Post #2486585 in The City of Chains, a roleplay on RPG

The walk over wasn't a terribly long one, though it was on the other side of Hightown. Given the seriousness of the atmosphere, it was unsurprising that there wasn’t a lot of talking, though at one point Liliane, who had been observing the members of the party with some curiosity, abruptly broke the silence. “Lucien? Combien de temps avez-vous fait la cour à la dame?”

Lucien’s step hitched slightly, and his visible eye twitched. Violette couldn’t help the snort of laughter at the look of guilty consternation on her old friend’s face, and shook her head. Some things never changed—and others changed a great deal indeed. “Je ne suis pas, Lili,” he replied, clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

Violette blinked. “Mais elle est celle que vous vouliez nous parler? A la noblesse?”

Lucien sighed. He’d really rather not be having this conversation right now, but he knew his friends well: they weren’t the types to rest until they had an answer. And admittedly his request had been rather strange, but he hoped it would also one day be helpful, and his father seemed to think it might. As loath as Guy Drakon was to play the games of nobility, he knew them very well. Certainly better than his son did. “Oui, mais pas pour la raison que vous pensez. Je t'expliquerai plus tard. La dame ne sait un peu de Orlesiane, vous le savez.” They fell silent after that, and Lucien put the matter aside for the moment. There were much more urgent things to be dealt with than the curiosity of his rather nosy friends, unfortunately.

Sophia kept to the front of the group, and she was glad she did so, as she was aware that the Orlesian members of the party had begun speaking about, or more specifically Lucien and her. Her knowledge of Orlesian was passable, though she was far better at reading text than understanding a fluent speaker. Even still, Liliane's question was easy enough to piece together. She turned only slightly red, and made sure to remain in the lead, largely feigning ignorance. She understood that Lucien would be uncomfortable discussing such things now of all times, especially while she was present, but she was still slightly let down by his response, which was obviously in the negative. She supposed it was her that was courting him, for the most part. The rest she wasn't able to catch as well, something about the nobility, and a bit of Orlesian. When they were through, Sophia was actually glad they hadn't had the conversation in the common tongue.

Laurent Vermire’s estate was, predictably enough, one of the more ostentatious homes in Hightown, the architecture indicating that either it had been originally built for a different Orlesian and acquired by luck or fortune for the ambassador, or else commissioned for him specifically—it was quite reminiscent of some of the more lavish buildings used by courtiers during the Season, when most everyone who could afford it made residence in Val Royeaux rather than on their respective lands. The walled courtyard was flanked by well-trimmed shrubs and several climbing vines, still in flower. He might not have noticed it were he just casually walking by—and in fact had not noticed it earlier that morning—but one of these plants, while still resting against the wall, looked somewhat disturbed, dislodged slightly from its hold on the stones of the wall.

Someone, possibly Laurent’s assailant, had used it as a climbing aid. “Rilien,” Lucien requested quietly, “Could I ask you to take a look at that, as well as perhaps the doors and windows, and tell me if the assassin was more likely to have entered or exited clandestinely or in disguise?” At the very least, someone of Rilien’s expertise should be able to get a decent idea of the sizing and weight of whomever had climbed the vines.

The rest of them were met by a city guardsman at the door, and he imagined for a moment that the poor man had never seen quite so much authority at once in his life. Between the authority he recognized and the two who just looked incredibly important, Lucien supposed that he and Aurora must be rather benign by comparison. Sophia got them through the door and to Laurent’s office, but another guard checked Lucien at the door, who willingly agreed to proceed no further, trusting that his friends would be able to find just as much, if not more information, than he could, and he instead stood in the doorway, in case they had questions of some kind.

Though she was perhaps most useful for her authority, Sophia figured another pair of eyes couldn't hurt while searching for evidence. Hers weren't the most well-trained in matters of crime; she had failed to notice the disturbed plant on their way in until Lucien pointed it out. Nevertheless, she wanted to help where she could. The Viscount's daughter gave a small smile to the hovering servant girl in the room before she moved further in. She didn't even look out of her teens yet, and a bit nervous at the sight of so many authoritative figures. Sophia doubted she'd easily speak to the future Viscoutness, no matter how easy a manner she tried to present her.

Instead she moved on to Vermire's desk. The body had been removed, thankfully, though the blood-splatters had yet to be cleaned. It did indeed seem to indicate a wound taken from behind by a sharp object, which in of itself indicated someone other than Lucien was responsible. Of late he wielded an axe when unfortunate killing needed to happen, and he had entered the room from the front, which would mean he would have had to walk around behind the ambassador to stab him with a dagger. The idea of him stealthily climbing in through the window was also a bit preposterous. She knew him to possess more than a small amount of grace, but he had no experience performing clandestine work such as this.

She began sifting through the paperwork and notes that the Ambassador had collected, being sure to replace everything where she found it. Much of it was uninteresting; schedules and invitations, bland correspondence with nobles large and small in importance. There was one group of papers, however, that appeared to be reports of some kind. They were in Orlesian, but she translated them well enough, noting several mentions of one 'Le Renard' which she believed translated to 'The Fox.' Notably, there were no words present to identify Le Renard's gender. The goal of the reports themselves seemed to be to acquire the person's location.

The most recently dated report caught Sophia's eye. The others didn't present any clear lead or location to go on, nothing but hearsay at best, but this last report seemed to speak of someone's death. The notes scrawled somewhat poorly, likely meant for one's own eyes, and the combination of that with the foreign language caused Sophia to doubt the accuracy of her translation. "Violette?" she said, calling for the nearest Orlesian speaker to her. She held out the report for the Chevalier to see. "This is a report of a separate killing, is it not?"

Violette glanced down at the parchment Sophia was holding, her brows furrowing as she scanned first the document as a whole, then the handwritten note. “Yes,” the chevalier replied, frowning. “It says that an agent Lord Vermire hired to track Le Renard was killed. His head was sent back here, and it is… unclear what happened to the rest of him.” She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. “Liliane… where have I heard ‘Le Renard’ before?”

The blond knight set the sheaf of papers she was leafing through back down on the desk, blinking light blue eyes at her sister for a moment. She’d had a posting on the coast for a few years—which meant that she certainly had not forgotten the moniker. “That is the name of… the word is privateer, I think? Closer to pirate, though. A very notorious criminal, suspected of theft, smuggling, assassination… shadow-work.” The somewhat disdainful emphasis on the last words made her opinion on the matter clear, and she shook her head. “If Lord Vermire was tracking Le Renard, ‘e was making a mistake. There would be fame in the capture, but… much risk.” She pursed her lips, eyes flickering to the blood stain on the desk. It actually wouldn’t be very different from this…

Orlesian wasn't her first language, nor even her second. In honesty, Aurora knew nearly nothing of the language aside from the similar words that it and Antivan shared. But, she could read body language, and whatever the Orlesians were speaking about it was visibly awkward for Lucien. Her head tilted in concentrated in an attempted effort to understand what was being said, but she couldn't glean anything else from the conversation. In the end, she gave up and shrugged at Rilien, momentarily forgetting that he too was Orlesian, and could understand everything that was being said.

Laurent's mansion was a sight to behold, and Aurora found herself wondering if all the buildings in Orlais were built so... Excessively. By her approximation, one of the pantries in the estate could probably hold the entire hovel Milly and her shared. Though she didn't find herself envious or wistful at the contrast, but rather content about her own living space. It was harder to get lost in her house than it'd be in Laurent's estate... However, she was a touch jealous as the sheer size of the gardens and magnificence of the plants. She was staring at one such plant when Lucien asked Rilien to check some of the vines.

Soon, they entered the estate, and after more walking than should be necessary in a house, they arrived at the door of Laurent's office. While Lucien was checked at the entrance, the remaining four were allowed entry, and Aurora stepped through the threshold before pausing to get a handle on her surroundings. The room was large, which she came to expect by now. A finely crafted desk sat not too far away, piled with papers and layered with a spatter of blood. Aurora turned her nose upward at the sight and swung her gaze elsewhere. The Chevalier sisters and Sophia made their way to the desk, and she figured she'd just crowd them if she went as well.

Instead, she found herself looking at a timid servant girl. She was young, maybe too young to be standing so close to murder scene, and Aurora flashed her an apologetic smile. The woman had a head of raven hair, and was dressed in the usual servent fare-- tan clothing, smudged apron, better suited for praticality than looks, though in what she came to expect of Orlesian dress, it was still pretty in some ways. Aurora glanced back to the three talking over the desk, and heard the word pirate thrown.

Aurora then approached the servant, if the girl had any information to share, then she was their best bet. Aurora wasn't even close to being as intimidating as the others. In fact, she was perhaps the most normal. It also helped that the girl was a good few inches taller than Aurora was. "Hello," Aurora greeted, "What's your name?"

The girl blinked, evidently a bit surprised to be approached so directly. She looked uncertain for a moment, black eyes darting about the area as though to make sure she wasn’t about to be yelled at for something, then she ducked her head demurely. When she spoke, her voice was soft, but not quite as heavily-accented as Liliane’s was. Though she was indeed clearly Orlesian, she’d learned her second tongue very well. “I’m Aurelie, miss,” she offered, her mouth twitching into a slightly-crooked smile, as though she were much more accustomed to mischief than the deference generally required of servants. She smoothed the front of her apron, though she didn’t seem to be paying much attention to the motion, suggesting that it was more habitual or nervous than consciously chosen. “Can I help miss with something?”

"Aurelie? That's a pretty name," Aurora noted. She had also twitched at being called miss, but otherwise said nothing about it. It was just odd is all, it was not often she was called by an honorific, barring Amalia's Qunari words. Still slightly craning her neck to look at the taller servant girl, Aurora smiled gently and nodded. "I'm... Sorry I have to ask this, but it's for a friend. Do you know anything about what happened to... Monsieur Vermire?" Asked, pausing for a moment to think of the word that Lucien would use. She believed she heard him use it once somewhere.

Aurelie clearly did know something, though what it was could not be discerned from body language alone. She seemed to fold in on herself a bit, her shoulders hunching forward, and her inky ringlet-curls falling over either shoulder to obscure her face slightly. From behind her fringe, she glanced around at the other people present and chewed her lip, settling at last on Aurora. With a cautious gesture, she beckoned the woman to follow her, turning a few corners until she reached what looked like an empty guest room of some kind. Aurelie held the door just long enough for Aurora to enter behind her, then closed it and leaned back against it, looking quite as though she were resisting the temptation to slide to the floor.

She sighed heavily, then looked back up at Aurora. “I’m sorry, I just… I couldn’t say this out there,” she said hurriedly, gesturing at the wall separating them from the hallway and, presumably, the other people about. “Um…” she looked back down, pursing her lips. “If I tell you what I know… will you promise not to tell the Guard? I just… I might have done something bad, but it wasn’t on purpose, I swear! If I’d known what would happen, I never would have done it. Please… I don’t want to go to the Gallows.”

An eyebrow rose over a green eye as the servant girl led Aurora away from most of the others and into another empty room, shutting the door behind them as she entered. It was all very hush-hush, and made it seem like the girl had a secret to hide. Which, in fact it sounded like she did from the way she spoke. Aurora allowed the brow to fall and nodded along with Aurelie's words. At the end, Aurora raised her hands and said, "You've nothing to fear from me." Out of everyone, she was the least likely to run to the guards. Templars they were not-- but they were close enough that it made her uncomfortable, and she'd never send anyone to the Gallows without a good reason.

Aurelie looked relieved, and perhaps the bare fact that she believed a stranger on word alone spoke to a certain uncommon guilelessness. Nodding slowly, she started in a soft voice. “Perhaps a month ago, I was working out in the gardens when I saw a stranger wandering by. He wasn’t someone I knew, but… you can tell a gentleman by the way he walks and talks, no? Like your friend.” The servant looked down at her shoes, wiggling the toes of them mostly for something to focus her attention on, and sighed. “He said his name was Sébastien, but… I suppose I don’t know if that’s the truth. He’d come by a lot after that, somehow always when I was outside. I thought maybe he was a friend of Lord Vermire, but now… perhaps not.”

She looked up, then, smiling ruefully. “He brought me flowers, you know. I thought it was silly, because I worked in the gardens. I had all the flowers I could want. But not like those ones. They were… Narcisse, he called them. I looked that up in the library. They only grow in the southern parts of Rivain, usually. I asked him if he’d ever been there, but he wouldn’t tell me.” Aurelie pursed her lips thoughtfully, then shook her head.

“He said he wanted to see me, at night.” Her face colored a little, and she ducked her head, continuing in a very small voice. “He wanted me to leave a window open in the hallway… last night. I know I shouldn’t have done it, but… he was so kind to me. I thought… I thought it would be nice. That maybe I’d be able to see Rivain one day myself, you know? He never came, though, and then this morning… I don’t know if something happened to Sébastien, or if he was responsible for what happened to Lord Vermire, but…” Aurelie blinked furiously, apparently attempting not to weep. “If he did do it, I hope you find him. He should pay for that—Lord Vermire was a good person, I think.”

It was Aurora's turn to lean against something, hers being a nearby chair. Her face wasn't that of dissappointment but rather... Pity. Aurelie was taken in by a rogue on the promise of love, and Aurora could see the temptation. She would be lying to herself if she didn't admit that in the Circle she dreamed of being swept off of her feet one day. "It wasn't your fault," Aurora stated easily, for it wasn't. This Sébastien played on this girl's dreams, and took simply took advantage of it. Usually, this ended in a heartbroken woman and not an assassination-- which no doubt made Aurelie feel all that much worse. "I'm sure he was. He was friends with Lucien after all," Aurora replied in response. While she didn't know the man personally, Lucien made a point of only allying himself with good people and if he counted Vermire as a friend then he had to be.

Aurora knew the flower Aurelie spoke about. She wasn't wrong in its origins, but the seeds were considered contraband in Kirkwall-- An experience she learned trying to get a hold of some herself. But she needed something more than illegal flowers from Rivain to go on if they were going to find him. He was their only lead, they had to find him, at least to just see what he had to say. "We'll find him," She promised, "But we're going to need your help. This Sébastien. Can you tell me anything specific about him? What did he look like? Did he have an accent? Any unique marks that could help us pick him out from a crowd?" Aurora asked.

Aurelie looked relieved, then pensive, clearly trying to decide how to frame her answer. “He is not very tall, for a man. Not too short, but… perhaps five-and-nine? His hair is blonde, but darker than the Lady Dumar’s.” Evidently, she had recognized Sophia, but then, that wasn’t all that surprising. “I think… he might be from Orlais. He speaks Orlesian like a native. Better than I do, even. But I think I heard him using Antivan once, too, so I don't know for sure. His eyes are blue, very pale. He didn’t have any scars or anything that I saw. He’s, um… he’s fairly handsome, but… mostly it was his way of speaking that made him charming. I guess he would be around thirty? I’m sorry I can’t help more… I suppose I didn’t really know much about him, in the end.”

"A swift tongue can be more dangerous than a dagger," Aurora admitted. Shrugging, she looked back up to the girl and let a comforting smile seep into her lips. "No, you helped more than enough. We at least know who to look for next," She said, finally pulling away from the chair. "And I'll be as gentle as I can to my friends, I won't tell any more than is necessary," She comforted with an easy smile. It wasn't her place to parade her mistakes around. "Shall we?" Aurora asked, pointing at the door. Retracing their steps back through the hall and back to the original room, Aurora gave Lucien a little wave as they reentered.

It was at this same point also that the window behind the desk in the study opened, the latch having come loose quite silently, and Rilien poked his head through surveying the room with no more expression than usual, though he did nod to those present, swinging in the rest of the way and landing noiselessly on the floor. "The person we seek is slightly smaller and lighter than myself,” he said by way of transition. "The vines would not have been able to support the weight of anyone particularly large or armored. Also,” he held up a tuft of what appeared to be blonde hairs, of moderate length, perhaps enough to reach from crown to shoulder. "The assassin seems to have been careless in their haste to remove themselves from the premises.” The vines were probably damaged in egress also.

"I think, however, that this window was used only for exit—there are more disturbed vines on another side of the building. If the intruder was not confident in his or her ability to pick a lock while on the side of a building, they likely would have made use of any open ones they could see. This, however, was the method of exit, from what I am able to observe.” The only thing that made sense based on that data was that the assailant had entered at night, made his or her way to the study, waited, and then killed the Ambassador from behind when next he had entered his study. It was either a shot in the dark or exquisitely timed. Perhaps, however, there had almost been an interruption, necessitating the hasty exit.

From his position in the doorway, Lucien fitted that together with what the documents seemed to indicate and what Aurora proceeded to tell them, sighing through his nose. “It’s never simple,” he said, a hint of weariness seeping through his tone. But he banished it shortly afterwards with a rueful smile and a shake of the head. “I suppose, then, that we’re looking for a career criminal, or someone hired by one. I think… we should pay a visit to our local Coterie agent. They are not known for liking others moving in on Kirkwall—perhaps they would be willing to give us some information.”

He’d really come a long way from Orlais if he was willing to consult criminals to find one, but then again… who better? He’d told Sophia once that not all the good in the world could be done at once, and he’d meant it. Sometimes, progress in the right direction set one’s feet down very strange pathways, indeed.

Snippet #2486585

located in Kirkwall, a part of The City of Chains, one of the many universes on RPG.

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