PM to join Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Lorak's are confronted by the grizzly death of one of their most expensive slaves. PM Verana Lorak to Join

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This lazy agricultural settlement rests on the swampy shores of the Middle Suvan at the delta of The Kenash River. The River's slow moving bayou waters have bred a different sort of people - rugged, cultured, and somewhat violent. Sprawling plantations of tobacco and cotton grow on the outskirts of the swamp in the rich Cyphrus soils, while the city itself curls around the bayou and spawns decadence and sins of all sorts. Life is slower in Kenash, but the lack of pace is made up for in the excesses of food and flesh in a city where drinking, debauchery, gambling, slavery, and overbearing plantation families dominate the landscape.

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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Translucent on December 16th, 2013, 2:05 am

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Time Stamp: 5th Winter 513 late bells

The night time was chilly, a damp coolness that seemed to cling to you uncomfortably and without ease. The type that makes you long for a hot fire and a blanket, or perhaps a lover, instead of being out on the streets in the darkness. The night sounds of the swamp were muted as the small crowd of people scared away most of the things that chirped in the night. Torches lit sent a flickering yellow light over the area, where the Whitesnake's property line ended and the swamp truly began.

A slave, one of the endless number of field hands had found it, and had promptly ran to tell a house slave, who went and told her personal retainer, who summoned his Mistress from her bed chambers. On another night he might have been punished for interrupting her bed chambers, but tonight Loranna was alone and angry. Tuthron was not there, her personal body slave who she had cherry picked from the auction house to be her ...special slave. His face who had been so exotic with its caramel coloring, his bold blue eyes, too pretty to brand with a branding iron so she had paid extra to have him tattooed. During the day he was her protector, her silent body guard, and during the night he was her personal courtesan.

Until tonight when he hadn't returned from fetching a cousin from the town proper. He had not returned home, and the cousin had come in flouncy and disturbed by having to take a ride from another friend home. Loranna Lorak had ignored the protests and sent out another slave to check after Tuthron, it was not like him to shirk his duties. She remembered thinking how much she would hate to have to scar that beautiful back, but if he was going to forget that he was in fact a slave and not a guest then she might have to.

That had been bells ago, and slowly her anger stirred to rage, and then to worry, and finally to fear. Not fear for his life really, she didn't love him but she had a lot invested in him. So when the cry came out that someone had been found dead, Loranna had donned her dressing gown, an absolutely ridiculous silk number that hugged her curves and spoke of her wealth. Her feet were covered in slippers that would have to be replaced now that she was out in the yard, her feet becoming damp with the chilled dew.

Others were coming as well, though foremen were pushing the slaves back, not all who came were the slaves. Loranna pulled her dressing gown tighter around herself as she got closer to the bloodied..thing. Her face twisted in disgust at all the blood, but she was a Lorak, and a head of house so it was her duty to see this through. So she nods, and another body servant moved forward and unceremoniously rolled the body over.

Loranna gasped, it was Tuthron, his face that had been so beautiful horribly disfigured. Why had they cut off the skin of his cheek, leaving it gaping so wide she could see white bone amid red flesh and sinew. His eyes were frozen open, those pretty blues were now cloudy with death. His body was nude, completely stripped and his body was riddled with cuts, thin and shallow. A message carved though, in his thick chest muscle read "Loyal Slave". That was when Loranna realized the significance of the cheek being flayed open, they had cut off her mark on him.

The head of the house saw red, her disgusted features turned to anger, her eyes turning from a shocked blue to a orange red that told of her anger. "He ..was...Mine!!" Her voice rang out in a rage, turning her head she pointed to the body slave near by, "You! Run fetch the magistrate..no don't touch the body stupid!" Loranna rarely acted in anger, preferring to sit on her emotions and dwell so that the right time is chosen to release it. She was not planning on making any decisions now, but she did have to start the ball rolling if whoever did this would find justice for stealing and destroying her property.



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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Verena Lorak on December 18th, 2013, 11:55 am

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"You should really go to sleep, Ver," Zorane yawned sleepily, his gaze sliding over his younger sister with a degree of annoyance. When she had barged inside without so much as a knock, he was certainly tempted to tell her go away, but the look on Verena's face was enough to make him pause. His younger sister sought him occasionally, of course, but never so late. Zorane figured there was something bothering her.

Verena merely snuggled deeper into the old armchair, hoping to get some warmth from the fireplace. Even after a bell since she had jarred herself out of the dream, the thought of it still gave her chills. The hair on the back of her neck rose, making her shiver. Not much scared her, but these days, things had been going particularly bad. "I cannot. I want to stay here. I don't want to be alone." She could not explain it, but being in one room with another living being had soothed her in many ways.

Clearly displeased, her brother muttered something indiscernible, mentioning the name Cassius. Verena's jaw clenched involuntarily, bracing herself for the wave of horror from the dream. She had seen Cas die and he had yelled for her name. But she didn't help him. She stood there and stared as her betrothed was swallowed by the darkness. It had been nearly a week since she had last seen him. The Pailles were still mourning from the deaths of Nibil and his family.

Huffing in defeat, Zorane shook his head. "Suit yourself." But before he could settle in his bed, an furious cry pierced through the walls. The siblings looked at each other, recognizing the voice of their half-sister and head of house. While Zorane looked bewildered, Verena's expression barely changed - even with the confusion and panic stirring inside of her.

Without a chime to waste, the siblings rushed downstairs, unsure of what commotion had started in their home. Her silk robe flew behind her, but Verena paid no attention to it at all. The cold night air bit into her skin, sending a shiver down her spine.

A crowd had already gathered outside, muttering among themselves, her family, freeborns and slaves all the same. The tension was nearly visible, choking her. She could hear Lorana's familiar voice as she pushed through the crowd.

Even with her occupation as a doctor, Verena took a step back at the sight, bumping right into Zorane. Her brother placed a steadying grip on her arm, but something told her it was for his sake too - he was less fond of blood than anyone else in the family. Grotesque did not even start to describe the bloody mess of flesh lying on the manicured ground. A slave she recognized well enough. The Lorak had never bothered to find out his name but she kenw that he was around Lorana constantly.

"What happened? How . . .?" Gritting his teeth, he turned to the chief of guard of Whitesnake, Luca Ranolus. "What happened?"


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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Translucent on December 18th, 2013, 2:11 pm

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Loranna was aware that a small crowd was starting to gather, and while she had no investigatory skills she knew that so many people would certainly muddle any thing that might be gleaned from this area. "Everyone go away..go back to what you were doing." Her voice was hardened with rage, but beneath the anger lay the cool tone of authority used by a woman who was used to having it. Her fiery orange eyes swept the crowd, dismissing most as slaves or free hands, but finally they land on her half sister and brother.

"Verena, come here." She didn't extend the invitation to Zorane, perhaps because she was aware of his delicacies when it come to the gruesome, perhaps for more political reasons. Her reasoning was her own and she didn't reveal. Instead she turned back toward the body of a favored slave, her hands on her hips. The sight would be forever etched into her mind, and while the sorrow she felt was not because Tuthron was a person lost to death, it was because she had lost her favored pet.

"Tell me Verena, why would anyone do something like this..what good did it do them at all?" She turned her head to watch as the slaves and free hands had started to drift off at her command, leaving the area almost feeling devoid of life. A shiver that had nothing to do with the cold shuddered through her. "Do try and tell me what had killed him..don't touch the body if you don't have to. The magistrate will be here soon..Konrath isn't normally someone I would find endearing but in the light of this event I can't say I wouldn't be happy to have such a large male nearby."



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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Verena Lorak on December 21st, 2013, 4:54 am

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Verena could see Zorane's jaw tightening when Lorana only mentioned her name and not him. He never really liked being ordered around, even when he would've left otherwise. She could understand that, but defying the Head was not the best of ideas. Especially when she was this upset. "I'll tell you about it," the Lorak whispered carefully to her brother.

As the crowd dispersed, she knelt down on the ground, making sure she did not accidentally touch or bump into the body. It was not the first time Verena had ever seen a dead body, but it was one of the most gruesome.

From the extend of the wounds, she couldn't help wondering if the slave was tortured first. The Rujaros had never been this bold before and it was worrisome. "He was certainly dumped here right after he was killed. The wounds are somewhat fresh. I think he bled out. The rest of the cuts are superficial." Unlike most Dynasty women, Verena carried herself calmly in the sight of such horror, her voice still cooly professional. She really wasn't talking to anyone, more like thinking out loud, caught up in her own thoughts. "Maybe it was for show. The injuries are certainly dramatic. Certainly it will scare everyone in our Dynasty."


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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Translucent on December 21st, 2013, 8:56 pm

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Loranna Lorak did not retain her authority by being unobservant, she noted the exchange between the siblings but in the end Zorane did as he was told and that was all that really mattered. It is not as if she didn't already watch the twain like a hawk. Her hands moved to clutch her silk robes tighter, but she refused to show weakness by retreating indoors. No she would be out here when that new Magistrate got here. The Konraths, one of the more exotic and hard to read households. This season was sure to be a minefield if she wasn't careful, at least with the Radacke's you knew when they were mad or annoyed, the Akalaks were so stoic it was hard to tell.

"Of course it was for show!" Loranna said exasperated, even she could tell it was for show. One didn't carve words into a body and not want it to be for show. "Bleeding out, that sounds slow. Tuthron was not a light weight, he would have fought back.. unless.. unless it was a Dynasty. Oh.. what if it was a Dynasty, who would do such a thing. Radackes, they are too blunt and forward. They would just have killed him out right if he did something to them. If I had offended them they would be forthright to come after me.. no not the Radackes.. Maybe the Zulaca's? Half that house is an ex slave.. surely beneath us but for that silly nuit.."

Loranna didn't deign herself to squat, her anger and annoyance was too exciting, her body felt like it was humming with energy. One hand raised to thrust briskly through her honey brown locks, and her eyes went from the orange to a smoldering blue as she contemplated who could have been so enraged that they had tortured her pet slave to such ends. He was going to be so difficult to replace.

"Keep looking, hurry! Before the Magistrate gets here, if it happened to be the Konraths that did this we want to make sure we don't miss the evidence before the magistrate can eliminate the evidence." She really didn't think it was the Konraths but right now you never knew. "You have several chimes before he gets here..especially if he is going to bring that strange barbarian body guard of his. Hurry!"

Loranna settled behind Verena her hands on her hips not getting close enough so that the blood would not soil her slippers.

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Forty chimes later ...

A carriage approached Whitesnake plantation, a slave sitting on the front guiding the beautiful horses up the drive. Whitesnake slaves came scurrying out to open the door to the carriage and to help the Konrath slave driver take care of the horse. From within the carriage a large man stepped forth, his blue skin a deep hue that identified him as Akalak. If his large size and muscular build did not. His black hair was worn loose, unlike the normal style of the Akalak in Riverfall, Lorenzo Konrath preferred the look of luxury then the look of someone ready for combat. Of course, he was not so cut off from his roots that he did not still carry his Lakan, and was not still deadly with it. However, these days he found himself more apt to order a slave to do the killing for him. Even so it would be foolish to discount Lorenzo Konrath as anything but deadly.

His body guard was with him, a freeborn that only Lorenzo knew who he really was. While Lorenzo felt that he could handle his own security, he was willing to continue the tradition of having a body guard, who really was more of a muscle man in Lorenzo's mind. Someone who would ferret out trouble and take care of it for him. Something about the man though screamed ambition, however Lorenzo knew that could be used to his advantage.

Moving around the plantation, not paying any attention to his bodyguard to see if he was following, Lorenzo made quick strides toward where the lady Loranna and what looked to be her sister ..or was it half-sister..human's procreated so much that sometimes Lorenzo lost track of relationships."What has happened here Loranna?"

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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Kalesserimamoru on December 22nd, 2013, 1:00 am

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The carriage ride to the Whitesnake's property wasn't very long at all. Mamoru had traveled much further in his time on more than one occasion. During the ride he looked around at the world outside. So much different from where he came from, but there were some things that were the same. The city was a huge difference much like that in Black Rock, but the forest...the swamp, that seemed familiar, and if he didn't stared too hard it looked something like the jungle that he was used too. The carriage itself was of interest and the horses that moved it. Beefy horses, chunks of nice, raw flesh and muscles.

The Dhani could feel his mouth water, a meal like that and he could sit at home for at least a week without needing to do anything but relax. Then there was Lorenzo, a big blue man. Akalak they called themselves. Mamoru was learning so much about the world and the beings that lived in it. Jungle monkeys called Myrians, a tattooed race of freaks who numbered like cock roaches. To the odd people and ghost that lived in Black Rock, and to the sea of grass where men rode the plains on boney horses. And there was Kenash, a city that appeared to have a little of everything settled in.

Mamoru stared through unblinking green eyes as he watched Lorenzo. The man was blue which was odd for a skin color. Many Dhani were pale shades of white and grey, while others who had spent a lot more time in the sun were darker, some even as tanned as the Myrians. The only other being that he knew of that came close to the same skin tone were the Zith. The night stalkers on the sea of grass. Men with fur on their bodies and large wings like bats. During his time in the sea of grass, Mamoru had studied these beast and learned their power. They were an interesting race to be sure.

Resting inside the carriage, he waited for them to arrive. The trickster had morphed himself into his barbarian form. Lorenzo knew his true identity but had been sworn to keep it secret. For Mamoru's own purpose, he chose to hide himself while still living in plain sight. He was new to the place and not everyone was worth trusting. At this point he wasn't sure Lorenzo was either. However if the man did prove to be less than he claimed, he would be dealt with.

Once they arrived, he waited until the Magistrate stepped out and then followed behind him. This form was tall, standing about '6'5 and weighting around 285 lbs. His hair was long, slick and dark, matching that of the thin beard that covered his face. His dark attire consisted of boots, dark pants and the bone armor vest that he normally wore during guard duty. He wore a tribal tattoo on his right shoulder and the brand of the freeborn upon his forearm. Mamoru followed Lorenzo to the group of people standing together. He said nothing for the moment and only observed.


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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Verena Lorak on December 22nd, 2013, 3:44 am

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Verena shrugged lightly when her older sister snapped at her. She was no investigator and what did Lorana expect, really? Still, the mystery had caught her interest and she would have investigated even without Lorana. Peering in closer, Verena took note of the abrasions on the slave's wrist. She reached out to touch it, but thought twice about it. The body was evidence and she wasn't sure if she should touch it.

"Not if he was tied down or drugged, Lor," the younger Lorak pointed out lightly. He must be tied at some point, how else they were going to hold down a big man like that? "They can't make a wound like that without making sure your slave wouldn't fight back." So far, that was the only clue she had, the torn cheek of the slave. That sort of pain might knock someone out. If the wound was made postmortem, it wouldn't bleed all that much. Besides, the skin around the wounds were noticeably swollen - one of the characteristics of antemortem injuries.

Ugh. All this was giving her a headache. She was not trained to find causes of death. Verena's job was to heal and she usually didn't pay that much attention to when the injuries were caused. Lorana wouldn't happy if she said that out loud, though.

Verena glanced around the vast darkness around them. Where did he come from? The expanse layout of the plantation was no help to determining how the slave was dumped here. Guards patrolled the grounds, though it wouldn't be easy to slip past them individually, how did they manage it while lugging a dead body? Taking a deep breath, she called on her djed. Magic pumped to her eyes as she struggled to find some significant clue that might help. She was no expert Aurist but she could try. Unsurprisingly, the slave himself carried a very weak aura - as he was already dead - while Lorana's was pulsing in red anger. She remembered that she had read somewhere that sometimes, auras left residue in the environment. Will she be able to spot them?

Straining to concentrate, Verena forced herself to block everything out. It would need more effort than she usually handle but she could face the consequence. It took several chimes and Lorana might wonder what her half-sister is doing, wasting time like that. If the Head paid a closer look, she would realize that Verena's pupil dilated almost unnaturally. What she wouldn't see was what her sibling was seeing.

Auras flared around her. From the trees, from the rocks, from everything. Faint, very faintly, she caught a glimpse of an unfamiliar aura, trailing towards the swamp. It might have been her imagination, it might not, but she exert her magic and she had to stop. Gritting her teeth, Verena shut down her magic with a gasp, feeling like the wind had been knocked out of her. Her eyes stung and her head pounded uncomfortably. She was probably real close to overgiving.

No more magic for a while. Maybe the bruises could give her a sense of how the slave's body was transported. But that would mean she was to move the body to give a thorough check. "Should we wait for the Magistrate to move the body?"

Time passed without helpful information she could glean anymore. Verena barely realized that the Magistrate, Lorenzo Konrath had arrived at the scene. Gingerly, she stood up, her eyes looking over the two men cautiously. The Magistrate and a man who seemed to be some sort of guard. They looked more like the sort of pair to be in a fight, not an investigation. But she didn't voice her opinion out loud - she would've made her brother proud. Even someone like her knew better than to annoy the Magistrate.


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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Translucent on December 22nd, 2013, 4:02 am

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Loranna's eyes flared orange again at Verena's words. The audacity of someone doing something like this to her was beyond anything that Loranna could comprehend. She didn't think herself above the other Dynasties but she certainly was important. House Lorak provided Kenash with a large portion of income, by the gods the Magistrate better find the culprit and quickly.

"Really Verena, the body is over here what ever are you looking for off that direction?" Loranna chided her sister. She really did love her family, but she did find them -particularly the siblings- to be a possible threat to her seat of power. That was the downside of being head of household, in Loranna's mind, always having to watch for the proverbial dagger to the back. Before she could draw more then that chide out, the Akalak rounded the main house. Konrath was a picture of masculinity if ever there was one, and Loranna herself couldn't say that she had never admired the muscled sleekness of his form, she could even get past the blueness of his skin. However the entire house was a little odd, and Loranna did not do odd well.

"Lorenzo." She greeted him cooly, as if there wasn't a body laying mutilated at her feet..several feet away really she really didn't want her slippers stained. "Thank you for coming.." Her eyes slid toward the barbarian with him, one brow raising but she didn't speak of him. "Look! Look what someone did." When she pointed to poor Tuthron's body, her voice rose to match her gestures, to indicate just how serious of an affront this really was.

"Loranna." The Akalak greeted with equal coolness, though his pale eyes shifted downwards to Verena and tilted his head in greeting towards her. "Ms. Verena I believe? Have you looked over the body?" Lorenzo moved around both Loranna, barely giving her a second glance, and squatted easily beside the younger Lorak, the one that was less likely to open his cheek with her nails should he say something that she didn't like.

"Slave, could have been anything really. Perhaps a dispute amongst slaves, you know they are little better then dogs when they get on a tear about something. Likely tear each other's throats out as much as anyone else." His hand reached out and pushed the body over on it's side. The back and legs of the body was already bloating and turning a purplish color as what blood remained in his body started to pool below. "Killed else where I should say, do you agree Verena? Which means that likely it might not be just a dispute among slaves." One finger rose to scratch his nose, before he stood and began to walk backwards. His hand beckoned toward his bodyguard, "My tracking skills are ...some what lacking, but this looks like a drag trail here.."
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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Kalesserimamoru on December 22nd, 2013, 7:09 am

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Mamoru, or Reno as he called himself while morphed into this fold, walked just behind the Magistrate. Both men were huge and he didn't think the Akalak would need him to walk in front of him. One look at this man and some might wonder if he could stop arrows with his body alone. The trickster new something of the sort, and the hard scales of the Dhani could withstand normal arrows that hadn't been treated or refined in anyway.

To the business of their trip, the Magistrate had been called to investigate the death of a slave. Not that the huge Akalak needed it, but Mamoru was there as muscle and protection either way. During his time as guard in the nest he had done a bit of investigating himself which he hoped could lend aid in what they had to do now. The smell of blood was in the air around the property, so much so that he could taste it even in his human form.

They rounded the house and he first took notice of the people standing around. They were all small, frail looking with not a mark on them. These weren't warriors, or mercenaries, they were the coddled children of the city, the Dynasty. It probably wasn't a good idea for him to look upon them for long, but he couldn't help it. Their smooth alabaster skin, and fresh honeyed scents tugged at his eternal hunger and caused his mouth to water. He could eat them all now, and not one would have been fast enough to escape.

To put his hunger at ease, or at least his mind, Mamoru concentrated on the body they were there to inspect. The smell of blood was a bit more present and the smell of rotting flesh. He had no idea what all had been done to the man, or how long he had been laying there but this kill wasn't fresh. It was gruesome, however for him, in a fashion that wasn't as much on a disturbing level, but one of silent critique. In truth he had done worse to many in the jungle and saw just as horffic things done by others there also. But his job here wasn't to admire, he was simply the guard and inspector for the Magistrate.

For the moment he stood silent and watched the scene unfold. He noticed the brand had been peeled from the man's face as well as the many cuts across his body from the torture he must have endured. When the Magistrate deduced that the man had been killed else where, he had to concur. This hadn't been a quick and clean kill, it was brutal and personal, and yet there was no blood splatter. He tilted his head to the grass and found the point where Lorenzo saw drag marks. "I'll see where it leads." he spoke in a deep husky voice and started to follow the trail.


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Death of a Slave [Modded Thread]

Postby Verena Lorak on December 23rd, 2013, 9:46 am

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The Konrath towered over and Verena couldn't help but look away uncomfortably. The Dynasties consisted of mostly humans, but the Konraths were certainly not - in addition to the Rajors and a few of the Zulacas. Most of them had lived hundreds of years and Verena could not help marveling at how their body works. No one seemed to have figured out what allowed several races to live as long as they did. Akalaks in particular were interesting as to their single-sex race and blue skin.

Her thoughts were forced back to the task at hand when Lorenzo knelt down next to her. Oddly enough, most of his attention was directed to her instead of the fuming Head of Lorak. At least, he was asking her about something she could understand well enough. "The blood is not nearly enough to assume that he was killed right here. Someone would've heard or seen something. He must have been dead for some time before being moved."

When Lorenzo moved the body, Verena saw that her suspicion was confirmed. "Lividity," said Verena under her breath. Gravity had already taken its toll and the blood had found its way to the bottom of the body. It suggested that the heart was not pumping and the vessels had lost their pressure to keep the blood where they belonged. With death, the blood stayed liquid and will refuse to clot, thus making it easily flow wherever gravity told them to.

She wasn't quite sure how Lorenzo and Lorana would react, so she stayed silent, letting her thoughts stray to various possibilities. Perhaps, they had some more ideas to what had happened.

In the end, she was all too eager to start moving. Merely staring at a corpse, hoping it could tell them something was no use. It seemed no one here was nearly skilled enough to figure out exactly what had happened. Deciding that there was nothing more she could know from the body, Verena straightened. It was just then she noticed the chill in the air, skimming the surface of her skin. In the rush of getting outside, she had worn nothing but a thin nightgown and a silk robe.

Without bothering to excuse herself, she followed the trail too - probably seeming impertinent to both of the Heads, but she didn't realize it as usual. The dragmarks was not particularly hard to see, but it made little sense. The body that was dumped there carried little to no clue of the murderer - which mean they had taken careful precautions. Yet, they did not bother to cover up their tracks? It would seem uncharacteristically sloppy. What does it mean?


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