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    1. TheFake 10 yrs ago

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Just your neighbourhood coffee fuelled sociopath

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Indrau almost, but not quite, audibly groaned. He had hoped to not encounter the maids here, optimistic that perhaps they might be with Fanilly upon her return. Those hopes were dashed with the scene he walked in on. Unfortunately they noticed he was there before he could make a swift withdrawal, interrupting whatever they were doing just to greet him despite how often he had told them not to.

"I would like to have a light meal to take to my rooms."

If they hadn't been present he would have simply prepared something himself but since they were already there it was better not to. He had already made the blue haired one cry in the past by attempting to help with the cooking. Of the three the pink haired one bothered him the least, if only because she was lazy enough to be content in letting him actually do things for himself.

He walked over to a counted and leaned against it, crossing his arms and letting the cane rest against his thigh.
After a lot of false starts...


He wiped his blade clean on the shirt of a dead bandit before sheathing it. He stood solemnly over the battlefield for a moment and then turned to return to his mount. The well trained warhorse didn't shy from the scent of the blood that cover the front of his coat and his arms to the elbows. It was also disciplined enough to keep its place in formation on the road back to Aimlenn, letting him doze in the saddle.




Indrau winced as he dismounted, leaning on his horse as he pulled his cane from it's spot on the back of his saddle. He handed his mount off to a groom and limped into the main building, practically stabbing at the floor with his cane. The ride back had left him sore and irritable but the one saving grace was that he had caught a few moments of rest. He had once considered renting a cart but his pride wouldn't allow it. Imagine, an elite knight riding to battle in the back of a cart.

In his room he stripped off his vambraces and coat, tossing them onto a table to be cleaned later. Indrau washed his hands in a basin of water and then threw on a fresh shirt. He left his room a handful of minutes later, heading to the kitchens to see if he could acquire some food without any troublesome maids trying to serve him.

@VitaVitaAR


Visiting the crime scene was something that he, as a bodyguard, was personally against. If his mistress had been taking this less seriously he might have suggested that she stay at home with Saturday while he made his own investigation.

So he held his tongue and straightened his posture and moved closer to the door. A thought crossed his mind after mulling over one of Grains earlier remarks.

"Could the killer be attempting some sort of divination of their own with the organs? I think there's little else we could discover through discussion, let's be on our way.


Saint leaned against the wall just inside the door, arms crossed as he stared around the room. Someone unfamiliar with him might confuse his constant focus with a brooding personality.

“I spoke with a friend on the police force, though they know depressingly little about what’s going on.”

He pulled out his phone to reference some notes.

“What he could confirm is that aside from the missing organs, none of the victims had any external injuries. Indeed, until the autopsies they didn’t even have a cause of death. None of the missing organs have turned up either.”

The bodyguard slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“This seems to point to a very high degree of precision in the magic used to remove the organs as well as some motive having to do with them. The police seem to be favouring some sort of satanic motive.”

He didn’t give this last part any intonation to show what he thought of that, but he glanced at Arinne very slightly raised an eyebrow.
sure

Here's mine.


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