Ghost Story

[Marian Hawke]

"It's okay," promises Marian, pulling Beth close. "We'll figure it out. We'll make sure it never happens again. Okay? Just be brave ,and we'll pray, every day."

[GamesMaster]

So we all prayed, and then we went and kicked dirt over the scorch marks on the grass, and prayed some more. Please, Alydra, leave me alone. Don't let me have magic like this. I don't want it. 

[Varric]

"Damn. Easy to see where this is going." Bethie... her ghost looks younger than that (at least, I think she does) but ghosts can be malleable. Fuck, she might not even look (Emma imposing her own image of what a little sister looks like?) the way she does. She was pissed her twin brother laughed (can't blame him) but just as detailed about how much he comforted her afterwards. Glancing out the window, Varric sighs and carefully hides the diary away again. Need to let Emma know I'm heading back into (shitehole) town to help out some more. Wonder if she'd be interested in wagering (number of thanks, number of sincere thanks, number of 'sly' accusations, number of inept repairs) on the matter?

[GamesMaster]

Emma's not up for a wager, but she'd have lost anyway; the townsfolk are a mix of grateful for the aid and standoffish, their grief making them less friendly than usual. 

By lunch he finds himself at the grocer's, checking in on Rhea to make sure her kids and their pets all pulled through alright. She seems worried, the dark skin around her eyes creased, but she greets him warmly enough. 

"You're an alchemist, right? At least a hobbyist?" she asks. 

[Varric]

"More than, yes," Varric replies easily. "Taught some in Nyra, headed the Practical Brewing Guild's quality evaluation committee for six years." He studies Rhea, looking for wounds. "Anti-toxin?"

[GamesMaster]

"No, no. None of us were bit, praise Astea," she says, running a hand through her textured hair. "It's the storeroom. I think some of the regular'uns got in. Could use some poison that won't damage the goods."

[Varric]

Probably best not to mention that poisons are one of my specialties. "I could do that, yeah. Pretty simple really, though we'll need bait boxes for outdoor use or if people have pets. Actually..." He pauses a moment, running some numbers in his head rapidly. "If I made a few barrels of it, do you think others in town could use it? And be willing to use it?"

[GamesMaster]

"So long as it's nothing Forbidden," she jokes, in one of those strained tones that suggests she's not actually joking. "Yes, I think there's likely to be a lot of folks in a similar boat with their winter supplies. Thank you. You're a good man." Is that a hint of tear in her eye? If so, she breaks eye contact quickly enough to hide it. 

[Varric]

"Just chemistry," Varric says, tone quiet but casual as he tries to avoid drawing attention to her emotions. "Could help in more than one way about the winter actually. Poison I'll make will leave the meat edible; blocks up their guts, which will be ruined, but you wouldn't want to eat them anyway. Rat meat isn't the most appealing cuisine but it's protein and calories."

[GamesMaster]

"Yes, I could see that -- at the very least, the dog will eat it, if the kids won't." She takes a deep breath, lets it out slowly, pain etched on her face. "Thank you. You're very kind."

[Varric]

Said that already (please stop), he grumbles mentally in his finest curmudgeon fashion. "It's an easy brew. I can teach you how to make a weaker version of it in less than twenty minutes to be honest. Take four or five times as long to kill them without the alchemical catalysts I'll use but does the job just the same. Cheap too." 

[GamesMaster]

"Oh, I'm certainly too busy to learn, but thank you. Is there anything I can do to help you now? Ingredients you might be missing? Directions I can point you toward?"

[Varric]

"Baking soda, cornmeal and sugar of any type." Wait, sugar's pricey out here. "Or dried fruit. Just need something sweet that'll lure the rats in."

[GamesMaster]

"I have dried figs?" she offers, moving toward the shelves. 

Behind Varric, the door opens. She stills, taking a deep breath before turning to greet the man in the doorway: the paladin, Bright's John Magnel, this time without Bright Renly at his side. Rhea plasters on a smile, her hands still moving to get the baking soda down from the shelf. "Greetings once more."

"Greetings," he says, and he doesn't smile. "I am prepared to interview you next."

"Alright. Let me just finish helping this customer and I'll close up," she says, her voice quivering a little. 

[Varric]

"No hurry, I can wait," Varric says without hesitation, stepping back to lean against a wall. What's this about then?