Hazelnuts and plaid

[GamesMaster]

Thread CW: Character death

Time fix: 20 Menki, 1199TL

There aren't many birds underground; when a silver bird lands on Varric's head out of nowhere in the great dwarven city of Orzammar, it shocks him even before the thing dissolves into a message and a token. In a lot of ways, the token-and-message are less shocking than the bird: it signals the thing as a magical construct, sent from Astea knows where to find him.

The message is no less shocking, of course: "Come home. Situation gone to Stygia. Bring hazelnuts."

It's been a year since he left his pregnant daughter and his Clan behind to travel on this business trip. It had been with a heavy heart that he left, and he'd had the time to arrange code words with the various members of the Clan before he left. "Hazelnuts" was one such code word, possibly the worst of them all: it signified not only that Aveline wrote the message, but that Hawke doesn't know she's sending it. They had a codeword of "gold" for a message coerced by Hawke, and one of "Mabari" for "Hawke is making me write this but she also has a really good point and a legitimate need for you to come back". The reference to his daughter's favorite snack meant Hawke had no idea the message was being sent, and the lack of "candied" in front of it was even worse, as that would have meant "Hawke is fine".

He packs his things quickly, making his excuses, but it's still a few hours before he can be free of the city and on the road. In that time, another message reaches him, this one via teleportation-post:

"Need backup. Come quiet. Code plaid."

Code plaid was a message from Isabella, of all people. Their code words were a series of colors, giving her a sense of scale of how urgent the emergency is. Code plaid was, weirdly enough, nothing to do with Hawke, but dire circumstances regardless, a "get your ass home" emergency. Worse is the "come quiet"; does Isabella not know Aveline reached out to him? Or is she warning him that the message from Aveline is a trap? Circles within circles, plans within plans, and nothing going right.

[Varric]

Perversely glad it had taken him as long as it had to get free of things, Varric heads deeper into the city instead of towards the gates. With his flight spell, he could make it back to Nyra in less than three days. One and some change if he used his Keep Watch infusion to forgo sleep. Or he could pay through the nose for a teleport.

Ten minutes later, he's flying towards Nyra from the small town of Toamill. Wish I had better intel (any intel really) but getting there now seems more important (I hope). As the city walls rapidly grow in his view, he wrestles with competing ideas and plans. Tch. Alright. I need information and fast. And that means Helene (can't be sure about Aveline/Isabela, Helene is safest). Pausing five minutes flight away from the main gate, Varric takes a moment to pull out a disguise kit to take on the face of Daimer Ruomiter, traveling tinkerer looking for a long overdue vacation in the big city, just in case.

[GamesMaster]

Helene isn't home; nir basement is empty, even nir famliar missing, and the bed isn't slept in, implying ne hasn't been home in days. However, Voice itself is stirring for the evening, and there's another familiar face missing: nobody's seen the boss all day, presuming he's with Isabella. Still, it's unusual for him not to stop by and give people last minute instruction, and there's a gossip chain going about where he is. 

Most suspect it has to do with the high-profile arrest of Sage zi'Hawke last night. 

[Varric]

No, you fucking think he might be distracted by that?

Seething at the stupidity of others-- or at least that's the reason he's allowing himself to know-- Varric slips out of Voice unnoticed to head for the nearest guard station. He skips the guard post that's closer, wanting the larger, more complete files that a station will have. He doesn't bother with deception or bravado; invisible, hidden, and clever, he ghosts through the building. After hitting the duty sergeant's desk, the staff sergeant's office and the communication post, he leaves just as quietly so he can find a private spot to actually read over what he'd copied.

[GamesMaster]

Unfortunately he wasn't able to find as much as he normally would; it seems the investigation is ongoing, and some of the direction has been classified and co-opted by the Lord Hand, given it's a Light under investigation.

However, he's easily able to find the charges: Murder, one count; attempted murder, three counts. there's a note that the second and third charge could be upgraded to murder depending on if the victims survived.

Victims: Merrill zi'Hawke, Baby zi'Hawke, Baby zi'Hawke.

The suspect is in custody, in a deluxe jail cell set aside for nobles suspected of high crimes, and no bail has been set yet, nor has anyone yet attempted to bail her out. Which is odd, given how much family she has in the area. There's a note that Aveline was taken off the case for obvious reasons, and sent home on paid leave while this resolves since it seems she couldn't help but try to interfere with the case.

[Varric]

Varric's blood runs cold, then hot and back again. "This isn't possible," he murmurs. "This is bullshite. This isn't--" He shakes his head. No. This is some kind of bullshite plot. Bitch's work probably. No. 

Making an atypically snap decision, Varric beelines for the Bazaar to make a quick purchase. With the aid of some vellium based divination, it's not all that hard to locate his next attempt at getting some gods be fucked information: Isabella.

[Isabela]

Isabela isn't hard to find; she's at her house, the one she'd just purchased when Varric left. He doesn't bother knocking, just pushes the door open and follows the sounds of motion until he reaches the back bedroom, where Isabela is just coming back with a tray of broth and juice. 

And in the bed, lying still and too pale, is Zevran, clearly unconscious.

"Varric?" asks Isabela, turning to spot him. "Thank all that's holy, you got my note. I think he's been poisoned, I don't know with what. I had some of his blood tested and they couldn't identify it. I was hoping you could save him."

[Varric]

Varric's mouth snaps closed, the deluge of questions he'd been about to fling at her being cut off before they'd even had a chance to form properly. His mouth twists for a few seconds, then he growls before moving towards the bed. "Details," he snaps as he pulls his bag out and starts rummaging. "Start with failed treatments, then symptoms, context and what the fuck is going on!"

[Isabela]

"I can't get him to take charcoal but I bought a liquid treatment from the bazaar and it did nothing. He started feeling ill last night after dinner, too ill to make love. He threw up a couple times, so I figured it was a reaction to the food. We ordered fish last night, I thought maybe his was off. We each had our own fish and we shared the wine and some fruit juice. We ordered from Little Mar, the usual place, the wine was mine, the juice was his. Now he won't wake up and he's too cold to the touch, but his pulse is racing." 

[Varric]

"Liquid treatment being what, exactly? Alchemical? Potion? Which kind?"

[Isabela]

"Alchemical. Uh, he said it was called Poison-X, he gave me a list of the ingredients, I have it here. I thought you'd want it." She puts down the tray, rummaging through her satchel until she finds a scrap of parchment and hands it over. "Sorry, I don't know a lot about this kind of thing. Poisons, yes, but treating them, less so."

[Varric]

Varric glances over the paper, frowns, rereads it and mutters an oath. "That's an herbal health tonic, not an alchemical antitoxin. Might help with a minor cold or a queasy stomach but that's all," he explains tersely. But good in a way (means avenues are still possible viable). Moving deftly, he pulls out a wand and activates it. Then another and another, as he runs the detection gamut from poison to disease to curses.

[GamesMaster]

Poison; definitely poison, but he's struggling to identify what kind. His usual alchemical litmus tests come up empty; the usual cure-alls simply fail to help. It must be some very specific poison, possibly one with traces of a curse involved -- those are the nastiest kind, the hardest to detangle and resolve because the curse tends to nullify the anti-poison magics that can be used. 

[Varric]

Varric clicks his tongue, frowning. I don't have (make the time) time for this. Fine. "Do you have a stretcher? Anything broad and strong enough to hold him?"

[Isabela]

"I might be able to rig something up. Where are you taking him?"