Brandy pouted as Sofia crushed her dreams with cruel reality when she demonstrated how, in fact, an arrow-head could [i][b]not[/b][/i] be used as a lockpick to open doors. Her ears stood almost straight up, like those on a bunny, when Alice unleashed the wrath of luminence upon the padlock via her new, om-the-spot, alchemical substance of [b]DOOM[/b]. And, luckily for the satyr, who was noq squatting down over the melted metal ex-lock, she was stopped by Alice's warning about not touching the damn thing before she could poke the smoldering remains out of curiosity, recoiling in abject fear of the sheer terror of imagening one of her delicate and exquisite fingers being melted off like warmed butter. "W-well! Anyways, good job, Al!" Brandy finally stated, having now stood back up and brushed the vivid imagery of de-fingering from her mind. "Let's head inside and find the bad guy! Or gal. Or thing. We hafta avenge that boner-guy!" She exclaimed, pumping her fist into the air, having seemingly or conveniently forgotten that said bony man met his demise at [i]her[/i] own hand rather than that of some nefarious mastermind. Pushing the vaulted metal door open, Brandy was the first to enter the mausoleum. Doing so also caused her to start coughing and sneezing and shaking her head like a dog trying to dry its coat after getting wet. The interior of the tiny crypt-hut was... Dusty... To say the least. Layer upon layer of caked, ancient and dry-as-phuck dust lay prevalent all about. On the floor, walls, cracks of the walls, atop the sarcophagi, the statue at the very back and the memorial urns on the concaved and vaulted shelf-indentations on the walls. After having sputtered and frantically brushed her face and head free from the initial onslaught of dust, the satyr turned to her two allies still outside the door. "This place sucks! Whoever's in charge of keeping things clean is a total slacker. Jeez, it's so dusty and moldy and miserable, who'd ever wanna be dead in an awful place like this!?" She whined, outraged at having been dirtied by the dirty and dank locale. As she continued to bemoan the crappy conditions of the crypt, Brandy wasn't exactly paying attention to her surroundings. Apart from a pair of large, lying stone sarcophagi at the center of the room inside, there was also a statue off to the very back - probably a statue of some protective god or something of the departed. There were a total of eight urns, four on one wall and four on the other, mirror almost to a T. There were wall-sconces, but they weren't lit, so the only light that came into the place was from the now-open doorway. Other than this, the place was rather dull - tiled stone floor, brickworkk walls, bricked ceiling amd apart form the pots made of - what seemed to be - brass, everything else was just grey. Obviously, the more important detail of course, was that there didn't seem to be anyone or anything inside the mausoleum. No person or creature of the darkness, no wicked or manically laughing lunatic who praised them for discovering their contrived plot.. Just a dusty, empty room. Surely there had to be [i]something[/i] inside though? Othwerwise, Alice's death magic-detection-sludge would have had to be classed as faulty! But that didn't seem like it was very likely. No, more likely was that there was more to this drab place than one could first see. After having finished the ramblings, the tanned and buxom goat-girl proceeded to, carelessly, march straight into the center of the cryptorium and start touching [i][b]absolutely everything[/b][/i] with [b][i]zero[/i][/b] regard for whoever was laid to rest in either urn or large stone coffin. Poking and smudging and smelling and sneezing-on... Yup... No vvampire-sneezes either. Full-on, non-covering-the-mouth sneezes... Any man of the cloth who saw this would likely have branded her a blasphemous and heretical sacrilege on two legs for the blatant disrespect towards the deceased. "So, uh... Al, Sofers? What're we 'spose to be looking for in here? i don't see anyone evil around..."