[ 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

[tactical_alert]

"That is hardly polite." Ohhhh boys you dun got caaaaaught. The hallways are dark, the new moon keeping any moonlight from windows, and in the gloom and the quiet, well, neither Anders nor Narcisse could have seen the hidden, lurking figure of the Seeker keeping watch over Valery's door. His voice is quiet, whisper-cold.

[justice_is_blond]

"I am a mage, Seeker. You can hardly expect those of us half-raised by the Circles to know how to behave politely. We just don't get that practice." He's just as quiet... but his voice is amused. He'd mentioned there was a secret cellar they were getting the key to, and isn't entirely concerned to be caught. If anything, it's a comfort. Narcisse knows someone else knows where Anders is and who he's with; it's a safety net.

[comtessedevelony]

"Merde-" Narcisse winces, peering back out to Malcolm. "I was just taking Ser Anders down to the winecellar to where we keep the special casks of wine. A private tasting, yes? There is no harm in that."

He does, however, look sheepish.

[tactical_alert]

And Anders knew that Malcolm would, in fact, be here, right here, on this night, specifically to see who was taking a very particular key. So really, the show is for Narcisse. "Then the Enchanters and Templars were hardly doing their duties, hm?" Teaching mages how to act in polite society is definitely something that should be in their base education, goodness.

"The middle of the night? You could not simply ask for the key to borrow during the day? Ah, I suppose they are afraid you might drink it all." He's noticed Narcisse has the entire ring of keys. And he'd locked the door. If they are to be out all or most of the evening, then perhaps the key thief will be thwarted. There should be thirteen still there; he's only been sitting before this room since Valery retired to bed, unless someone's come in through a window or secret passage directly into her room.

Unless it's all a lie and Narcisse is going to use The Key and lead Anders to The Door.

[justice_is_blond]

He could make a comment on what duties the Templars of Kinloch Hold were fixated on... but now is not the time for bringing up old hurts. Narcisse is clearly reacting as they would hope.

"I expect the butler of such an estate has a great deal to attend to until the middle of the night. He's been responsible all day, as have I, and now it's time to relax a little."

There won't be any relaxing until he and his kitten are safe and sound in the Kestral House again.

"This is all right, right, Narcisse? There won't be trouble for this?"

[comtessedevelony]

"A glass or two of wine never killed anyone-" For the first time since their arrival, (at least since his drunken accusation of Loupe), Narcisse wilts, humor dimming. He drinks. He knows he drinks too much but-

It helps him sleep. It helps him get through the day.

"No trouble whatsoever. Honored guests, such as yourselves, are often offered the special wine. We were a little ill prepared upon your arrival and did not bring them up. Now I shall."

[tactical_alert]

"Is that what we call responsible in Orlais?" Who's a bad cop? Malcolm is the bad cop. He motions in the dim to the key ring. "Take your wine cellar key and return it where it goes when you've finished. In the future...try not breaking into a lady's sleeping quarters. One of these days she may wake and mistake you for a werewolf."

[justice_is_blond]

It's very hard to keep from snorting at the werewolf line, but Anders manages. Barely.

"We'll be back, Seeker." He even manages to sound mostly disinterested. Maybe one day he'll actually get the hang of this whole acting thing. "After a little enjoyable wine, with the key, and so on."

Anders reaches over and rests a hand on Narcisse's shoulder. "It's all right. I'm a Warden, he can't really get at me. And we're honored guests so I can cover for you." It's rather nice to be the good cop, he has to say.

[comtessedevelony]

"I don't have designs on her virtue-" As if that's the hill to die on here. Narcisse sighs and fiddles with the key ring, pulling off one before handing the rest to Malcolm. The Iron Key remains, as Narcisse has palmed one of the slimmer, silver variants. "You'd best hold onto these, then. I don't think I can slip in a second time so quickly."

[tactical_alert]

A good tip on acting is for it to not be entirely fake. Malcolm takes the ring of keys, pockets it. Less jingling and jangling should he need to get the drop on someone than to hook it on his belt.

"Don't get too carried away. We are all still to be respectable persons come the morning."

[justice_is_blond]

Damn. From previous conversation, Anders is pretty sure that's not the key they wanted to follow. On the other hand, it means that Narcisse is even more unlikely a suspect and Anders is a little glad of that. Just because the man is a mess doesn't mean he's a criminal.

Anders meets Malcolm's gaze and gives a small nod. "I think we can manage to be respectable. I've faith in Narcisse." And with that, he's turning to the butler and giving a nod.

"Lead on. Let's have a pleasant end to the evening, shall we?"

FOR ANDERS

[comtessedevelony]

"But of course. A glass or two, nothing more." Maybe a bottle for himself, but- he manages one of his flourished bows before motioning for Anders to follow. He does head in the direction of the study- and just past, unlocking the wine cellar door with his own key. Down, down, and the smell of lye is...less this evening, to everyone's delight.

"You can almost smell the wood as you ought- how the maids are unable to find the source of the smell? I Do not know." But down the stairs they go to a room full of small casks of ale, wine, and cider- and row upon row of bottled wine. Just past the farmost shelf there is an odd space inthe stone, one Narcisse raps with his knuckles. "It is terribly secret, I know- but if you slide this key here-"

He does so, and there is a scrape of stone as it moves aside to reveal a door. "Marvelous, isn't it?"

[tactical_alert]

When the two slip into the darkness, they don't get too far--out of earshot, to be sure--before Malcolm motions for Milady to also come out of hiding. Gives her her orders: follow, protect. She'll get plenty of treats and care when all is said and done, but he's not sending Anders down completely alone. Quietly, she follows them down.

[justice_is_blond]

"The maids can't figure out where the lye scent comes from?" It's an echo of what Narcisse is saying, but he wants to be sure he's hearing what he thinks he is. That, and he wants to keep talking. He knows Milady is coming along, or supposed to be, and he doesn't have the greatest amount of faith in dogs being subtle. If he can cover for her, so much the better.

The door is indeed impressive, Anders looking at the way it blends in and already considering that there are probably other doors like this. If the maids can't find the scent, it's probably behind something hidden.

"Very. Do you know who made it? Because that's impressive work. I would have known something was off, but not what or how to get in."

[comtessedevelony]

"There is no reason for it- some say it might be in the mortar for the stone but...concrete mixtures use lime, not lye." How he knows that, well. Skipping over it. "This was here when the Estate was built- some sort of hiding place or another, a smuggler's den, there are many stories and...not a one of us knows the truth."

There is a moment where he considers the strangeness of this before shrugging and trotting along, leaving the door wide open behind him. Down narrow stairs till they end at a wide, dark room that takes a bit of clicking from his flint and steel before a warm, cheerful lantern is lit. Casks, yes, bottles, yes, and nothing odd in here.

[justice_is_blond]

He wonders if someone might actually know the truth, like the valet. On reflection, he realizes someone has to know if the scent comes and goes. That's the only way that can happen. It's another thing to mention later, and the list seems to get longer by the day.

At least the little room seems cheerful enough, and Anders takes a look around.

"It seems a decent space for working in."

[comtessedevelony]

"Storing. We don't do any work down here- too cold to stay for too long." There's a similar discoloration to the stone on the other side of the wall- and a vague, distant shuffling somewhere. Narcisse stops to frown, staring beyond one of the smaller casks. "What in the Maker's name- If we have rats down here..."

That'd be awful. Unthinkable-

Also really gross, so Narcisse ducks behind Anders, lamp outheld. "You deal with them."

[justice_is_blond]

"...You're hiding behind the mage." It's delivered in his most 'are you kidding me' voice, but at least he's no stranger to things moving about in dark places. He's a Warden. Anders casts, tossing paralysis glyphs on the ground. After a moment's thought, he's casting a thin sheet of ice along the walls, too, so that any cracks or moving parts will show right away.

"What are we going for here? Point it out, I'll grab it, or you can grab it while I protect you from the rats."

FOR MALCOLM

[comtessedevelony]

Half an hour- perhaps more- after the butler and Anders away with the silver Key- a figure, hooded, cloaked, and formless slinks down the hall to stop before Valery's room.

[tactical_alert]

He says nothing, barely even breathes, watching from his shadowed spot as before. He still has the keys, and the door was locked by the butler before--now that there's a change in this regular schedule, he waits and observes, first.

[comtessedevelony]

They try the door- and nothing. The knob turns until the latch catches and the set of their shoulders goes tight- this isn't how it is supposed to go. Their shadowed hood swings down the hallway in either direction, as though the answer would be there.

[tactical_alert]

He's just every so slightly starting to regret sending Milady off. Inessa had wanted to be his backup, but she's got her own mission of import.

Time for dramatic shadowy entrance #2 electric boogaloo: "Looking for something?"

[comtessedevelony]

No word, no warning- just a slide of wood on leather and a wide sudden swing- the figure twists and lashes out at Malcolm, something glinting in the dark goes spiraling off in an arc- the head of a hatchet. It buries itself in Valery's door with a wooden thud but oh, the haft still swings for Malcolm.

[tactical_alert]

What kind of weapon is a hatchet to bring around?! He's not stupid enough to be completely unarmed--though now he's kind of wishing he'd brought his sword.

He's certainly glad that head missed him, though the wooden handle, despite being far less deadly thanks, is still hefty. He brings up an arm to block, and damn it stings.

With the other arm, he reaches to pull his dagger. Pushes ahead through the pain to try and close the gap. He's got to get that damned hood off somehow.

[comtessedevelony]

For the first time since their arrival, the Orlesian Masks make an appearance. Dark and carved ornately in the semblance of a hawk, when the hood falls free the mask glints faintly. The figure lunges, a beak thrusting at Malcolm from the darkness as the figure attempts to headbutt Mal and misses, grazing Malcolm's temple-

But under the cloak a hand skitters in quick, jostling Mal's ribs, a hand grasps the outside of his pocket and finds The Keys. There's a triumphant grunt- but they cannot pull them away.