It was 2 days before they could finally pick up the investigation again, having had to wait upon the guard finding the missing servant of the Lund house. Inigo had planned to visit Lady Armelle the day after his visit to Marcus Lund, but he had eventually decided against it. There wouldn’t be much point until he could hear from the guard. He spent the majority of the ‘free’ day milling through reports and paperwork he had requested from Lund’s Trading Company, on behalf of the Omnimallage. Midway through the day, Nils had come to see him and the two of them began to go through the rest of the paperwork together. Inigo hadn’t particularly minded Nils helping him, but it was clear that the canine wanted to spend time with him. He ignored the potential connotations of that and instead focused on his work. The paperwork proved uneventful. It was as both Marcus and Fure described: the papers and transactions that Marcus had offered to them at the Omnimallage’s quest seemed innocent enough, but there was always particular payments going out, some small, some large. They had a feeling that Fure was correct in his assumption of illegal trading, but without any actual evidence to back up that hunch, they had little to go on. When the next day rolled around, Nils was already waiting patiently in the lobby of the inn for Inigo to rise from his slumber and join him. He looked anxious, his fingers tapping rapidly on the wooden table in front of him. He had some certain degree of news. Inigo appeared around 10am, stepping down the wooden steps clad in the fullness of his usual armour and equipment, as if he were about to take on an army. He spotted the canine from across the room with his vibrant, western-born fur and he strode on over, slipping into a seat beside him. “What’s the matter? Your face tells a sad story.” Inigo questioned with narrowed eyes, and Nils squirmed in his seat before letting out a defeated sigh. “The servant of Lund we’ve been searching for...we’ve found him,” Nils grimaced. “I’m afraid he’s not alive.” A sigh escaped Inigo’s lips and he leant forwards, placing a hand over the bridge of his wide snout. He arguably expected it. After all, the servant had been missing for days, which seemed a little coincidental considering the recent death of his master. Inigo wondered if the two were connected somehow...a partnership? A relationship? There was no use deducing. He needed facts. “Do we at least have the body?” Inigo questioned his aide, and Nils nodded towards him, attentive, ears twitching. “Yes, sire,” He assured him, his nose twitching briefly to the scents and smells of the innkeeper’s kitchen. “We have the body ready in the mortuary.” “Good. Let’s go examine the body.” Inigo suggested, getting to his feet. The mortuary that seemed to be the natural go-to for the guardsman of Aelibuch was just a handful of mortuaries that dotted around the city. This one in particular, named 'Svenson’s Funeral and Corpse Care’. It was a rather morbid and macabre name, and Inigo initially wondered why in all the five kingdoms that the guardsman would pick this particular mortuary over all the others, and then it became evidently clear: location. It sat square in the centre of the city, not far from the notable guards barracks. Inigo didn’t want to say that the guardsman were lazy, but he could understand the ease of access by having a mortuary close by. Like the majority of mortuaries around the five kingdoms, the owners of Svenson’s Funeral and Corpse Care, apparently simply known as ‘Svenson’s’, were well versed in magic. It was them that placed spells upon corpses in order to let them hang in suspended animation. The simple spell helped to both honour the dead and make it easier to bury the bodies in the future. Nils lead him towards the door and then lead them inside, the canine’s expression grim. He clearly wasn’t a fan of mortuaries, and Inigo could probably guess why. Unlike canines, a reptile’s nose wasn’t quite as sharp. If anything, most of his species tasted with their tongues. Inigo refrained from opening his mouth, but the faint scent of death was likely more potent in Nils’ nostrils. “Welcome, gentleman...detector.” A man strode in from the side door in the main entrance room to the mortuary, clad in robes that covered the entirety of his body, but left his feet and hands exposed. He beamed at the sight of the two of them, recognising the colours of Aelibuch’s guard, but his eyes widened and his eyebrows rose when he spotted the insignia painted across Inigo’s plated chest. “Apologies for the intrusion,” Inigo took the lead, reaching out his hand, which the undertaker clasped in his own and shook. “I was told you had a body come in this morning...my aide informs me its a servant of the Lund household.” “Ah, yes. Gruesome, if I might say so,” The undertaker grimaced and gestured to the pair of them. “If you’ll follow me, gentleman...” He lead them from the main entrance lobby and into the side room he’d just come out of. They were greeted to a rather blank room, but a set of stairs lead down into the cellar below them. The undertaker descended, and they followed. Beneath the house sat a stone cellar, and placed along simply tables were the corpses of the dearly departed, who were being prepared to be buried. “Over here.” The undertake lead them across the room to a body that sat on the slab, it’s clothes cut from its body, leaving it fully nude, with a tasteful cloth draped over its loins. Inigo stepped forwards and his brow furrowed. “Wait a minute, that’s...” Nils began, wide-eyed as the two of them examined the body. Cuts marred his body, primarily against his chest and some on his cheek. Bruises dotted the skin under his dull grey fur and the gashes were dry and tight. His death was almost identical to that of Kristoffer Lund, the man who they were investigating the murder of. Slowly, Inigo reached out his hand and he traced it along the wound, tracing the line of the largest cut with his finger. He frowned again. Nils was watching his face and wondered what the reptile was so confused about, and eventually, he couldn’t hold in his question any longer. “Sire, what’s the matter?” Nils asked quietly, leaning in closer and watching the reptile’s bare digit trace the outline of the wound more, eyes narrowed. “Whoever did this was clever...but not clever enough.” He pushed out his will and manifested his magic, letting it move just beyond his fingers to trace the cut as he glided his hand over it. He could feel nothing. “Nothing,” Inigo grunted. “This was a mortal killing, lacking in magic. There isn’t a trace of magical intent in these wounds, neither in the large nor small.” “Oh. Odd, it looks as if...” Nils began, staring at the body before him. “As if his death was made to look the same as Kristoffer Lund? Yes, you’d be correct in that assumption,” Inigo agreed. “But look here.” He moved his hand upwards and tucked the corpse’s chin up, revealing his neck. He moved his hand down and grazed it against the fur, eventually splitting the matted tuft to reveal some of the skin beneath. Nils caught site of the purple welts around the stranger’s neck. Inigo moved his hand to the servant’s eyes and peeled open an eyelid to reveal a bloody red eye, where the vessels had burst. “He was strangled.” Nils remarked quietly, his eyes wide. “Yes,” Inigo muttered, lost in thought. “It seems whoever killed this man deliberately made it look like a similar murder.” “Who in all the five kingdoms who do this to such a man?” Nils whispered. “Someone with plenty to lose.” ---------- x x x ---------- Inigo was full of questions. Who would kill an innocent servant? The answer was clear: the servant had purchased the wand, and he was disposed of for knowing who wanted it. The question was whether it was down to Marcus or Armelle, or someone else entirely who was trying to set them up. Considering how crafty they were to stage one murder as being something else, his third avenue of thinking wasn’t exactly all that far-fetched. He stood outside the residence of Lady Aremelle Lund, Kristoffer’s wife. He had sent Nils on an errand to track down a handful of employees from Marcus’ company, in the hopes that some of them might corroborate the rumours of illegal importing of potentially magical goods. Inigo hoped that applying pressure to Marcus might yield some much-needed information. As far as the investigation was going, his suspicion sat squarely in the region of Marcus Lund. A man who was proud and purported to know his company inside out could not be so oblivious to illegal dealings in his own midsts. No man could be so blind. There had to be more at stake; either he really was that idiotic, or he was lying. Taking a deep breath, the reptile strode up to the Lund estate and he rapped on the door, waiting patiently. The door inevitably swung open and there stood another one of her servants. She paled at the sight of the reptile, who had long since grown bored of their bulging eyes and quiet whimpers. He stepped past her and into the house, hearing the click of the door hitting the lock as he went. It was as clean and as professional as when Inigo had first seen it. The simple, minimalistic walls and clean biege and white colouring made the rooms sterile and empty, but Inigo wasn’t a man of interior design, and cared little for how the room looked. “Where is Lady Armelle?” Inigo demanded of the servant who nervously lingered by the door. The stout, middle-aged commoner pointed a shaky hand in the direction of a door at the far end of the room. Inigo nodded quietly and then turned, heading through the door at the far end that sat to the left of the staircase. Through there, he found himself in some sort of living room, with armchairs circled around a fireplace. At the far end was another door, and next to that, a window. Through the glass, Inigo could see a row of paintings. Inigo wasted no time in crossing the room and stepping through the door. He found himself in a large, glorious conservatory, with walls made of glass and a roof much of the same. Sitting around the conservatory was a row of canvasses, and others facing towards the wall, resting up with their backs exposed. Standing by one of the paintings, dressed in white robes that covered her body, leaving her beck and arms exposed. In her hand, she held a paintbrush, a row of pots sitting neatly against the canvas. “A painter, are you?” Inigo guessed, and Lady Armelle suddenly jumped, apparently rather surprised at his sudden arrival. “Oh, detector! I didn’t hear you come in. I’ll admit that I often focus rather intently on my painting. It is my one true passion.” She smiled warmly in the reptile’s direction, and Inigo nodded solemnly, striding across the conservatory and picking at the pots of paint. “There is a lot of canvasses here,” Inigo remarked. “Are they all for you?” “Heavens, no,” The canine chuckled, batting her lashes. “I perform a variety of extra-curricular activities for the students at the Academy of Arts.” “I believe I am familiar with them.” Inigo nodded, remembering that he’d passed the academy multiple times whilst he was walking around Aelibuch, and he’d become familiar with seeing painters walking in and out of the academy, as well as sculptors. “They come by once a week and I teach them some of the finer arts of painting that they might not learn. I also give them a space to practice with good light. I would rather do it at the academy, but, well...Kristoffer wasn’t all too happy with me leaving the house at the time.” Armelle admitted, and Inigo nodded his head. He didn’t want to assume, but he guessed that Kristoffer wasn’t very good to his wife. “Have you painted for long?” Inigo asked, and the female canine beamed in their direction, apparently pleased he’d taken this avenue of conversation. “Since I was a child, detector. My mother was a rather lovely painter and she passed on her knowledge to me. She was an inspiration in many ways.” She seemed almost wistful when talking about them, but he heard a hardness in her tone. “Forgive me for pointing out, Lady Armelle, but you don’t sound as if you’re getting along with your mother.” Inigo remarked quietly, hoping his opinion might push her to explain. The more he could learn about her, the better, arguably. “My mother-- no, my father primarily had a hand in it-- the two of them never spoke to me after I married. They sold me off to Kristoffer, for he paid a handsome dowry,” She spoke of it as if it were just a thing that happened to her, and nothing more; there was no emotion in her voice. “They needed the money, and Lund needed a wife, so a wife I became.” Inigo empathised with her: arranged marriages were a very common occurrence in almost all of the five kingdoms. Many hated the notion, but women were considered a lower class of people, good for nothing but the arts and giving birth. It was the men who fought, the men who were kings, and the men who worked. Women were considered incapable of such things, and were often sold off and married away to create acceptable heirs to a man’s empire. Sinaca was no different in that regard, and if anything, it was a little worse, considering the women often gave birth to more than 1 child. Inigo nodded solemnly in her direction and she seemed to appreciate the sentiment, even if Inigo couldn’t truly empathise completely, for he was a man. “If I may continue...I heard a number of rumours about your husband, Lady Armelle, and some of the company that he kept,” Inigo began. “Would you mind if I asked you a few questions about them?” “Not at all.” She blinked innocently at him, but he could sense the small hint of her clipped tone. She wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. Inigo didn’t want to offend her, but the questions were necessary. “I’ve been told by a source, one which I will not mention, that your husband paid for treatment for an acquaintance who required the services of the Medicamine Mage. Might you happen to know anything about that?” His question seemed to surprise her, if only a little bit. She smoothed over her features rather quickly. Someone who wasn’t experienced in investigation would likely have missed it, but Inigo picked it up. He said nothing of it, for now, but he kept of hold of that knowledge. “I don’t, I’m afraid. Though Kristoffer and I live...used to live together, I knew very little about his private life. There was a lot he kept from me. I wish he had confided in me, and then maybe I could have...” She trailed off, and Inigo understood. After all, she had just lost her husband. He cleared his throat and continued, not pressing her to divulge any details. “Alright, well...I’ve also heard from a similar source that Lund’s Trading Company has divulged in a number of potentially illegal activities. Might you have heard about some of these dealings? Perhaps by accident?” “What are you insinuating?” The woman’s voice rose and Inigo blinked slowly in her direction. She seemed to fume on the spot for a moment before smoothing herself over, her features relaxing, but her eyes remaining cold and steely. “I didn’t mean to offend, Lady Armelle. I must explore any and all leads,” Inigo reminded her. “One might potentially lead to his killer.” “Well,” She scoffed, turning away from him. “I never heard a thing. My husband was a good man, detector. He wouldn’t stoop so low as to deal in illegal goods.” “I’m sure. Thank you for your time, Lady Armelle.” Inigo knew better than to press a sensitive subject. He stepped away from her and out the door he’d come in from. He turned his head to see her standing away from him, looking out of the window, before she turned back to her canvas. With a sigh, Inigo strode out of the house. He had a feeling she was hiding something, but he couldn’t accuse her without evidence. For now, he’d have to wait. ---------- x x x ---------- The doors to the guardsman barracks swung open, and in stepped Inigo, clad in his usual armour that was mildly specced with mud, his face serious and his stature the same as ever. Having returned from Lady Armelle’s house, Inigo had spent the past 4 hours making his way to the scene at which they’d found the servant’s body, crawling through the ditches and the mud. One of the easiest things he had deduced was that the young servant, barely older than 21, had not died in the ditch. The mud and soil in that ditch was lacking in any sort of bodily fluids, be it blood or otherwise. Instead, all of was stained onto the servants clothes, from what Inigo had seen when he had inspected them after the body had been examined at the mortuary. The second thing he had deduced was that whoever had dragged him there had been one of sizeable stature. The earth around the ditch was barely touched, but many bootprints were scattered around the mud. Out of all of them, only one of them was slightly different and had no treads. There were no markings that indicated the body was dragged, giving Inigo the impression the body was lifted, and quite easily at that. It didn’t leave much for Inigo to guess, at the time. With the way the body was handled and who he was a servant to, Inigo could only assume that Marcus Lund was to blame for the death of the young man. Yet, again, the lack of evidence made it difficult for him to point the fingers. It was easier around the common folk. With nobleman, he didn’t have that luxury. Eyes stared at him, but many of them ignored him. Some had grown used to his presence over the past number of days, whilst others were still baffled that a detector walked amongst them. Inigo didn’t care for their stares, or their silent judging and remarks. Instead, his gaze swept back towards the door to the captain’s office. He had been summoned into the office when he had returned from his little trip. A messenger had waited for him by the gates, apparently aware of where he was at the time, which surprised even him. What the captain wanted to talk about, Inigo wasn’t certain. Yet, in the pit of his scaled belly, he had a feeling it wasn’t anything good. He stepped across the barracks once more until he stopped in front of the door. He didn’t knock this time, instead pushing the door open and stepping on through, closing it behind him. The captain was far from drunk this time. He sat behind the desk, sober and sour. His face was grim and his eyes were dark. When the detector stepped into his office, his mood darkened considerably and he balled his hands into fists, getting to his feet. “Did you speak to Lady Armelle today, detector?” He snapped as soon as Inigo closed the door, and the reptile slowly turned his head to regard the shaggy-furred captain with a quiet stare. “Anyone who can make that specific a deduction already knows it to be true. Why do you ask?” Inigo’s voice was quiet and deep, as rich as velvet. He stepped forwards until he stood opposite the desk that the captain sat up. The canine glared at him coldly. “Lady Armelle is a well known painter and contributor to the community, as well as a noblewoman in this city, detector,” He began, his voice slowly rising as he went. “Imagine my surprise when she sent a messenger to express her displeasure at the way you spoke to her earlier today.” “I asked the necessary questions in order for me to continue the investigation, captain,” Inigo placed his arms behind his back in an effective military stance. “I considered my line of questioning necessary to ascertain her own personal motives, and whether she might be involved.” “Might be involved? Might be involved?!” The captain repeated, standing up and slamming his fist on the table. “You fool, she’s just a woman!” “In my time traversing the five kingdoms,” Inigo’s stance didn’t waver under the captain’s berating, and he didn’t even flinch from the captain’s fist. “I have met many murderers and criminals who were women. I know better than to assume they are capable of nothing.” The captain fumed in his direction as his mouth clamped shut, but Inigo’s expression didn’t falter under his withering gaze. Instead, the captain rounded the table towards him. “You will not speak to Lady Armelle again,” The captain demanded, almost ordered. “She is a noblewoman, and whilst she offers not a lot of influence, her husband was friend to the king. He can have us hanged for even looking at her if he so wished.” “I do not answer to the king of your kingdom. My allegiance is with the Omnimallage.” Inigo warned quietly. He stood just slightly taller than the captain himself, and his black scales and beady eyes seemed to make the captain falter, if only briefly, before he puffed out his chest and straightened up. “Who do you think is the ranking official, detector? Me, the captain of the guard in the middle of one of the busiest cities of Sinaca, or you, lapdog to mages beyond your own comprehension?” The captain’s cutting words might have stung for any ordinary detector, but for Inigo, they just made him angry. The captain knew full well who had the authority here. Inigo sat between the guardsman themselves and the captain’s own rank: he didn’t have the authority to command the captain about, but had plenty of right to tell the guard what to do when they were on hand. Despite knowing this, the captain was goading him, trying to provoke him. However, Inigo was too well trained to be baited by such a obvious provocation. Instead, he kept his mouth shut and the captain seemed satisfied, a cocky grin spreading across his face when he realised he was in control. “Exactly. Be a good snake, and keep your nose away from the nobleman. Focus on the facts and get about your business, then leave.” He placed a hand on the reptile’s shoulder and patted him, albeit a bit forcefully, before he stepped away from him and rounded across his own desk again, a slovenly grin across his face that made him look repulsive. He took a seat in his usual chair and Inigo regarded him quietly, eyes narrowed. “What?” The captain looked up at him in mock confusion, as if nothing had happened. “We’re done here. Leave.” He waved a dismissive hand and Inigo could see the anger in his tone, the way his face twisted in annoyance at the sight of him, the tenseness in the canine’s muscles. It was clear he didn’t like him, but Inigo wasn’t there to be liked. “Your expression is very ugly.” Inigo spoke quietly, before turning away from the captain and stepping out of the room. He firmly closed the door behind him and clenched his fist, turning to stride forwards. He didn’t realise until it was too late that someone stood in front of him. He bumped into the man and stepped back, a little surprised. He soon realised he had bumped into Nils, who must have been waiting for him outside of the office. The auburn furred dog’s expression looked nervous and almost empathetic as he stared up at Inigo’s face, searching the reptile’s features for some semblance of expression or feeling. Inigo looked down at him for a moment, before stepping to the side and walking past him. “Are you okay? Did the captain grill you?” Nils asked when he’d finally caught up to the reptile, who had strode out of the barracks and back into the fountain square, his fists clenched and his jaw set. “Of sorts,” Inigo muttered darkly. “He made his authority known and ordered me not to approach Lady Armelle again.” “Wow,” Nils seemed surprised. “You must have said something to upset her.” “I asked her questions others might not have considered to ask. Ones that people wouldn’t dare to.” The reptile pointed out and Nils looked as if he empathised with him a bit. “Is anything going to happen?” Nils asked, with regard to potential repercussions that Inigo might have to face for his candid remarks and questions. “Likely not. My superiors are fully aware of how I operate by now. They will smooth this over on my behalf.” Inigo assured Nils, still walking. He needed to focus on his steps and the conversation in order to avoid getting irritated. He knew better than to let his emotions get the better of him. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” Inigo assured him, before he sighed. “Is there anything new? Any new leads?” “Sadly not, sire,” Nils grimaced. “I’ve not been told, nor have I heard of anything new.” Inigo sighed with frustration and felt his magic bubble beneath the surface, reacting to his emotions. There was a reason that magicians were often trained hard, especially detectors. Those with powerful magic were often a natural disaster if their emotions got the better of them. The Omnimallage referred to mages consumed by their own emotional magic as Fermotus. They were sort of a horror story amongst detectors-in-training, and they were specifically conditioned to keep themselves stoic and serious as a result. Inigo willed himself to calm down, and his magic fizzled down, dipping down from the surface of his scales and simmering to a mild bubble in the pit of his stomach. He turned towards Nils, who’s face bore a shroud of concern, his eyes wide at the sight of the reptile’s brief pause. “Very well,” Inigo began. “In which case, we must begin to explore alternate avenues.” “Do you have any ideas?” Nils asked, and Inigo paused for a moment, thinking. “...The brother. Marcus Lund,” Inigo began. “Call it a gut feeling, but something about him irks me. I cannot describe it.” “Well, what can we do?” “We can s--” Before Inigo could finish his sentence, he was cut off by the sight of a man coming towards him, a canine dressed in rags with no shoes who bore a heavy satchel by his side. Anyone who saw him might guess he was a mailman of some sort, but he came to them with a determined, albeit grim expression. Inigo dreaded what he might say. “Mr. Taborette? Mr. Hollen?” He looked to them both, and Inigo quietly realised that he hadn’t even known Nils’ last name until now. Then again, Nils likely wasn’t familiar with his, either. “What is it, messenger?” Nils put on his usual professional tone and the messenger boy sagged a little. “There’s been another body. The undertaker at Svenson’s requests your presence right away.”