[ 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

[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."

[comtessedevelony]

"You're a mage?" A night for revelations, really. Narcisse considers that for a moment, blearily peering thorugh the light.

No, not moving. This mage is fine, this mage is keeping him safe.

Though the strange discoloration on the one side of the room IS showing some cracks around it, similar to the door outside. "I don't SEE it I just- hear it!"

[justice_is_blond]

"I wear robes and carry a staff." How drunk is Narcisse all the time? That's a question for some other day when the ice isn't cracking, though.

"Take a couple of steps backward," Anders says quietly. "Back the way we came. There's someone coming in." He casts another glyph, this one directed a the spot on the wall that's showing cracks.

[comtessedevelony]

"I thought it some Fereldan twist of fashion! A sense of humor! A walking stick!" He huddles behind Anders, yelping at the sudden brush of a nose to the back of his knee-

"There is a DOG behind us-" And the sudden grating of stone. The light he'd left above? Goes dark. "And we have been shut in!"

At this rate? He might faint.

[justice_is_blond]

Shut in. It sends a sense of panic through him as he grabs his staff, grip going tight. It's all walls and it's dark and he doesn't know the way out. The only thing that's lacking are the cold weight of metal around his wrists. Everything starts going small and narrow as his breathing speeds up, despite how he tries to fight the rising fear.

"I, we need to, we need..." Think. He needs to think. It's not Templars. He's not back in a cell. They need light and that, at least, he can do, tossing up a wisp and letting it provide a little illumination.

"Out. How do you... it unlocks from this side? In case? Please." His hands feel shaky and his heart is pounding in his chest. All Anders wants to do is crouch down but he can't. He can't.

[comtessedevelony]

"We aren't supposed to be down here when it locks-" He thuds his forehead against Anders' back, taking slow, even breaths. Ok. What's in the room- He reaches out to the side, trembling hands finding a sconce, a lamp. A strike of flint gives more light than just the wisp and that helps. A little.

"But- there. See? That must lead somewhere." The cracks, that wall that looks like it should be a door. "Maybe the same key works?"

[justice_is_blond]

The thud against his back, coupled with a bump of a canine nose against his thigh, nearly have him tilting over, but Anders holds on. One step at a time. They're trapped, but it doesn't have to be permanent, or long term or anything like that.

He takes a shaky breath as light fills the area and holds out a hand, undoing the paralysis glyphs on the floor.

"Maybe." There's no certainty to his voice, only the desperate sound of a man struggling to keep moving forward. The dog sniffles, bumping against his leg again, and Anders finds he doesn't mind. "Maybe. You should try it. I've... I've got your back." As much as he can, when he's terrified of the walls closing in around him and being stuck down here.

[comtessedevelony]

"It's not air tight. They'll come looking for us in the morning- your friend will come looking for us when we're not right back with the key." He should, right? Right. Still.

Narcisse squares his shoulders and shuffles forward, weaving with his usual bizarre grace to the door. He feels around for the same edge and- "There's a hole here for a key!"

Ah ha! "it should work. It will work."

[justice_is_blond]

There's a hole. And even if the key doesn't work, he's not untrained. He needs to get a hold on himself and function. Anders takes another breath.

"Does it work? The key? I can, I can pick locks, if it doesn't. I can do that."

He's not helpless this time. He's not alone. He can function, and the shadows aren't Templars stealing up to hurt him, or demons waiting for a weak spot. ...Okay, there are always demons waiting for weakness, but they're not expressly waiting here for this.

A third steadying breath and he's leaning against the wall and starting to get a handle on himself.

[comtessedevelony]

"It fits! It may yet turn-" He twists and there's a crackle, a shudder- Narcisse' shoulders slump somewhat in relief as the stone begins to move out of the way inch by inch. Older, unused. "Oh thank the Maker- we should be able to get through shortly."

[justice_is_blond]

For one of very, very few times in his life, Anders echoes someone as they thank the Maker. He doesn't think the Maker had anything to do with it, but he's grateful nonetheless.

Still trembling a little, Anders pushes up from the wall, rubs the dog's head, and casts force magic in a wedge to start scooting it open more quickly. He needs out. He needs out badly.

"Soon," he says, and it's close to a prayer.

[comtessedevelony]

Wider and wider still- till oh.

Oh no.

"...Not this way-" Narcisse starts scrambling backward, bumping into one of the casks, knocking a shelf of the 'special' wine hard enough that a bottle goes spinning- crashing onto the ground at their feet.

The contents are not, in fact, wine. Though they are a congealed mess of red that smell strongly of iron and copper. Beyond a room with a drain. A hook. Another door.

[justice_is_blond]

Fuck.

Anders casts as the scent hits them, throwing a barrier over himself and Narcisse both, before it sinks in that the blood is spilling from a cask. His gaze goes up to the scrambling man from the contents now splattered on the ground, and he wonders if all of his judgement was off. If Narcisse is the lure, or, or, he doesn't know.

What he knows is that he's still scared, they're still trapped except for the door Narcisse doesn't want to go through, and he needs out and an answer.

"Get up. We're going through there. Or you start talking, now. Or both. I like you. I don't want to think you're caught up in what I'm seeing. But I need answers, and I need them now, Narcisse."

[comtessedevelony]

"I don't know. I don't know, I don't know, I just mind the wines there isn't supposed to be blood here-" Trembling all over, stammering as he stands and tries to make for the stairs. "I'm not going down there, I don't want to see it, not again, not ever again-"

[justice_is_blond]

His fear and his anger are not blending together well. He's not being rational and he's not being calm. Narcisse is running for a closed door that he can't even open from this side, in panic, and Anders has to decide that the butler did not, in fact, do it.

"Then stay there." His voice is less cold. "I'm going through. There's not an option. Milady, come with me, Narcisse, the barrier will hold for several minutes if you're sure you want to be left behind."

People have died here. It's obvious, and now it's time for Anders to walk through a killing ground. It won't be the first.

Renewing his own barrier, Anders goes to lean against the new door and see what he can hear on the other side.

[comtessedevelony]

"Please don't-" He makes no move to stop Anders, huddled on one of the stairs. "Nothing good is to be found there, please. Wait here, your friend will come and we will all laugh and it will have been a mistake-"

Not deliberate, not an attempt to trap him down here with a mage, a dangerous mage, not an attempt on both of their lives. "Please, Ser."

Anders does not listen and Narcisse? Gives to quiet, terrified weeping where he is. Beyond the door there is a sound of a vaguely rattling chain and liquid dripping- the slow glide of metal on flesh, wet and slick and wrong.

[justice_is_blond]

"I can't. I'm sorry." He can't stay down here in the dark because of his past, he can't stay put instead of helping because of his past; Anders is all wounds and they all drive him forward, sorry Ignatia. And sorry Narcisse, as well. If he'd any skill in entropy he'd make it easier on the man, but then again, anyone left asleep could be in danger.

The noise is sickening, now that he can hear it. And it means he needs to get through the door. Anders casts ice again, wedging it in, prying the doorway open as quickly as he can. Once possible, he's going in magic blazing, because there's nothing else he can do. Too many ghosts from his past are down here and being entirely calm and measured is beyond him.

[comtessedevelony]

the door is old, locked, and barred- but the more it wedges open the greater the smell of blood, the sound of skin being stripped from flesh. Of course something like a wall crackling open when it ought not does attract attention and the moment he is through- the hulking figure in a Bear's mask makes a gesture with a gloved fist-

Light fills the room, will focused and shaped to a fine point as Bear Mask calls down a Holy Smite upon the mage.

Once the light fades there's a body on the hook- fat and half stripped of flesh- a wide table with several more stripped of their skin and awaiting a cleaver. Below the dripping carcass is a tub with a tube that connects to bottles that look much like wine- like the special vintages Narcisse shattered in the room beyond.

"Told you we should've done the mages the first night-" Bear growls, hauling the cleaver from the side table while Hawk continues calmly stripping skin from the carcass.

[justice_is_blond]

Fuck Templars.

It's the first thought in his mind once he can think again, familiar pain searing through all his joints, not helped by the wall he'd been flung into. For what might be the very first time, Anders misses being possessed because he could have continued anyway and torn apart these two. Instead everything is pain... but there's something nice about the familiarity. It means he can work with it, unlike the first dozen or so times he's been smited, and he can grab for his crystal.

"Velanna, dungeons, help. Templar, templars, shit." The last word comes as the Seeker's dog joins the fray, leaping over Anders and flanking the Bear. Anders is glad of the added protection, but he can't help fight yet. It's the dog versus someone with a cleaver and Anders is still trying to get upright and back to his feet.

"Narcisse, please!" What the Butler can do Anders doesn't know, but Anders really doesn't want to die here. He's still holding the crystal, though, which means Velanna should wind up hearing anything that goes on. If she's listening. Maker, please let her be listening.

[comtessedevelony]

"NON!" Hitched around a sob and for a moment there is only a low, whimpered string of apologies that culminates in a final, resounding 'fuck it' before a bottle comes hurtling through the darkness and shatters over the head of the Bear.

Between the blood soaked cloak, the glass, and the solid blow to the head- Milady's flanking has Bear staggering in place, cleaver swinging wide of the hound but catching Anders' ribs in a sharp slice.

"SER ANDERS!" Another volley- bottle after bottle thrown- if it weren't already a bloody mess in the room, it is now. "Je ne te laisserai faire cela plus, je ne peux pas le supporter, pourquoi devez-vous être un monstre?"

[justice_is_blond]

Someone is listening, at least, and Anders hadn't expected it to be Narcisse. He's not sure he'll ever be able to express how grateful he is for the butler's response when he winds up merely cut by the cleaver and not incapacitated. Anders finds his feet, finally, arm pressed to his side as he tries to breathe shallowly, to ignore what he can of the increasing-by-the-moment pain. He can't do anything about that just yet. Smites are pains in the ass. But he can yank his dagger out of his boot and slash at the Bear's throat, flanking Bear on the opposite side of Milady as the dog goes for another bite.

"Thank you," he groans. It had been meant to be a yell, but he can't manage it. Hopefully Narcisse hears him as well as the dog. Later Anders will make sure, if there's a later. For now the mage needs to pull it together and fight. And kill, again, but at least this is no innocent.

[comtessedevelony]

Teeth and dagger and the cloak catches. Drags. Something of a gorget under thick wool spares the throat as the cloak and robe tear. Milady twists and out stumbles the broad, meaty figure of the Butcher, clad in dark mail and a bear's mask- behind the Hawk finishes skinning the last bit of flesh from the corpse on a hook and sets the skin carefully aside before taking one of the four knives resting on the table and diving in, slashing at both man and hound.

Narcisse remains in the room beyond, hurtling bottles, swearing violently in Orlesian.

[failedfirst]

Velanna is outdoors, walking the grounds. This is deliberate, she's been using earth magic for most of the evening, probing the ground under the estate, looking for spots where the rock is missing or root cellars. It's inexact, and to the outside observer it just looks like any other elf enjoying a night walk. But when Anders calls, she's only been able to find one place that's dirt, but it'll get her closer to where Anders is than running there will. She disappears from where she stands in a shower of roots and dirt, and she tunnels through the earth, dragged in a cocoon of roots, erupting in the wine cellar.

She sees Narcisse first, and without waiting for him to adjust to her presence she growls

"Move," pushing past him, glad she'd made the right call on location. She starts throwing fireballs as soon as she has a visual on Anders and his attackers, hopefully not giving them time to react to her presence.