHAT: A series of disappearances in the Orlesian countryside has culminated in the vanishment of some of the Inquisition's own scouts. A team has been sent to investigate the estate of one Comtesse Eléonore Vaillant de Veloney.
WHEN: Over the span of 4 days in the 2nd week of Harvestmere.
WHERE: Estate of Comtesse Eléonore Vaillant de Veloney
NOTES: Trauma, gore, dark themes, homicide, pretentious wine usage, other things not labeled as to avoid spoilers.

Welcome to the Estate

It is a terrible misfortune, all these disappearances- but with a civil war on and all this strange Venatori and Red Templar activity- with the rifts in the countryside? People simply not appearing where they ought is a sad reality. Nothing to be done for it. That such an esteemed noblewoman has found herself unjustly accused simply due to her wealth and prosperity? Cannot stand. Comtesse de Veloney invited the Inquisition herself to investigate her manor and put the matter to rest- they are to be afforded all the cooperation and respect imaginable.

Even the mages. Even the elves.

They are met at the gate by a veritable delegation of footmen led by the Gardener and Tanner to see them inside and out of the stormy, dreary weather. Packs are secreted off to rooms (a lovely set of suites in the east wing if the Steward does say so herself), baths drawn (The Comtesse insists, it's been just dreadful and they've come all this way), and a lavish banquet prepared.

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As with the dining area, the luxury of the guest quarters is more than Inessa is accustomed to for multiple reasons. Though life in a tent can be tiring at times, she can't quite bring herself to relax in surroundings so lavish. After he'll knock over or break something, the Grey Warden has stern words with Garahel, who huffs but nonetheless restrains himself from his more enthusiastic moments, at least for now.

During down time, she can be found in her room, reading when Garahel is asleep or spoiling him if awake. Or, if spotting a light on below their door, Inessa will quietly knock and ask to enter theirs. Normally, she can keep to herself just fine, but in this instance, it seems best to compare impressions.

She's a little more hesitant about contacting the staff, not wanting to bother them, but overcomes that to request towels from the house maids. Garahel needs a good rub-down thanks to the storm, and Inessa won't have her mabari dripping all over the place.

Cheerful even at this late hour, they are more than happy to fetch a set of towels for Inessa's Mabari- returning with a stack freshly warmed, a few Mabari Crunch secreted inside. Spoiling a guest does not limit itself to only the human (and elven) members of the Inquisition after all. A particularly plump girl with bouncy curls that answers to Margret delivers them with a smile.

"I haven't seen a proper mabari in ages." Her accent marks her as Fereldan. "Only them little wolfhounds they say are good as mabari but aren't."

Garahel is very excited when Margret enters, tail wagging enthusiastically as he catches scent of that mabari crunch, running around in a happy circle around her. Inessa gestures for him to settle down, smiling as she recognizes that accent. Another Fereldan around puts her a little more at ease in a place where she's definitely out of her element.

"Thank you. He appreciates the attention, you can be sure. Less of it is received on this side of the border." She takes one of the towels, quirking a smile as Garahel snaps to attention. Well, he's been a good boy, so he can have one of the treats for now...which he promptly inhales. "What brings a fellow Fereldan so far from home?"

"Calm down, calm down, I got you sorted now you big handsome thing you-" Marget laughs, well pleased as she sets the towels off to one side- and gives the snacks to his master. There's a moment of hesitation when she reaches to scratch him behind the ears, waiting for Issana's go ahead. "Well it's like a big finishing school innit? We get paid to live nice and keep clean and learn our letters and afterward the Comtesse helps us find husbands and somewhere nice to live once we're all caught up. Susan got herself a proper merchant. Much better than holding out for your cousin's friend the next farm over."

Inessa nods, giving full permission as though Garahel isn't practically aching for petting at this point. He rumbles happily at that behind-the-ear scratching, responding by licking her hand when she's done. Yay, you're his new best friend.

"So you're treated well? That's very good to hear. I'm glad you have such opportunities available." Inessa's not going to turn her nose up at such prospects when she knows education is harder to come by for non-mages and non-nobles. "Will you be here much longer, then?"

"Who's a gallant lad, mm? Who's a brave mabari?" Petting and scratching and licking abound for a moment, Margret lost in a truly Fereldan love of the hound, giggling all the while.

"Ah, well. I'm a little behind on my maths- not good at it. But the Steward's helping me catch up with the rest so I can maybe get a Merchant or a scholar or summat for myself. The Comtesse has these lovely parties where she invites the men she's arranging the marriages for and we all get to dress up lovely and it's like one of them fairy stories." Margret sighs, eyes dazzling. "She even puts down a dowry to match whatever our family's got for us back home- or covers all of it if we don't have much of a family anymore."

"He is very brave, at that. A finer warrior and companion, I have never met." Inessa knows Garahel doesn't need the ego boost, but it's still true. She chuckles softly, glad to see someone enjoy his company almost as much as she does. Maker knows he'll find that a rare experience, in Orlais.

She raises her eyebrows at mention of the Comtesse, impressed by what she's hearing. "That sounds wonderful. This arrangement, is it common in Orlais? Or is she a more generous soul than most? It's not something I remember encountering elsewhere, but my experience in these estates is limited."

"Pff, no. You go to work and get paid a pittance, maybe get scraps from the kitchens if you're lucky and the cook likes you, maybe get a chance to read if they don't keep all the books locked up, maybe work till you find a porter or a gardener on the same estate to have children with. Maybe." An awful lot of maybes for a half decent life- or a good one here. "She takes care of us. Calls it her Civic duty or somth'n like that. Now and then there are proper ladies from noble families what come in and get taught up like us- turn up their noses like we aren't anything but the Steward straightens them out. Even the elves- pardon my saying so- get treated proper here. Not like other Orlesian estates what make 'em sleep like dogs in sheds."

Inessa nods grimly in response, not intimately familiar with such treatment but aware of it nonetheless. "No, I understand. I hadn't expected that they would receive fair treatment as well, but it's heartening to know. And I'm glad that it's not just the Comtesse, that the Steward sees to your welfare as well. Not many would defend a servant over a noble. I can't imagine that makes her too popular with those of rank, does it? Or do they overlook it for the sake of their daughters' education?"

"She's come up from low places like most of us. Has our backs. The Comtesse-" Margret sighs. "She's just so poised, so elegant- so cultured. Always all mysterious in mourning, you know? All the ladies at Court want to be like her- or have their daughters learn to be like her. So they put up with it. I mean. I'm never gonna land me a noble husband. A merchant, maybe but- so we're not competition. Besides. If they complain too much, they get sent home."

"Oh, she married into wealth? That does explain much." Those born to less don't take good fortune for granted, as she knows well. "How long has she been in mourning? Would it be crass to ask what happened?"

Garahel, nosing around for the rest of the treats, then plops down to inhale them enthusiastically. What is this saving them for later nonsense?

"Nobility's different in the Imperium. If you're not a mage? You aren't anything. But the Comtesse? Doesn't care who you are or what you are- as long as you're willing to work and learn? She'll keep on. I mean- she does have rules for us about keeping clean and eating proper, but that's no hardship." Good food, nice clothes? A maid's dream, really. "...'bout ten years now, I think. Long before I ever got here. Some kinda sickness."

Mention of Tevinter has her nodding, having seen that much. But Tevinter itself is not on her list of favored subjects, so she'll keep her focus. "That's unfortunate, though it speaks to her character that she has persevered. I can admire a work ethic, and raising up others in the process."

"She's come through pretty well. We all have. Coupla noble suitors come through trying to catch her eye but she's not having it. I think the late Comte might've been the love of her life- can you imagine that? Something so strong you're holding tight even a decade later?" Margret is given to a dreamy sigh. "I hope she finds me someone like that when it's my time. It should be soon, though! She said."

Inessa smiles softly at the thought, nodding. "I hope so, too. A little patience can reap great rewards. Do you keep in contact with those staff who marry out? Do they visit?"

"I write them, cuz I know how and it's good practice for our letters and keeping ledgers like a proper wife does for her homestead and household...but none of them write back." For a moment her perky cheer dims, and not even the Mabari's leaning into her scratches prompts a smile. "Even Susan. I thought we were friends, you know? We been here together for three years, learning, working. She promised she'd write soon as she got settled with her husband and a few months ago she gets sent off to be married and...nothing. Guess her new husband has her busy. Guess they're all busy. None of 'em come back."

That is a rather unexpected response and Inessa's frown is one of sympathy. Perhaps it is just distraction, but all of them? Garahel nuzzles the nice house maid, not wanting her to be sad. "I'm sorry. I know the civil war has everything in upheaval, and it can be difficult to get word through even in more settled areas. If you can inform me of their locations, or at least where they ought to be, I can ask at least attempt to check on their status for you."

"Maybe that's it. I mean-" She stops for a moment, looking down at Garahel. Pets his ears gently as she gathers her thoughts. "There are some whispers, you know? Silly things. Patterns, stuff we learn to pay attention to so we can be proper partners to merchants and the like, yeah? Well Ophelia says that she's seen a pattern in what girls get sent off or end up getting sent home early. The big ones, she says. Big girls that are a little chubby. Maybe that's what's considered pretty nowadays? We don't get sent out much once we get here. Tend to stick to the estate and the like."

"Ophelia...she's a housemaid as well?" Inessa will have to remember that name, and perhaps seek her out later. Margret's information is valuable, but it can't hurt to have another perspective. "As I am not at all privy to Orlesian trends, I cannot say for certain. I suppose in a time of widespread famine, when armies are devastating crops, a fuller figure would be seen as an advantage. And I understand; you're rather busy here, and it's less than safe outside."

It might not be any safer inside, either, but Margret has been kind and Inessa would rather not worry her without actual proof.

"Mhm! She's next up to be sent off, I think, but the Comtesse is a little cross with her. Not much but- and I dunno why-" Margret's voice drops to a whisper. "She quit eating so much. Maybe she's scared of getting married? She was supposed to be sent off three times now, I heard. I dunno what it's on about- if she tells the Comtesse she's not ready to go I'm sure she'd let her stay."

It doesn't make any real sense to her. "This time's it, though. Two days time her carriage is supposed come and off she'll be."

"Cold feet? I can see it happening, even for a good match. Maybe she just needs a little more time to get used to the idea. I'll wish her well when I see her." Tomorrow she'll find Ophelia, then, and see if the housemaid is willing to share any information.

"You should ask for her if you see her- she loves Mabari. Apparently grew up near one of them noble houses what breeds 'em, got to see the puppies now and then. Misses home something fierce." It wouldn't be hard to see her. "Most of her working hours are in the morning and afternoon. If that'll be all, Ser Warden, Ser Mabari?"

Garahel whines a little, not eager to see his new buddy leave. But Inessa shushes him. "You'll see her again, I'm sure. We'll be here a while longer."

Turning to smile at Margret, she nods. "I'll be sure to do that, then. And I won't keep you further from your work. Thank you for your time, Margret."

"I'll come up with snacks tomorrow evening, yeah? A big ole soup bone for him and some honey milk for you. Help you sleep. Always hard to fall asleep in new places, innit? Even with all the fancy mattresses." Marget is back to being bouncy, ringlets springing as she ducks down to pet Garahel one last time before she sweeps back out. "Sleep well!"

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[ CLOSED ] WAR TABLE: INVESTIGATE COMTESSE DE VELONEY

House Maids, first day

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