Where's Waldon?

[justice_is_blond]

WHO: Isaac, Gareth, Nari
WHAT: An older couple is trying to find their missing son
WHEN: Current
WHERE: Wycome
NOTES: Discussion thread here

An older couple has requested help finding their son, a mage. They know he survived the Circles, they have a letter from him just after he'd escaped the White Spire slaughter, but they haven't heard from him since.

Comments

[foundmyselfagain]

Gareth accepts the watered down drink with a murmur of thanks to Isaac, sipping it without complaint.

But now they're getting down to business, and he brushes aside the additional commentary about the Gallows off to the side with a wave of his hand. No, it wasn't for them, and no, he wasn't there willingly, but neither of those have to do with the task at hand. The letter, as he reads it, draws a frown that deepens the further along Gareth gets.

He made his peace with his own family's utter desertion of him, just like many other mages had. But how could someone so intimately familiar with the situation not feel a twinge of pain?

"Huh. Plenty of kids I knew didn't get any letters from home." He glances at Kian, and can't quite recall if he was one of them. "It's just how it is. But these people you're helping, they changed their mind? Or--" He scowls again, lips pursed together. "--Did the letters just not reach him?"

He wouldn't put it past Templars. There were few things he would.

[wythersake]

Isaac leans back in his chair, and studies the thing. How terribly passive-aggressive. It's just an easier time of it, to leave all that behind.

Must have written them, to know his hand. That, or the boy went to the Circle late enough to expect it wouldn't migrate. When there's a break in the flow of questions and answers he asks:

"Wine. Is the family moneyed?"

Is there reason that another would want to draw them out, to use an absent son for leverage? Mages aren't the only ones to fake their letters. Instinct to prod at the holes in a thing, however small and irrelevant. Better they not waltz into some bizarre trap.

Wine. Montsimmard had kept stock enough, he can't think the White Spire too different — not within the heart of Val Royeaux. That he doesn't expect it was fine, Antivan vintage is... somewhat less of a lead. Whatever. That's what they've brought a Dalish for, isn't it? Tracking.

[nadasharillen]

Generally the Dalish have a better time tracking outside cities than inside, where they have little to no experience and where tracks tend to be left in interactions with people— who for some reason are not all that forthcoming with the tattooed varietal of elf— rather than in footprints and other physical marks of passage.

"Do we know what he means by 'making drinks in the basements'?" asks Nari quietly, thinking out loud, "That sounds more craftsman than merchant. If he is keen on the latter, though, he'll need either a decent amount of money or a partner, and to make several other types of contacts we might be able to nose around."