At the top of the stairs is a small bedroom: a nest of blankets in one corner, a window above the bed, and a wash stand against the far wall. A chest stands near the door.

Subsequently, Grenada makes his way down to the cellar below. His first thought is to look for torches along the wall since he doesn't know how well lit the target area is. He continues along down the stairs to the cellar aimlessly. Wondering how long these stairs are, he moves quickly down them and after a brief period of time, he reaches the basement. 'This must be the cellar...' He thinks to himself before he turns his head from side to side, moving up and down trying to make out anything of use in the initial scan of what's visible in the cellar. He is alert, his senses wanting to engorge all available information ranging from smells to sounds.

Julian glances down at the chest as his foot happens to hit it as he enters the room. He smiles widely at the thought of what might be inside. He kneels down on what he thinks his wooden floor paneling. His hands glide across the frame of the chest as they search for the handle. He sighs deeply as his hands, now shaking with excitement, are latched on to the handle. The Zora then slowly opens the chest as he savors the moment but also fearing that all he'll find his clothing.

Basement: You find yourself amidst a mass of barrels and boxes. Light streams through a small window high up on the south wall. The air is redolent with the smell of dust and the spicy smell of decay. You can hear a quiet *squeak* to your left, behind a barrel.

Bedroom: (DU NU NU NAA…?) The chest appears to contain only clothes….

"Damn it!" Julian yells as he slams the chest closed again and begins to pace around the room looking for something that will give him a clue as to why someone would kill the woman. He throws the nest of clothes around in his petty attempt to search. "Hey Grenada, have you found anything!" Julian yells out, hoping that his Deku friend has had better luck.

Your rampage through the bedding turns up nothing...

The unpleasant smells grate on the Deku's nerves, nearly filling his lungs to the choking point. A squeak behind the barrels to the left draws Grenada's attention from the scents, and causes him to ignore Julian's request for the time being. Calmly he walks over to it, and slowly peers around the wooden cylinder, his hands loosely on the object feigning a sense of support.

There is something about a large gossiping crowd and an official yelling that, “There actually nothing to see and move along,” to spur the curiosity. What is it about the spirit that just wants to go where it is not allowed? The Lovers enter the crowd after a day of methodical shopping and begin to politely move forward. She is in an emerald green satin dress, cut close with a high neck that spills lace and an oval opening in the bodice; finally a black belt encompasses her waist. He is wearing soft traveling leathers, stained a dark brown only a few shades darker then his skin, finely tooled with leaping jaguars and scrollwork. A hand moves on a jaw line, another guides the small of the back; foreheads pressed together and sweet-nothings whispered. Giggles erupt from the pair despite the morose situation and quiet questions are posed to the masses. “What has happened?” “Did anyone see anything?” “Who was living here?” “Who protects the people?” “Odd things been going on?” “Where did you get that dress?” “Who would do such a thing?” “Awful times these are, when such horrible things happen, aren’t they?” “Has anything suspicious been going on at this house?” Questions asked, repeated, reworded and gathered. Finally, with noses now upturned in a more noble position they stride purposely forward toward the door. With a curt nod, a look of expectation of soon-to-be-saluting guardsmen, and a “G’day Corpral.” they do not waver as they approach.

Basement:
Behind the barrel there is...A RAT! with a squeak of surprise it darts into a small hole in the wall leaving behind it a red thread...

Outside:
Passing through the crowd you can hear answers flowing among the questions:

A Girl's been MURDERED! I saw someone! He was a barechested man! No he wasn's he was dressed in the finest clothes! No, no, I saw him he was wearing a mask! Don't listen to these fools, He was dressed simply, in blacks. A young girl lived here, very pretty, brown hair, big grey eyes, crying shame. The Guard is supposed to put a stop to this sort of thing! Why do we pay our taxes if Knobs and his lot are just gonna direct traffic. I saw man wandering these streets recently, been leaving horrible bits of poetry scratched on the walls and such. I hear she had a jealous boyfriend who heard about her goin' 'round kissing strange men. Horrible times these are. Work of Ganon 'imslef. No, no, she was a sweet girl. Never done nuthin' to nobody!

Seeing the two pass ,The guards, used to this kind of behavior from nobility salute smartly and stand aside, Knobby mutters something about "nobelis oblijay..."

OOC: phantompigcollector, take it easy, this is a crime scene, not a mob grind. Think carefully, and move slowly.

OOC: I knew it!

IC: The mercenary spits a curse in Deku, before approaching the string. Not thinking twice, he quickly snatches it in case it'd matter at all. He made a note in his mind of how when searching you can find the stupidest things have possible value. Leave nothing behind, nothing at all. He turns around and begins walking toward the other side of the cellar. Maybe something useful will permit him the glory of its discovery.

Julian takes a deep breathe. The smells of the room entering through his nostrils. A long sigh is let out as he attempts to calm himself down. The Zora's shoulders soften and ease down.
'Now Julian, what would I do if i wanted to hide my tracks?' Julian thinks to himself. "Hmm."
Julian paces around the room as his left hand massages his brow. He kneels again in front of the chest. He opens it and is welcomed by the taunting clothing that lays before him. He carefully begins to inspect the interior of the chest while removing the parcels of clothing and placing them in a neat stack beside his leg.

OOC:Sorry, my character will try to refrain from throwing things around.

OOC: now your thinking Julian. But don't change your behavior if it goes against character, always play in character. But you should be more clever about your ranting and raving. Grenada, What did you know?


Narration: bedroom: Underneath the clothes you find a a book... with all the pages torn out?! The empty shell of the covers falls open revealing a few scant shreds of paper, still clinging to the spine. One in particular catches your interest, still having a few words attached to it:

Smiled sw...
rosemary...
courage...

basement:
The thread is about a span long and very, very fine, smooth and delicate; you could break it with a short tug. Your perusal of the room brings you beneath the window near the top of the cellar, buttery light streaming though it to illuminate a mass of knick-nacks and junk...

OOC: That it was going to be a rat or something like that.

IC: Grenada takes a disgusted look at the nick-knacks and junk. Kneeling down, he begins digging through it, carefully placing the objects in two piles - objects of value and useless junk - according to the search for clues.

With a sob and gasp of the deepest sorrow The Lovers rush to the body of the fallen girl. Careful not to step in any of the gore surrounding the body, dress and cloak rising with the soft rustle of dry leaves on the cobblestones, The Lovers crouch over the body. A hand drifts over the body a mere breath away, as though brushing hair off of the face of the victim girl. A second acts as though it is holding her hand in the comfort of a parent tending to a sickly child, confident reassuring, and very real.

Are not bodies so very interesting? There is horror at seeing such things, then strange curiosity at morbid scenes. Fear of the brute force of the truth that all are mortal, and all will feed the worms and trees. A fresh rush of the zeal for life, and a sorrow that life is also as fragile as butterfly wandering through the fall leaves. Wonder at the complex design of life and doubt about what happens after the last mechanics wind down. Is there purpose or just struggle? Yes, bodies are incredibly exciting.

The diligent search of body area begins. First an over look of the body. Orientation of how it is laying in the room. What clothes are she wearing, is there any jewelry of make-up, and how did it appear her hair was done before the violence? How much blood is there around her? Shoe prints or other clues in the gore; how coagulated is the blood? Next a closer look at the body. Are there large areas where the beating seems to be concentrated? Are there cuts on her palms or skin under the fingernails? How stiff is the body? What is the state of her face, grimacing in horror and pain, or peaceful as though she died before the violence?

OCC: Sorry for the question paragraph; I couldn’t think of a good RP way of putting it in that wouldn’t take forever. Posts = exp and rupees… hmmm maybe I should have.

Main room: The woman lies sprawled on her back, feet towards the door. She appears to be dressed in a plain woolen dress, with out any jewelry; as for makeup if there was any the blood appears to have washed it away. There are tracks of bare feet through the blood that surrounds her in a wide splash at least two strides across. The beating seems to cover her whole body evenly and a look of shock lies on her features.

Basement: Knick-knack and dust collectors, there doesn't appear to be anything here...