Lysette gave Dalion a cold look.

"Thank you, but no thank you," she replied. "I do not spit. Such a thing . . . " her voice trails off, as if she has no words for how low such a thing might be.

"I have instead, an Arturo Fuentes cigar, just a small one. I love the flavor. And the smoke? I think it will do the trick. ¿No es así? Unless anyone objects?"

She looks around and if no one says no, she will light the small cigar with a butane lighter and blow out a plume of grey smoke into the dark space at the bottom of the stairs.

"It's perhaps not wise to light a fire in a already bur- never mind..." The fae mumbled but cut himself off.

Exhaling aromatic smoke, Lysette slowly descends. As each wire is revealed she points it out to those following her. Some the can step carefully around. Some need to be removed.

Pulling a multi tool from an oil rag in his rucksack, George removes those at her direction.

Getting to the foot of the stairs, a steel door faces them. Its old, about 20 years or so, but no where near as old as the basement its installed in.


anyone wishing to do stuff with the door, please roll a d6. {results will vary Depending on what you're doing}

Solstice backed away from the door, feeling uneasy.

Lysette will look for a handle and if she sees one, she will try to open the door.

The door is unlocked, and ever so slightly ajar. Easy enough to open.
Inside its all cold and darkness. What small amount of light that came down the stairs is obliterated within.

The room is full of dark, cold shapes. Angular mostly. There is so little light that Lysette can make out no more than there is no living blood in the room.

Lysette will use her cigar lighter for a tiny source of illumination inside the room. Just holding it through the partially open doorway.

Solstice attempts to cast a small orb of light.

17:07, Today: Solstice Flames rolled 5 using 1d6.  Orb of Light.

As Laysette flicks on her lighter, a brilliant flair of light causes everyone to see coloured spots, swirling before their eyes.
Whirls of colour, some only seen in imagination, mix and swirl around, and coalesce into a softly glowing orb. The light is ever so slightly shimmering, and illuminated the scene.

Surrounding them, they see workbenches and cabinets in disarray. Smashed and rifled through. But thats not what immediately captures their attention.

That would be the corpse, mostly lying under a only oily sheet.

Solstice gasped in horror. "A dead body! M-mr- gh- Detective Reese! There's a dead body!" He yelled.

Hearing the fae cry out "dead body", George follows down carefully.
"Well....fuck. It IS."
Crouching down next to it, he lifts the rags.
"Huh...no wounds."
Looking up at Lysette. "Guess that's why we didn't smell blood."

The floating globe then takes his attention momentarily. "Thats cool. Can you float it about, bring it closer to our...friend here maybe? Without burning me? I'm not sure how fast the detective can be, given hes running a barrier spell or something. So...Lets peek a little more hey?"

Solstice was visibly shaking as he brought the orb closer. "P-perhaps they were poisoned- or had a heart attack from fright..." He offered, looking like he could also just about die of fright any second.

The corpse is that of an old man. Dressed in worn but well made night clothes, if from some decades ago.



He has a couple of small bruises on his face, on either side. Further investigation reveals a couple more at his wrists, as if he was held tight, or bound with something.

"Anybody recognize him?" asks Lysette. She will touch the bare flesh of his wrist to feel his temperature, but she fully expects him to be all the way cold. It will take a forensic examination to fully determine time and cause of death.

"Guess we will need the real police in here now," she adds moving aside to give the rest of the room a quick search. "No disrespect, lieutenant, but we're just the talented amateurs, right?"

The body is quite chilled, from having lain in the cool basement overnight.

Searching the room, she finds a number of old engravings in each wall. And embossed on an iron plate on the back of the door. They appear to be old wardings of some sort. Put here when he place was built. Except for the plate. Thats relatively new. Like the handle.

Searching the room revels it has been well tossed earlier. Most things seem of some sort of value, the ones not broken by careless searching.

In one corner though, there is a set of shelves. Dust marks reveal that a few objects here have been carelessly pushed aside, behind which a patch, clear of dust, shows where something has been picked up and removed, rather than just pushed.

Running a hand over one of the engravings, George muses.

"Well, If they are supposed to be wardings, they didn't affect us."

Then looks down sadly at the dead man.
"Nor whoever, or whatever,  killed him."

Seeing that nothing else seemed to be attacking the group Dalion decided to go down and look at the room from the door. From that position, he decided to look around, not risking touching anything at the beginning.

Seeing that there were some things that appeared valuable he decided to enter the room to check them out.

Solstice rubbed the burns on his hands. "Well I'm glad you're all fine..." He said with the slightest hint of bitterness.

Hearing the hint of pain in Solstices voice, George walks over.

"Here...let me look at that."
Spitting into his hands, he goes to rub saliva on the faes hands if he will let him.

"My pack mum showed me this. I mean, mum would have licked your hands, but I'm pretty sure thats not polite outside of wolf company."

Solstice reeled back in disgust. "No-!" He cleared his throat. "No thank you... I'm not sure werewolf... Ahem, drool has any properties that would heal a non-werewolf..." He said.

"Its not so much healing, as antiseptic I think...but.." And he wipes his hands on his jeans "..it Is a bit ick I guess..."

Then a thought occurs to him and he laughs.
"If you get that disgusted at spit on hands..how do you kiss anyone?"
This message was last edited by the player at 23:49, Mon 05 Apr 2021.

Solstice turned bright red at that. "None of your business-!" He squeaked.

Shrugging. "Just asking.."
Enjoying Solstices embarrassment, as the were turns back to examine the markings, he  casually remarks "..and sex...well now..that's just down right Moist!"
This message was last updated by the player at 01:12, Tue 06 Apr 2021.

Solstice glared daggers. "I don't appreciate being made a fool of."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:49, Tue 06 Apr 2021.

"George!" Lysette admonished the hairy fellow. "I don't think you'd like it if I swiped a napkin through my privates and passed it to you, but I've no doubt you would enjoy a good snuffle at the real thing. A handful of spit is about as far from a real kiss as dung is from a donut. Leave the poor boy alone."

Taking out her phone, Lysette started taking detailed pictures of the various awards and sigils in the basement, careful not to touch the dead body or move any material evidence.

"How soon before the CSI team gets here?" she asked over her shoulder. "We'll want to be long gone by then. Too many awkward questions."

She wondered about her fingerprints on the door handle but did not want to wipe any underlying evidence away. She would have to trust the constabulary not to draw the wrong conclusions.