[ CLOSED ] WAR TABLE: INVESTIGATE COMTESSE DE VELONEY

[comtessedevelony]

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.

Comments

[circleprodigy]

Despite his bulk, Garahel can be surprisingly quiet. He pads ahead of Inessa, both protective and inquisitive as he follows that trail. Inessa remains calm but alert, looking for any sign of Malclom when they get close enough, or anyone else who might in the maze with them.

[comtessedevelony]

In the center of the maze, which they find given a few turns and dead ends, is a small clearing with a fountain. Next to it- upturned earth, rows of small blossoms and bushes with their roots bound in dirt and burlap for planting- and The Gardener, with what looks like an apprentice handling the shovel.

Unaware of their audience the Gardener sighs and speaks slowly. "You must work around the pipe and established roots. We don't want to hurt them. Here, add more of the ash and meal."

There, the sound of the shovel hitting something, dipping in to a barrel of just that. Ashes and bonemeal. A large barrel of ashes and bonemeal.

[tactical_alert]

Malcolm chooses to interrupt the moment, clearing his throat. "I do apologise," he starts politely. "I had no idea anyone was at work here. Sprucing up the maze, are we?"

[circleprodigy]

Upon reaching the center of the maze, Garahel sprints ahead of Inessa, sniffing anew at the upturned earth and the barrel. His elven mistress joins Malcolm, looking over the area as she awaits the answer to his question. "The blossoms are quite lovely. Your work is to be commended."

She smiles politely, but is just as interested in what Garahel turns up as she is the blossoms and workers. Assuming there is anything to find, of course. Sometimes he just likes rooting around in the earth, though he knows better than to go digging in a well-tended garden without reason.

[comtessedevelony]

The Gardener stands, dusting his hands from where he'd been scattering ashes. "Thank you. We pour our sweat, blood, and tears into this garden."

He sets a still somewhat ashy hand on the branch of a nearby bush, fingers stroking the leaves as fondly as one might a favored pet. "It is important to the Comtesse that we care for it properly. Which means-"

A significant look is given to the apprentice, who sighs. "Which means using light layers of the ash and meal for every plant. Even if it takes forever."

"Exactly." The Gardener smiles, showing white teeth. "Do excuse the mess. We shall have this ready in a day or so, then you can see it with the fountain on."

Garahel will find the same dust that is on their hands scattered at the roots and base of every bush, every flower- around every plant in the garden in fact.

[tactical_alert]

"That's about the same as we've heard everything else gets done around here. Very specific care, by well-trained hands, for the best results in the area." He nods to the barrel. "A particular blend that I'm told you sell? The amount you must have to go through for all the plant life around here! However do you keep up?"

[circleprodigy]

As Garahel returns to her side, at least for the moment, Inessa pats him. "It's everywhere, isn't it? Just remember, no digging here. We won't undo all their hard work."

She nods with a smile at the works. "That sounds well worth any wait or mess. Quality can't be rushed." She can appreciate being thorough, even though their callings are quite different.

[comtessedevelony]

"We do. The Garden gets the first cut as those that would question the potency of the mixture witness the results for themselves." The Gardener's voice lilts, his Antivan Accent coiling pleasantly in the ears. "The sausage we make and sell- the bones of our hogs goes into a grinder and that meal, along with ashes from our smoker, are mixed with a few...secret ingredients. We make the large batches once a month."

[tactical_alert]

"I suppose every good recipe has a few secret ingredients. I bet you guard it with your lives." Malcolm gives a shallow smile. "I'm not much of a gardener, I'm afraid. I don't know if I've a green thumb or black; I've never tried. How fares your apprentice here?"

[circleprodigy]

"And how has the civil war impacted availability? Are these ingredients harder to acquire these days?" Almost always whenever anyone speaks of the war, it's in terms of adverse affects. Yet, the estate seems to be prospering so she's naturally curious as to how they overcome such hurdles.

[comtessedevelony]

"He comes from a family of farmers- already has a feel for the land and things that grow. Now he only needs to learn how we do things here." There's no small measure of pride in Roland's voice- his apprentice perking up before resuming his earlier scattering of ashes and meal.

"Some of them are difficult- but most of what we need? We produce. The bones come from butchered hogs used for our sausage, ash from compost that we burn and the ashes from our smoker. Very little goes to waste." He turns his head to nod at the slaughter house- and it is difficult to see on his skin normally but in this sun? Three curving lines are tattooed into his skin in a familiar pattern.

[tactical_alert]

He notices the tattoo, though he doesn't immediately place any significance to it. What does strike him is a question more for the butcher. It's an awful lot of bone (and smoker ash) to be able to cover the garden and still sell off. And they certainly make a great deal of sausage for their trade. Do they honestly have that many hogs, perhaps that many who give birth to keep up with the demand? Otherwise they would have to get swine from outside to help keep up, and that would make things difficult.

(For a moment he thinks his father would better know these answers than him, about the Bannorn farms and the livestock and the way of life that Malcolm hadn't picked up, too eager to run off to the Templars. The roads not traveled.)

"I would wish you luck as the war goes on, but honestly, it doesn't seem like you need it." He inclines his head politely, no further immediate questions. Inessa can find him after. "I look forward to seeing this all finished up and in its glory. Gentlemen. Lady." Exit, stage where Inessa came from to keep up the pretense that he was just wandering through the maze, might as well find the exit hm.

[circleprodigy]

The pattern is definitely known to Inessa, who has seen Zevran's own tattoos. There's little visible reaction on her part other than a momentary gaze, but she'll be sure to mention it later. "I see. Thank you for your time, I won't keep you from your work. Garahel, come."

Nodding politely, Inessa exits the maze at a leisurely pace, seeing no reason to rush and not wanting to give the impression that there was any reason for doing so. Upon spotting the Seeker again, she heads over, eyebrow arched and her voice pitched low. Not exactly a whisper, just not intending to shout the news. "I've seen those tattoos before; Zevran, our former Crow, has them."

[tactical_alert]

"You think he's a Crow?" He's very, very rarely been around them enough to know that they bear a tattoo. Malcolm rubs at his chin in thought. "That complicates things further. If our people are dead, I would not normally suspect this staff, but if they've trained killers among them..."

That's thing one. He motions around the garden. "And I understand that they do enough work around here to feed themselves and do trade, but I cannot fully believe one woman kills enough pig to have enough bone to grind up enough for this entire garden, in such large barrels, and still have some to sell. Perhaps they do it on a monthly basis, but still...it seems like a lot, doesn't it?"

[circleprodigy]

Inessa crosses her arms and nods, frowning in thought. "That's quite a lot of ground bone, yes. I think I'll take Garahel over to the bone pit soon, see what he can find. If there's more to this, I suspect we'll find answers there. The butcher is reputed to be an unfriendly woman, but Comtesse as told her staff to cooperate. So, we'll see."

[tactical_alert]

"They seem to be only somewhat cooperating with one another, from the stories I've been hearing. It's a wonder she runs as tight a ship as she does." He sighs with a shake of his head. "We haven't been here that long, and I'm already starting to think we may be in over our head with this strange lot."

[circleprodigy]

"I agree. There is much more going on than we thought, and it demands investigation. I'll be most interested in comparing notes with the others tonight." Inessa pats Garahel's head absently, wondering where else to look aside from the bone pit. Perhaps they should have divided things up beforehand.