“I’m glad you’re here. The body is this way.” Inigo and Nils arrived at the undertaker’s mortuary only a few minutes after they received the message, both of them attentive and alert. Another body wasn’t anything in and of itself, but for it to be so soon after Kristoffer Lund’s death was concerning. Hopefully it would be nothing, or it could be everything they potentially feared. “I haven’t had much time to examine the body myself,” The undertaker explained. “My apprentices put it in stasis and brought it straight here so that it could be examined by you, detector.” “I appreciate the prompt message you sent me, but surely you have a reason for contacting me other than a potential simple hunch?” Inigo asked quietly, striding way into the side room and down the steps, following the undertaker with Nils following behind him. “I do. You’ll want to see this.” The undertaker assured them with a rather solemn sounding tone. He lead them through the row of numerous corpses until he reached the one at the far end. It seemed that even the apprentices hadn’t finished their final arrangements before leaving, and were still working over the body, their hands outstretched around the body in front of them. Inigo cast his gaze over the corpse and realised immediately why the undertaker requested his presence. The body was that of a canine, who looked about middle-aged, barely older than 30. His fur was dark and shaggy, his features sunken and hollow. The front of his clothes were marred with strikes, but not simple stabs or blunt trauma, but cuts. Long, wide cuts. Inigo thought it was beginning to get a bit old. “No way...” Nils muttered, halfway between disbelief and horror. “Don’t tell me we have a serial murderer on our hands, sire.” “I don’t know.” Inigo muttered, stepping closer and waving his hands dismissively at the two apprentices that stood over the body. They had finished despelling the stasis membrane over his features and now the corpse sat cold against the stone, his eyes closed. Inigo reached out his hands, running them over the man’s body, hovering just above his fur. He willed his magic forth and let it expand like a bubble, originating from his hands. This time, however, he wasn’t looking for magic. He was examining the signs of death. Amongst the reptile’s other detecting magic, one of them was to detect wounds and injuries, in a similar manner that the more powerful healers in expensive hospitals could do. His magic was a little rudimentary, but he could grasp a basic gist of what he needed from examining the body, and this time it was no different. The reptile twisted his head left and right and he furrowed his brow. “Cause of death...blood loss,” He sighed, looking down at the body. “The reasons for that should be fairly obvious.” “Is there any magical intent?” Nils questioned, and Inigo closed his eyes again. He already had a hunch that it was, but he pushed his will out again and let it tickle along the wounds. He could feel the foreign tingle of magic against his bubble and he sighed through his nose, both irritated and unsurprised. “Indeed. Magic is at play here...another wand, if I had to guess.” He opened his eyes and focused a little more on that foreign tingle. “Different than the first, but a wand all the same.” “Now you have two wands to look for?” Nils grimaced. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin...” “A good start would be to identify this man,” Inigo replied, turning towards the undertaker, who stood not too far away. “Do you have anything for us?” “I believe so,” The undertake looked through a parchment he had. “Tor Rostad. I have no current address, but he was working at...Lund’s Trading Company.” Inigo and Nils exchanged a glance, and the reptile looked down at the body. Something didn't sit right, but he couldn't describe it. “I will need time to examine the body. If you don’t mind giving us some space, I would appreciate it.” Inigo spoke to the undertaker, who immediately bowed and stepped backwards, nodding in Inigo’s direction. He and his apprentices left them be to look over the body of one Tor Rostad. Nils stood there in silence, watching as Inigo ran his hands over the man’s body, examining every angle, every tiny inch of his fur. When he frowned, Nils looked confused, unsure what he was annoyed about. “Something doesn’t add up,” Inigo vocalised his words. “This fur...pristine further down, mangy at the front. This man regularly groomed, and well, too. The smoothness of his fur at the base is more than at the tip. High quality products were used here...he wouldn’t have afforded such a thing on the salary of a simple warehouse stacker.” Nils understood then why Inigo was confused. The man appeared to work a rather menial job, but clearly had the money to spend. The question was where he was getting the money from, and did it had any connection to Kristoffer Lund’s murder? “It seems like too much of a coincidence,” Inigo spoke as if he were reading Nils’ mind, when in reality they were likely just thinking the same thing. “It must be connected somehow. Perhaps its to do with those illegal imports we heard rumours about...” “You might be right.” Nils muttered, peering down over the corpse as Inigo began to spread one of the larger words, examining it more closely. “Given the size of the cuts, their thickness...I would guess that the wand used here was likely one for carving. It’s not as delicate as the wounds on Mr. Lund...these are more barbaric. A sculptor’s wand, I would guess, for marble and stone.” “That’s...gruesome.” Nils mumbled quietly, and Inigo nodded, looking almost empathetic. “Indeed...” Inigo stepped backwards and then moved back around the table, looking over at Nils before down at the body. He didn’t know what to think. The trail was running cold, and they didn’t have a lot to go on other than this body. “I don’t understand. Everything is pointing to Marcus Lund, but...why?" Inigo spoke quietly to himself as Nils watched him, his expression one of bewilderment, his head tilted to the side. “Do you think we should speak to Mr. Lund?” Nils suggested, and Inigo glanced to him, his own expression grim. “It might be wise. He might know something we do not.” ---------- x x x ---------- Marcus Lund wasn’t at his office, so Inigo and Nils instead travelled to his place of residence, a house quite unlike Kristoffer’s own. Notably, Marcus’ estate was on the outskirts of the noble quarter, leaning more into the commoner’s residences. Inigo wondered if that made Marcus harbor some sort of resentment, or whether he didn’t mind it at all. It would be worth mentioning. When they knocked on the door, it swing open almost immediately to reveal a well-dressed, professional canine, standing straight against the door. One quick look at Inigo’s chest told him all he needed to know, and he stepped to the side to allow them entry. Inigo nodded his thanks. “Gentleman. Detector,” Marcus suddenly spoke from the stairs, and he began to descend, adjusting his cufflink. “I was just on my way out on business. Is this urgent?” “I believe so,” Inigo assured him. “Are you familiar with a Tor Rostad?” Marcus visibly stopped when he heard the name, which arguably gave Inigo all the information he needed, but it was wise to still conduct formalities, in the event he could reveal something more. His expression remained unreadable as Marcus cleared his throat and straightened himself up. “Yes. He works for my company. Is he in trouble?” Marcus sounded apprehensive when he said it. “I’m afraid his body was found today. We’ve just been from the undertakers to examine the body.” Inigo explained, and Marcus looked momentarily shocked, before his features smoothed over. The reptile narrowed his eyes for a moment, before he continued. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to ask you a few questions about him.” The reptile asked and Marcus sighed through his nose, folding his arms. “Very well, but I don’t know what I can offer you other than what you already know. I didn’t speak with him one-on-one often.” Marcus insisted, sounding a little defensive. “Anything could help, Mr. Lund. Would you mind detailing the kind of role that Mr. Rostad had at your company?” “He was the floor director of imports,” Marcus was candid and honest. “Whilst I surveyed and dealt with all the deals and trade, he organized the crew on the warehouse floor.” “I see. So, for all intents and purposes, he had complete access to the goods that were being imported every day.” “Well, every 2 days, but yes,” Marcus explained, narrowing his eyes at Inigo. “What exactly are you implying, detector?” “I’m not implying anything.” Inigo knew better than to broach the subject of the rumours with Marcus Lund. Lady Armelle had already expressed her displeasure and filed a formal complaint for his question, and he didn’t dare think of what Marcus might do if he even insinuated it. He looked irritated enough the first time. “Did he have any friends, or relatives? Perhaps any enemies you were aware of?” “He didn’t particularly talk about his personal life. None of my employees did, and frankly, I don’t care. So long as they do their job, that’s all I need to know,” Marcus assured him, adjusting his fancy overcoat. “But he always worked late into the evening. I would guess he had no family, or none worth mentioning. He never made a fuss, either.” “I see. If I may ask, then,” Inigo carried on. “What sort of relationship do you have the Lady Armelle?” The sudden change in subject seemed to surprise not only Marcus, but Inigo’s aide, who looked at him with a bewildered expression. It was a line of questioning that neither of them had thought might come up, but Inigo had his reasons for it. After all, the two were together when they found the body. He had an inkling their friendship was more than just wife to brother-in-law. “She was my brother’s wife, nothing more. We’ve known each other since he married.” Marcus frowned at Inigo and the reptile nodded silently, watching him, his body language, his expression. “And that was all?” Inigo pressed, and wondered if he’d stepped too far. Marcus bristled and he puffed out his chest, his eyes widened and his nostrils flaring as he pulled back his lips into an angry snarl. “What the hell do you think you’re implying?! That’s my brother’s wife you’re talking about!” Marcus exclaimed, looking away from them and straightening himself up again, his features smoothing over. “I will not stand here and endure these insults. I’m leaving.” Marcus shoulder barged past Inigo and strode from the house and out into the street, where a carriage was waiting for him. He stepped inside and it trundled off, leaving Inigo and Nils standing in the middle of the man’s hallway. “...That went well.” Nils muttered. "Indeed." Inigo quietly replied, sighing through his nose. "Should we follow him, sir?" "No, leave him be. It would do no good to anger the aristocrats by forcing him to stay in the capital," Inigo replied, striding out of the door with Nils in tow. "I have another lead." ---------- x x x ---------- Having attempted to question Marcus Lund and hit a dead end, Inigo went with his next course of action: the enter the house of Tor Rostad and see if he’d left any clues to his demise. Rostad owned a small shack on the edge of the city, close enough to the docks for him to be able to commute without much difficult. Whilst Inigo went to his place of residence, he sent Nils to speak to some of the employees on site of Lund’s Trading Company. Marcus had apparently travelled to Portum on business and would be unavailable until tomorrow afternoon. When Inigo finally found the man’s home, with a little assistance from nearby residents, he wasted no time in effectively ‘breaking in’ to the home. He didn’t want to do it, but the man was dead, so it wasn’t as if he would complain about it. All mages knew at least the most basic of magic, and Inigo was no different. To be an efficient investigator, he needed to know all manner of magics that were typically classed under ‘stealth magic’; spells to heighten hearing and the senses, or even unlock doors, were at his fingertips. He employed such a spell whilst in front of the house, clasping the handle and letting his magic slink through into the lock. He willed it around with surprising dexterity until he heard the audible ‘clunk’ that informed him the door was unlocked. Satisfied, he stepped through. The interior of the house was surprisingly different than the exterior. Whilst the shack had looked shabby and run-down on the outside, the interior was lush and extravagant, something more befitting the upper echelon. A carpet had been laid along the hallway that looked like plush velvet, and along the walls hung expensive paintings. At least, they looked expensive. To Inigo, something didn’t add up with this man. His house looked poor, but his interior was lavish. That spoke highly of a man who had a lot of money to spend, but didn’t want to show it, much like he had with his fur. With a frown, the reptile stepped in further and found much of the same around the canine’s house. There had to be something there, but it could potentially be out of reach. He stood in the middle of the man’s living room and he swelled his magic out, letting the invisible bubble do all of the detecting for him. As he pushed his bubble out, he felt resistance to his right, something jamming his magic. That, in itself, was worrying, but he knew the reasons for it. He remember the location and fanned his magic out to the left, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He liked to be thorough. Turning his attention to the right, he spotted a sizeable bookcase. Whatever had blocked his magic was sitting just behind it. He moved towards it and scanned the bookcase, running his fingers along the lip of each shelf until he found a section that seemed to lack as much dust as the rest. He didn’t take Rostad for a reader-- it was all a front. He pulled the book behind the clean space, and heard a click. Slowly, the bookcase swung out, hinged on the left hand side to reveal something embedded into the wall behind it. Inigo guessed it was a safe, given it’s solid metal square outline and the keyhole that sat square in the centre. It was about as secure as one could get: no-one would think to look there, but there was more to that. The reptile reached out his finger, dragging it along the surface of the safe. Immediately, sparks crackled at his touch and he felt a brief stab of pain, making him hiss and withdraw his digit back rather sharply. His eyes narrowed at the safe and he soon realised what the issue was: Obisteel. A metal invented by one Musa Shakir, Obisteel was crafted with blocking magic in mind. Made for the commoners who feared their destructive force, the crude anti-magic metal was useful, but expensive. Only those who had the means and the contacts could acquire such items, and those who used it nearly always had something to hide. Inigo stared at the safe for a moment, before retrieving one of the fine knives he held around the sash that went along his chest. If he couldn’t use magical means, he’d have to use more rudimentary, physical means. He jammed the knife into the sizeable keyhole and wormed the blade around, listening closely. He turned his head to the side and stung out his tongue, concentrating. This was never his expertise, but he wasn’t bad at it. Before being taken to work for the Omnimallage, he had made an effective thief in his small hometown of Patulis. He was a little rusty-- after all, it had been many years-- but he was confident that he could do it. After a little bit of manoeuvring, he heard a quiet click, and the lock that held the door in place loosened. He sighed with satisfaction and then stepped back, pulling the safe door open. Inside wasn’t quite what he’d expected. Stacks upon stacks of coins sat in the safe, piled from the back to the front. That wasn’t what surprised him, however. Instead, he was more interested in the bottom shelf. Instead of coins, there sat a number of sparkling, glowing gems. They were a mineral known as Magicite, incredibly rare, and incredibly expensive. Inigo was almost convinced now. This man had been importing magical items illegally before his death. Someone knew about it and wanted him dead. ---------- x x x ---------- “Another body? God damnit, what the fuck is this detector doing?!” The captain of the guard slammed his tankard against his desk and Nils jumped in front of him, ears splaying against his head and tail tucking between his legs. He didn’t like it when the captain got angry. “Y-Yes, sir. Finding the murderer is a lot more difficult than we thought.” Nils explained with a quiet stammer and the captain glared at him from across the table, before he sighed and placed his head in his hands, both frustrated and displeased. “The king is breathing down my neck. We have no leads, no-one in the dungeon...” The captain muttered. “We’re running around with our heads up our ass! Why haven’t you produced results, Nils?” “I...well, sire, I--” Nils began to speak, but was quickly cut off. “I gave you plenty of chance. When you heard the detector was coming, you practically begged to me like a mutt to go alongside him during his visit. If I knew you were this incapable, I would have put someone else in your position.” Nils lowered his head. It was true; he was infatuated with magic, and infatuated with the idea of doing the kind of job that Inigo was known for. He was doomed to a life of non-magic potential, but that didn’t mean he could relish the possibility, for as long as he were able. “It’s not our fault...the leads have been slim, and--” “That’s no excuse,” The captain scoffed. “A man accepts his weaknesses the failures. He doesn’t blame everything else!” “Yes, sir.” Nils bowed his head even further, almost bending over with his own sheer subservience. The captain regarded him quietly for a moment before leaning back, a sigh escaping his nostrils. “Perhaps assigning you to something other than royal guard duty was a job that was simply too soon for you.” The captain muttered. “Please, sir. Give us another 3 days. I’m sure we’ll find the killer by then. I swear it.” Nils insisted, and the captain stared at him, searching him up and down. Nils nervously stood his ground and stared back at him. “...3 days. If you don’t find the killer by then, then you wont just be returning to guard duty. You’ll be stripped of your rank completely.” The captain warned, and Nils paled beneath his fur. A quiet whimper escaped his lips and he swiftly bowed to avoid letting the captain see his expression. He stepped backwards slowly and then turned, leaving the door and quickly shutting the door behind him. Panting, he thrust his back up against the door and closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. He wasn’t angry, nor frustrated, but he was scared. Losing his job would be the end for him. His parents would have him back, but he enjoyed his time in the city. He desperately wished he had magic, so that Inigo might take him with him. “Everything alright?” The deep, vibrant tones of a man so familiar to him made Nils briefly shudder, and he opened his eyes, standing face to face with Inigo. The canine’s eyes widened and he gulped, before grasping the reptile’s hand, Inigo’s fingers exposed through his fingerless gloves. “We need to talk.” The urgency of Nils’ tone brought Inigo to attention and he promptly let himself be lead out of the barracks like a stray puppy. Nils lead him across the rode into the quiet of a nearby alleyway, where the feral rats squeaked beneath them and the dank drainpipes up above leaked and dipped to the floor below. Nils picked a dry spot and then took a deep breath. “The captain, he...he isn’t happy, sire,” Nils explained vaguely, not going into detail of the dominant, verbal abuse he’d suffered from his superior. “He’s given us 3 days to find the killer.” Inigo was quiet for a moment, his brain calculating the possible chances of both finding the killer, and avoiding any reprimand if they didn’t. The odds weren’t good, but there was on key piece of information he needed. “What will happen if we don’t?” Inigo asked quietly, and Nils dropped his head. The reptile already knew what Nils was going to say before he’d even let it past his lips. “They’ll strip me of my rank, cast me out...I honestly don’t know what they’ll do to you.” Nils muttered. “Likely send me back to my superior,” Inigo sighed, before he reached out and placed a hand on Nils’ shoulder. “Do not let that fear fester, Nils. We will find the murderer, and you will not face the streets.” Nils looked up at Inigo with warm eyes, full of an appreciation and affection beyond his years. His tail wagged behind him before his face fell the uncertainty clouded his gaze, his nose twitching and his ears briefly folding back against his head. “But if we fail...” He began. “I...I don’t know what I’ll do. Will you take me with you?” Inigo dropped his eyes for a split moment, before he raised them to meet the canine’s gaze again. He could see it in that 19 year old’s eyes. The depth of emotion, the desperation, the pain, the longing. What he felt was new, raw and fresh. It was not yet refined, but it blossomed like a wildfire. At the reptile’s stoic, unreadable expression, Nils’ grimaced, assuming the worst. “I...” Inigo trail off. He didn’t want to hurt the man’s feelings. The Omnimallage wouldn’t allow a single non-magical entity within their walls. Even those who committed magical crimes were confined to a nearby prison operated by only a handful of magical guards. “I understand.” Nils spoke, barely above a whisper. He reached up to curl his hand around Inigo’s wrist, holding onto him for just a moment. The reptile watched his hung head and he heard something; a quiet sniffle, and a tiny, pained whimper. Inigo wasn’t a very emotional person, nor was he particularly good in a social setting, but he at lest knew what to do when someone was upset. He pulled his hand forward, gently guiding Nils’ shoulder and upper body against his own broad, muscular chest. He wrapped his other arm around the canine’s waist and, after a moment or two, Nils reached his arms up, curling them around Inigo’s neck. He stood on tiptoes and breathed in the reptile’s scent, a quiet sigh escaping his lips as he buried his head into the detector’s shoulder. It was the comfort he craved, but there was clearly something more. Inigo felt the warmth of him, his hammering heartbeat and tense muscles. He could sense Nils’ nervousness, and to a degree understood it. He had guessed Nils’ inclination since the bath house. He would never think to mention it, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to entertain the canine’s emotions either. He couldn’t deny it felt nice though, to have a man’s arms wrapped around him, an emotionally vulnerable figure desiring the embrace of his own large body. To be wanted was nice, but to be needed on such a carnal level was a luxury that Inigo wished he could indulge himself in more. He felt Nils’ hands move, felt his grip loosen. His body, however, didn’t move backwards. Instead, his fingers danced down along Inigo’s neck an along his muscular shoulders, tilting his head to graze the tip of his muzzle against the detector’s cheek. Inigo’s scales tingled with an uncommon and startling sensation: desire. His grip tightened against Nils’ body and he felt the canine’s heartbeat quicken, faster than before. To feel the affections of another was something new to Inigo; he, a man who many feared, a man who many outside of his own species found him repulsive, was at the bottom of the barrel when it came to attraction. Yet, here in front of him stood a vulnerable and hormonally driven 19 year old, trying to kiss him. Inigo sucked in a breath and he suddenly stood back, almost flinging himself from Nils’ body. His own heart slammed inside his chest, the blood pumping through every inch of his body. His scales felt like they were on fire, and he clenched his fists, the heat rising to his cheeks. He had to calm down. “Inigo, what--” Nils began, but Inigo just held up his hand, keeping distance between him and the canine before him. “Stop! I...I cannot.” He eventually managed to say, feeling his own magic burning beneath his scales, demanding to come to the surface. He forced it back with his own will, to the point where he felt as if it physically hurt to keep it at bay. He caught a climpse of Nils' expression, the pain that etched across his young features, before they smoothed over and the canine awkwardly cleared his throat, adjusting himself. "I..." He couldn't seem the find the words of what he wanted to say. "I need to go." The young canine turned and strode down the alley, at a pace that was bordering on a light jog, and Inigo didn't follow him. He wanted to, but he could feel the magic burning inside of him, and every movement seemed to set it alight further. He restrained himself and stood on the spot, visibly shaking from the exertion it took him to push the torrent of emotion of magic down. He finally calmed his quickening heartbeat and the deep pounding in his ears receeded, leaving him with nothing but a bitter frustration. To yearn for something he could never have was a horrid curse. Every step he made towards potentially finding companionship was always met with the harsh rebuttal of his peers, or the screaming inside his mind and heart, fighting with each other. He knew what the consequences of his actions would be if he even considered giving in: his magic would spread like a wildfire. Whilst he didn't specifically know what might happen, he knew for certain that someone would be hurt. He clenched his fist, feeling a the fleks of ice pushing against his scales where the magic had manifested against his own will. He looked down at his hand and stretched out his palm, frowning in annoyance at the thin layer of frost over the palm of his hand and across his fingers. It had been too close for comfort. He felt that same bitter feeling rise again and pushed it down, turning away from where Nils had left to look in the opposite direction. He pushed himself into his work, into his job. Anything to not think about what he was feeling. With no leads, he had only one suspect left: Marcus Lund. A man who seemed utterly loyal, perhaps to a fault. Too many things pointed in his direction, but Inigo couldn't ascertain, with any degree of certainty, that he was the culprit. With Marcus out of the city, it gave Inigo the perfect opportunity to explore his place of work. He knew it was against their permission and, if he were caught, he would likely be reprimanded for it. Yet, as the sun set above him, he decided what he was going to do, his jaw clenched in determination. He was going to break in.