[ 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]

"I understand. We'll keep that in mind." Inessa nods sympathetically as Anders joins them, her lips twitching a little as Purrelden's antics run parallel to her mabari's. At least the butcher favors some animals, though she'll hold back on good-natured teasing about taste. Mabari are better than everything else...though Purrelden is a precious creature.

Speaking of which, Garahel quietly goes back to sniffing at the bone pit, since the cat has the butcher distracted. His mabari mind might already be plotting to sneak back later, if he can't successfully snag one now.

[justice_is_blond]

"Of course I do," Anders replies. He looks a little affronted. "She's a cat, she needs meat. ...And I'm not sneaking it from the kitchens if that's what you're asking, I brought dried stuff just for her."

This is his cat. He treats her better than, well, than himself, much of the time. "The Hero of Purrelden gets fed very well." A sigh. "And bathed often."

But she's purring and the butcher doesn't seem too angry, having set aside the large cleaver. "But she's affectionate, and I'm glad of that in a cat." Especially glad of affection that comes without slobber. Purrelden doesn't seem to mind the blood, rubbing her cheek against whatever surface is offered. She's made a new friend, she's happy.

[comtessedevelony]

"Don't let him get in too deep-" The pit is, in fact, quite deep to help with the drying. "I try and cut 'em all blunt but he might get hurt if he keeps crawl'n in like that."

Called over her shoulder as she turns on her heel and starts walking for the open smokehouse doors, muttering under her breath. "Pff. Dried meat. Don't know what's good for her do you? Come on then. We'll get her cleaned up and fed, little thing."

The actual smoking is done in the far back- locked doors of a metal cabinet, a tray of burning chips below keeping it warm, almost stifling to that side of the building. Hanging in links along chains up above are lines upon lines of sausage for which the Estate is named- on the table? Trimmings from the grinder. Here she sets down Purrelden, pointing at the wall closes to the door. "Grab a bowl from the shelf and fill it from the pump."

Shelves of bowls and racks of knives- and indeed a basin with a pump for water, rest there.

[circleprodigy]

"Garahel, mind what she says. I don't want you injured." Inessa nods slightly to Anders; she'll linger with her mabari for a bit and let Garahel's curiosity wear itself out. Then she'll join them, if the Butcher doesn't seem to mind, or take him back inside.

Garahel hears the warning and grunts in response, usually obedient but also wanting to find that perfect bone. Or, barring that, any that look particularly interesting. Inessa follows but pauses a few steps before the edge, preferring to glance around rather than risk falling in. If he won't stop, and no one's paying attention to them, she'll quietly set a barrier over Garahel. The last thing she wants is to see him hurt, even when he's being too stubborn for his own good.

[justice_is_blond]

"I know exactly what's good for her, thank you very much."

Anders is close on her heels. She's got his cat in her arms and he's suddenly nervous. He's had one taken away, he's not about to see something happen to another. Anders clicks his tongue at the cat... and for once she hops over toward him, acting like she's always obedient. Which she's not. Obviously. But he'll take it for now as he gets the bowl and starts filling it.

"You need to listen, little one. Not everyone is for climbing."

[comtessedevelony]

Plenty of long, thick bones cut up to dig through- one longer than most with a knobby joint still on one end is sticking out an an angle. Cleaned of meat and cartilage and tendon but still. A bone's a bone. It likely smells similar to the ash and meal used in the garden- as it should. This is where the bonemeal comes from.

The Butcher, meanwhile, cuts thin strips of trimmed meat and fat to handfeed the little terror. Where she's got the cat there's no blood, keeping her little paws safe from further staining. Little strips are fed bit by bit between bits of grumbling and cooing. "He's right at that. If you'd gone and climbed Loup he'da knifed you and made himself a fine little kitten pelt to go on his great ugly coat. No appreciation for animals, that man. Cook mighta made you into soup. She's a hedge witch, that one, don't mistake it. Tell'n fortunes late at night-"

[circleprodigy]

Huffing to himself, Garahel then tugs at that long, thick bone to bring it out further. Frowning, Inessa steps around the pit close to where her mabari is so diligently bringing forth that particular bone. "What did you find, Garahel? You might as well bring out the rest."

[justice_is_blond]

"They could try," Anders mutters indignantly. He warms the water before gently picking up his cat and setting her in the basin despite her claws digging into his palms.

"She's my cat, and they'd regret attempting anything." Purrelden eventually realizes she's not getting out of the water and slumps, leaving Anders free to carefully scrub the blood out of her fur. "No one hurts her or harms her in any way who will get away with it."

Overprotective? Yeah, just a little. But he doesn't have much and she means a great deal to him.

[comtessedevelony]

A long, solid bone. One joint intact, one cut off just before, probably during the butchering process. Ocher and smooth, a few healed cracks along the shaft. Probably from a hefty hog.

Inside Gabriella continues feeding the cat scraps of meat, sighing. Voice low and rolling, marked by the harsh edges of an Ander accent, she continues. "Just keep a close eye on her in the kitchens or near the hedges that line up to the woods- or the tannery. Ignatia doesn't like animals that are still living in the kitchen, and Loupe doesn't see anything as anything except a potential source for leather."

[circleprodigy]

After looking it over with a sharp gaze, Inessa stands straighter and then shakes her head. She'll keep the details in mind, but her mabari isn't taking that with him. "A large one, larger than you need. Put it back, Garahel, and if you must take something, let it be a smaller sort. Our host is generous enough."

Garahel huffs sadly, sniffing at the bone one more time before taking a last check around the area. He's determined to find something interesting, for all that the Butcher didn't like him being near it earlier. Even mabari can be contrary.

[justice_is_blond]

He can hear Inessa talking and glances back toward the doorway as he finishes getting the blood off his cat.

"I will, but I hadn't realized the hedges were dangerous. Does the tanner hunt near there? Because generally I let her run around when we're outside and I'm with her."

[comtessedevelony]

The Butcher is preoccupied- enough not to notice, or recall, a shorter, slimmer bone, both joints intact, primed for Garahel's attention.

Inside she takes care to wash her hands and wipe them down before scratching Purrelden behind the ears, voice almost oddly soft. "He sets traps under the hedges near the woods at the south edge of the garden. Rabbits run in sometimes. Foxes. Little fennecs that don't have meat on them and didn't do anything wrong- and he skins 'em. Hardly fair."

feel free to skip over her until Anders leaves the smokehouse

[circleprodigy]

As Garahel tugs it out, Inessa's eyes widen and she beckons for the mabari to hand it over quickly. She tuck it into a side pouch, gesturing for him to follow her away from the bone pit. Better not to let on that they found anything, not until Anders is available.

[justice_is_blond]

Fennec fur is supposed to be very soft and valuable, so he can see the use in that, but he's not going to argue with someone who clearly like small animals on that topic. Purrelden is doing the very opposite of arguing, too, bumping her head against the Butcher's fingers approvingly.

"It's certainly not sporting," Anders agrees. "I... had a question about something you said earlier, though. You called the Cook a hedge witch? She's a mage? Or she just tells fortunes?"

[comtessedevelony]

"Always over her cauldron, passing potions about at midnight, smoking things, telling fortunes with knuckle bones- if she were Rivaini now I wouldn't bat an eye, that's just how they are. If she were from anywhere but Tevinter-" The Butcher grumps, meaty hand not on Purrelden closing into a fist for a moment. "You can't trust Tevinter mages. Too much blood magic they do, yeah? Summoning demons and spitting on the Maker with their Black Divine."

[justice_is_blond]

He tries to not let disappointment show on his face, but Anders isn't great at hiding how he feels. Maker, how he hopes it isn't the cook. They don't need a mage behind the disappearances. They don't need mages killing, period.

"Many of them," he quietly agrees. Dorian, not so much. But most of the Tevinter mages he's heard about tend to be the unsavory sort. He'll meet with the cook after this and.... hope, as bad at it as he is.

"Have there been any issues with demons in the area?"

[comtessedevelony]

"None, thank the Maker. But some of the sillier maids keep muttering about noises in the dark when the moon's are waning. Silly superstitions. This is an old house. Buildings settle, they make noise. Girls get scared. Especially the noble ones in the Western Wing." Satisfied the cat is both clean and fed up she steps aside, pulling a clean, fluffy towel over for Anders to dry her.

"We've heard of the rifts but nothing on the Estate. Loupe's been all over, making sure. Tends to go out when it's at it's most dark- it's easier to see those tears in the sky from a distance when there's not much light. Shine like torches, he says."

[justice_is_blond]

"The noble girls in the Western Wing?" That sounds interesting, and he scoops Purrelden up to deposit her quickly in the towel and wrap her before she can make a bolt for it. Now bundled, Purrelden gets rocked like a baby as he dries her gently.

"I wasn't aware of any additional residents. Or are they students of some sort?"

[comtessedevelony]

"The Comtesse takes them in for coin, trains them up like we're some sort of Finishing School. More and more girls have been coming in since the Civil war Started. It's somewhere safe for them to learn how to be proper ladies. Our House Maids get the same treatment- taught up so they can marry well." The Butcher shrugs. "Seems to work. Means more fancy cuts and more demand for our bloody sausage, but it keeps the roof over our heads and the food in our bellies."

[justice_is_blond]

"Oh." That seems... fairly mundane? He's heard vaguely about what a finishing school is, some sort of school where they spend ridiculous amounts of time teaching you how to deal with ridiculous amounts of forks, but it strikes him as odd that he hasn't seen any non-staff women around.

"Are there currently any students?"

[comtessedevelony]

"Seven at my last count. Sometimes they head back home. Sometimes they stick it out until the Comtesse finds them a husband. They're all keeping to their wing while you lot are here, Steward's orders. Whatever's gone on? They're not involved. Don't have enough freedom to wander about save for in the garden and they can't get into trouble there." Or. Well.

She doesn't think so.

[justice_is_blond]

"As someone who was formerly a young person, they can get in trouble anywhere they'd like. I don't think they're involved, but if there's a chance to speak with them later, to get their impressions, I'd appreciate it."

For now, though, he's dried off Purrelden and she seems at peace with him again, enough to sprawl on his shoulders and give him a chance to heal the cuts she so kindly bestowed upon him. He takes a step toward the door, glancing out to look for Inessa.

[circleprodigy]

Inessa's still nearby, with Garahel. When she spots Anders glancing out, the elven woman beckons, a furtive and quick gesture, not trying to gain anyone's notice but his.

[justice_is_blond]

"Thank you for cleaning her off. I'll try to keep her from climbing you in the future," Anders says, giving the Butcher a nod before heading out to rejoin Inessa.

[circleprodigy]

Once Anders is at her side again, Inessa loses a little of that tension. "We have something to show you, but let's depart this area first. I'd rather not be observed." Garahel wags his tail as he glances back, waiting for them to hurry up.