closed | Venatori Gone Wild

[keenly]

WHO: Bastien, Colin, Leander, and Nikos
WHAT: Tracking down Venatori who got deep into Orlais at the invitation of some idiot noble
WHEN: Early Solace
WHERE: Southern Orlais
NOTES: reference.

Comments

[sarcophage]

It's a wonder Bastien doesn't jingle when he walks.

Leander doesn't bother with a plate right away, on account of he's got his nose in someone's personal property, and has somehow turned his narrow lap into a serviceable desk. A key to his very obscure identity: he knows how to wrangle paper in the woods. Spooky.

Without looking up, "I'll have mine later." The steak, not the approval. He'd meant it companionably, but whatever, it's not the first time he's failed to relate to a human being and it certainly won't be the last. Besides that, it's possible to get along with at least one Averesch simply by carrying on as though he's not being a complete dick, so this one still bears experimentation. (No luck so far; the science of moody twins shall continue.)

Still not looking up, "When did you take these?" Both of them, either of them, whoever feels like answering. "And where did you get a steak, Colin?"

[cozen]

Hopefully the steak wasn’t pulled out of anywhere too unsavory, because Bastien’s already chewing a mouthful. He points to his mouth in answer to the question—full!—but as the steak has been cooked well, and not down to a chewy mess, it only takes a couple seconds for him to solve that problem.

“The burned ones are from de Loutain,” he says once his mouth is clear, with the ambling pace and half-questioning stretches of words that signal he’s not really paid any of it much mind. “From his estate, I mean. They may not be his writing. The large one was inside a book. I think that is his.”

Thrilling notes on Orlesian history. There’s a bit of dust along the top where it was sticking out above the pages it had been tucked between.

“And the one with the seal was in Arcinaux’s entryway. Someone had dropped it behind a table. But it was sent to him, not from him, no?”

So an actual sample of his writing will depend on Nikos’ find, or else on a hike back to his estate to go hunting or back to the Gallows to review his original correspondence, and two-thirds of what Bastien has produced is likely useless. Useless for this. For building a bigger picture of the men’s lives, entanglements, dreams, problems, routines—less so.

Not that there’s any need for such a picture at the moment. Habit.

[keenly]

"Magic," Colin says mysteriously to Leander. "The last town," he adds seriously. It's not a prime cut, but it's been basted well and so it still melts in the mouth. He sits down with his own piece and cuts into it.

"So we might go back and find something that we know belongs to them," he says around a mouthful of steak, "now we know what we're looking for. But if it was Arcenaux, why'd he tip us off? It would explain how he knew so much, but why send us after them?"

[exsecutus]

Desks, would be Nikos' answer. If he felt like answering. Which, perhaps predictably, he doesn't.

He's eating steak now anyways, indelicate and disinterested in manners. It is good, wherever it comes from. He washes it down with a mouthful of wine.

"One is de Loutain's, one is Arcenaux's." The letters, that is. And beyond the invaluable handwriting, their contents will not be of any particular interest, for anyone other than Nikos, who is tuned specifically toward-- well, Caspar Perakis, really. Like fuck he'd tell anyone that.

"As to why the tip off, idle speculation will likely do little for us. Unless you want to make up answers as some fireside game." Not that he's likely to participate enthusiastically in that exercise, but still. The offer is there. With his fork, he gestures, magnanimously: be my guest. "Perhaps he was hoping we'd be killed while investigating."

[sarcophage]

Magic, Colin jokes, and Leander glances up; his little smile persists for a while after he's gone back to aligning the pages. Whether or not the information upon them will bring the party closer to the answers they seek, he finds it all interesting, and the practice useful.

"Mm, it's possible. Equally likely, he doesn't care either way and just wants us to investigate somewhere else. The same could be said for de Loutain." Sobering now, and sitting up a bit straighter, "This one's somewhat similar to the map. It's one of the Arcenaux samples. Same foundation, perhaps... same teacher? Hmmn... not an exact match, I'm afraid."