In Vino Veritas

Posted on 19 Dec 2021 @ 7:30am by Mage Kalian Winter & Warrior Martin Josceran & Warrior Rhiannon Cadash & Rogue Elinowy Ursulas

2,658 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Summerday La Fête
Location: Jader
Timeline: Cloudreach 25th

OOC: Continued from post 'Cui Bono'

The Chantry grounds were full of people moving around in groups and in pairs, wearing their brightly colored best clothes, wandering among festival stalls that sprawled down the streets. Kalian said, "There are so many people. Like Martin said, we can't go around saying there are poison drinks, we will cause a panic. But we also can't go around saying there are elves selling poisoned wine - that could result in an alienage massacre." His elven mother had told him stories. "We can show the bottle around, tell folks we want to buy more of it. That way if we find someone that bought some, we get it out of the hands of potential victims. Plus, once word gets around, the sellers might come to us."

Rhi listened to Kalian as he laid out his thoughts. "I agree. Asking around to see if we can by more, should bring those selling it to us." She looks to Martin. "Unless you your have another idea, that might work?"

That wasn't the worst idea Martin had ever heard. He certainly couldn't come up with anything better.

"Sounds reasonable to me," he said. "Let's do it."

Martin had the bottle in hand, but Kalian was pretty sure he could describe it. Keeping Rhiannon and Martin in sight, he approached a small group of humans, two women and a man drinking from wine bottles, but not the ones he was looking for. "Good day to you," he said, with all of his well-practiced charm, "I'm looking for a couple of elves selling wine. The label on the bottles show a woman with long hair designed to look like a river of wine, and the bottles are ceramic. The wine is overpriced," he added to discourage them from buying any. "But I'd like to buy more anyway."

"I'll share the rest of this bottle with you," said one of the women, eying Kalian with a lascivious grin, inspiring a round of hearty laughter from her companions. The man said, "We haven't seen anyone selling wine like that, but we have plenty. You're welcome to join us for a foursome."

Kalian barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. He'd forgotten what festival revelers were like sometimes, and after all, he had plans with Rhiannon to look forward to. "No, thank you, serah. But if you see someone with a bottle like I described, I'd appreciate it if you would send them my way." As the three walked away, Kalian wondered if Rhiannon and Martin were having any luck as he angled to intercept another group.

Martin looked around, just in case he saw someone puking their guts out. Not that this would be an uncommon sight on a festival day, but maybe less common at such an early hour in the afternoon. No such luck though, at least not in his direct vicinity.

"Excuse me," he said to an elven woman, who had long blond hair and was wearing a bright shawl around her shoulders. "I'm looking for two elves selling wine like this," he pointed at the bottle. "Have you seen them ?"

Her eyes drifted to his uniform and he saw the flash of distrust there, not unusual in elves. They had cause to be wary, unfortunately.

"No, I haven't," she said after a second.

"Oh," he said, making a disappointed face. "That's too bad, I was hoping to buy a few bottles for a party later. But thanks anyway."

He moved on to the next person, a burly human with a paunch and ruddy cheeks suggesting he regularly indulged in libations.

"Beg your pardon, I'm looking for wine, same as this ?" he held the bottle. "Two elves are selling it but I can't find them again, and I wanted to buy more."

"Baah," the man snorted, "you truly must be desperate if you resort to buying wine from bloody knife-ears ! My mother-in-law sells fine wine, she has a stall over there, you'll find everything you need there !"

"Thanks," Martin said frostily. At least he knew where not to buy his wine.

After interrogating what felt like half the population of Jader, he finally struck gold. There was a woman on the edge of the crowd, bent over ; as Martin approached she proceeded to noisily discharge the contents of her stomach (mostly liquid) on the ground.

"Littering waste in a public location, especially during festival, is a finable offense," Martin said amiably. It was even true, although the sort of law nobody cared about. It was a convenient excuse to lock up people too drunk to stand though.

The woman glanced at him, her face pale and sweaty, and made a rude gesture at him.

Kalian's inquiries had resulted in two more salacious invitations, four recommendations for alternative drink, and one threat from a jealous husband who assumed he had untoward intentions. But, no one who knew anything about the suspicious wine. Kalian had begun to wonder if it was indeed the wine that had caused that man Arnould's demise. He saw Martin bestowing his guardsman charm on a sick woman, and rejoined him.

Rhiannon watched those women who made salacious invitations carefully but the man who threatened Kalian got a crimson eyed death stare. She watched the man closely as both Kalian and herself made there way along.

"Good day, serah," said Kalian. "Apologies for disturbing you while you're sick. By chance, did you drink wine that came from a bottle like the one my guardsman friend is holding?" If so, he figured expelling it from her stomach was the healthiest thing she could be doing just then.

With one more heave, the last of the contents of the woman's stomach were expelled and she stood up. She wiped her mouth with her handkerchief, still pale and a little bit shaky. Her brown hair was tied in a very long braid and she wore modest, practical clothes in tones of hay and beige. An artisan perhaps, or a farmer. Martin glanced at the handkerchief. White stains, just like the foam on Arnould's mouth.

"Bottle's here." She kicked at it on the ground and the bottle toppled over, fortunately it was sealed shut. "You're welcome to it, I only had a cup or two, watered down even, and that shit made me feel like the worst hangover of my life. Damn. Guardsman ?" She looked at Martin, taking in his uniform. "I want to put in a formal complaint against the bastard who sold me that swill. I want my money back."

"Right. Of course. Hum. First however, what is your name ?"

"Emilie Gerfaut. I own L'Oliverie."

Martin nodded, familiar with the name. It was a small but fancy shop that sold mostly perfumed soaps, candles and a few beauty products.

"And can you describe the person who sold you the wine ?"

"Sure can. Two elves. One had long braided hair, brown, dressed in blue. The other was blond, short hair, brown eyes, with a grey tunic. Damn, I bet they're running an illegal distillery business or something of the kind. I thought it was safe because the bottle looked fancy, but..." she shook her head, clearly shaken by the whole experience.

"Any idea where they went ?"

"Not really. They're probably still selling their poison, or back at the alienage I imagine." Emilie shook her head with a disgusted expression. "I won't get my money back, will I ?"

Rhi made her way, with Kalian over to a woman who was throwing up. She listened as Kalian asked about her possibly being sick from wine. As the woman finished, straightened up, wiped her mouth and proceeded to explain what had happened to her, Rhi picked up the bottle that the woman had kicked. Looking at over, she pulled the stopper and took a sniff.

This woman, Emilie Gerfaut, owned the L'Oliverie. If she made the perfumes herself, she probably had a highly developed sense of smell, thought Kalian as he watched Rhi sniff the wine. Kalian was tempted to try to smell the wine himself, even though he didn't know anything about poison. Just now all he could smell was the sour stink of vomit.

Kalian rested a hand on the woman's shoulder, a consoling gesture, and surreptitiously sent a gentle healing spell into her body. "I doubt you'll get your money back, serah, but thank the Maker you expelled the drink from your stomach."

"I do feel much better." She pointedly glared at Kalian's hand and stepped away from him. "I should have known better than to buy anything from elves."

Emilie turned away just as they all heard Elinowy's distinctively beautiful singing voice, from the direction of the privies.

Rhi stoppered the bottle and looked to Martin and Kalian. "I do not smell anything, which is as I suspected. Any good poisoner would not use something that could be smelled by those he or she wished to poison. Especially if it was to be drank. If there was a smell then it might not have gotten drunk."

"Right," Martin agreed. "But that doesn't prove the wine is poisoned. It could just be really bad moonshine. Illegal, and dangerous, but accidental rather than malicious. And I honestly can't imagine what the point of selling poisoned wine would be."

Unless that was a ploy thought up by a sick mind. It wouldn't be the first time such things happened. While many outlaws were motivated by desperation or greed, some were just plain malevolent. Still, selling poisoned wine seemed oddly random ; usually murderers targeted specific people. Martin thought for a moment.

"Do you know of any way of proving for sure whether the wine is poisoned ?" he asked Rhiannon. He didn't ask Kalian ; to the best of his knowledge there were no such spells.

Rhiannon shook her head slightly. "I do not have a way to check with me. I could send for what I need if you would like. Or I could give it a quick taste and see what happens."

"Maker above, no !" Martin exclaimed, startled and slightly alarmed that she would suggest such a thing. It seemed an extremely cavalier and glib way to treat one's own life. "Send for whatever you need, or give me a list and I'll see if it can be found quickly, but no one is drinking that wine."

"No!" blurted Kalian, at the same time as Martin's emphatic no. He was relieved but not surprised by Martin's reaction. No way would he let Rhiannon or anyone take a chance like that. "There's a potion master staying at the Raven – Dominic Lesprin – probably has the right materials. He has a stall here… somewhere."

---

Jerard staggered back toward the privies, taking small sips from the flask that pretty dwarf had given him. Best spirits he could remember drinking, smooth and rich, burned all the way down in the best possible way to his stomach. He waved when he saw that nice guardswoman, talking to another guard. What was her name? Jerard called out, "Guardswoman Audrey?" He said, "Martin sent me back to find you." Then he saw a big body-shaped bundle on the ground.

Maker's Breath! Audrey had almost convinced Johann to help her carry the body back to the Guard Station without asking too many questions, before the miller - Jerard - interrupted their conversation and mentioned Martin.

Jerard sucked the last drops from the flask, then noticed the large body-shaped bundle on the ground, wrapped in what appeared to be a flowered tablecloth. "Is that… is that Arnould?" He broke down and began to cry.

As her long crimson robes billowed behind her, Sister Elinowy was caught up in thoughts of her odd encounter with Elder Isouda. Each woman was blessed for dedicating her life to the will of the Maker. Still their were some that either out of personality quirks or course ambition were difficult to deal with and keep a joyful heart. Isouda seemed to gather dark clouds about her when she entered a chamber. Elinowy was saying a prayer for the elder when the sounds of weeping reached her ears. Praise the Maker, comforting the Poor in spirit would be just the thing she needed to shake off her negative thoughts of a Chantry sister.

She put a practiced kindly smile on her face and approached the man, her arms open in embrace. "My dear brother, what distresses you so?" she asked, her eyes quickly taking in the scene. The Guards and the covered body made this case fairly obvious.

"Oh Sister," groaned Jerard. He wiped his face with his sleeve. "My, uh, companion died suddenly. I showed that guardsman – Martin – where Arnould threw the bottle he was drinking from. And now he and his two friends, a Rivaini–looking man and a dwarf, are investigating."

Elinowy held the man as he sobbed. "I am sorry to hear of the loss of your friend. Our Maker is no stranger to the distress of the suffering of those he loves. In our loss we share in the suffering of Andraste, and through our compassion assure ourselves of coming to the Maker."

She tapped on Jerard's shoulders, opened her mouth and began to sing.

"My Maker, know my heart:
Take from me a life of sorrow.
Lift me from a world of pain.
Judge me worthy of Your endless pride.

My Creator, judge me whole:
Find me well within Your grace.
Touch me with fire that I be cleansed.
Tell me I have sung to Your approval.

O Maker, hear my cry:
Seat me by Your side in death.
Make me one within Your glory.
And let the world once more see Your favor.

For You are the fire at the heart of the world,
And comfort is only Yours to give. "

Johann and Audrey were just preparing to pick up the body, but Johann paused and looked hard at Audrey. "What is Martin up to now?" he asked rhetorically, but picked up the body nonetheless. They couldn't leave it here in the middle of the festival.

Elinowy was mid-song when they got there. Kalian thought poor Jerard looked… better. Less like a man in shock. Elinowy's singing had that effect on people, and despite the disturbing turn of the festival, Kalian smiled.

Rhi listened as Elinowy sang. Not only was she beautiful, her voice was as well. She glanced towards Jerard and gave a nod. "Flask do you good?"

"Y-yes," Jerard said. He still looked shaken and pale, but a bit steadier. "Thank you." He glanced at the body, who mercifully had been covered, then looked away.

Johann and Audrey had been on their way out but stopped when they spotted Martin. Or rather, Johann stopped and Audrey had no choice but to do the same. He looked like he wanted to ask more than a few questions ; his eyes went from Martin to Kalian and Rhiannon, narrowing as he noticed the empty wine bottle Martin still held.

"What exactly is going on here ?"

That was all Martin could do not to wince. There went his resolve to keep his head down and not get noticed. "I'll report all of my findings in due course," he said, holding Johann's eyes. "Completely and thoroughly."

Johann hesitated, clearly tempted to drop the body he was carrying and demand answers, here and now. But the longer they dallied, the more likely it was someone would notice a corpse being carried in the middle of Summerday festivities, and that in turn would cause a right mess. Besides, he wouldn't want to air the Guard's disagreements or lack of cohesion in public, or at least Martin was counting on that.

"I'll make a preliminary report to the Captain," was all Johann said in the end.

"Thanks", Martin said, though what he really thought was much less appreciative.

This whole thing was looking more and more like a disaster.

-----

 

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