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Description
Autumn decent upon the drippy and cool city of Nem, the lights of which had difficulty piercing through the thick fog that never seemed to subside. A slender man in his late twenties, climbed the marble steps of an unassuming library, and made for the librarian in a hurry. He withdrew his gloves and cleaned his gold rimmed glasses. She knew him, far more well than he cared, but he depended upon her loyalty and resources. The woman shut a thick text in which she had been writing.

She asked in a hushed voice, “So? What did you find about the killer, Lock?”

Lock scratched his eyebrow, “The young maiden was clawed to ribbons, I followed the blood trail Detective Miller discovered, but the trail isn’t long, too little blood was on the murderer. It disappears into the North District. I’ll go there first light. Until then, I recovered this lavabell. It was near the corpse. The officers payed it no mind, but I wanted to check any texts on herbalism and alchemy, Margaret.”

“Of course dear,” she pressed a button under her desk, and the back wall slid open revealing a staircase leading beneath the earth. Lock traipsed down the stairs dispensing with his overcoat, and pulling his hair free from it’s tie. He turned on the lights illuminating a windowless research center. He tiredly fetched a kettle, tea leaves and made for the stove. He needed caffeine, enough for a few more hours. When the kettle whistled, Margaret Pond came to him with several texts. “I pulled select volumes. It’s been a while since I’ve looked in them for reference. Naria is the alchemist after all.

*****

Lock took the books eagerly, forgetting the whining kettle. He flipped open the text on herbalism and scanned the book for lavabell. He begged Margaret, “Please, might you finish the tea?” He returned to the text. Lavabell uses, detoxification, generates warmth even removed from the root, oil extract can be used in cooking. He turned through pages. He stopped, the steam of his black tea drew him away. He gulped it down, and burned the roof of his mouth. Margaret shook her head unsurprised.

She asked leaning over, “Any luck then ?”

Lock pointed to a passage, in using lavabell for detoxification, if the process isn’t done correctly the oils of the plant can cause poisoning. Though, not lethal on its own.” He scanned further, if it’s boiled with mandrake, sage, and pale root, it can cause hallucinations.”

He pondered, “that doesn’t help the case.. maybe it was nothing. Doesn’t help explain the giant gashes on the victim." He asked the librarian, "What about records of lycans? Anything in recent history?"

Margaret collected his empty cup, "No lycan has attacked Nem in recorded history. Sightings are usually documented eastern of here, near places like Delbin, and Twilton, but I haven't corresponded with Callison, nor Glass in a little over a month." She pondered for a moment. Lock asked her if she was alright. Margaret pouted, "I just realized I should send them both letters, it's a bit odd they haven't been keeping up. We usually send updates. I have a log of gnome sightings that I know Glass will be interested in."

Just into daybreak, Lock knocked on Detective Miller's office door. A muffled voice beckoned him inside. The office was cramped, stacks of papers, folders and books populated the weakly lit room. Lock knew Detective Miller had a spot for everything, even still it made Lock's head spin. Just a little bit of organizing that makes sense... put some stuff away, man. Detective Miller greeted Lock with coffee, "You're earlier than I expected."

Lock nodded to his attire, "you haven't changed, is it the case you showed me that's bothering you?"

Miller waved a hand, "Oh, well, sort of, but, The Mrs and I are... unimportant. Did you discover anything yourself?"

"A dead-end I'm afraid, at least I believe. I found loose lavabell around where the woman lay. It can be used for poisons, cooking and hallucinations."

Miller pondered, "Yeah, could the killer have drugged her? But, what sort of thing that has talons that size be doing mixing poisons ?”

"It's the victim I'm considering. Fancy a trip to the morgue?"

The two traipsed down into the cold depths of the dungeons. Doctor Carlin greeted them, "Evening."

"Morning." Lock corrected her.

Doctor Carlin shook her head, "That's what I meant. Detective Miller? You here to see Lamb's body?"

Carlin took them into a wide room filled with chambers for the dead. Victoria Lamb lay on a slab. "I'm preparing her for an autopsy per the captain's wishes."

Lock pointed to her, "Mind if I take a quick look?" After Miller nodded to Carlin, Lock made for her corpse. He pulled out a magnifying glass and stared down at her finger nails. Dirt underneath them, plant matter. With tweezers he retrieved some of the plant, the color of the still warm petals was undeniable. Lavabell. He checked the rest of her but found nothing else of note. He asked Detective Miller, "what do you know of Ms. Lamb? Rich?"

"Lamb is from a lower middle-class family. Her dad works as a trader, her mum tends to her younger siblings. Dunno much about Victoria, prolly good to ask her parents."

Lock nodded, "Coming along, Detective?"
"Actually. I have a few cases. I'll be in my office back at the station if you find out anything."

Description
Autumn decent upon the drippy and cool city of Nem, the lights of which had difficulty piercing through the thick fog that never seemed to subside. A slender man in his late twenties, climbed the marble steps of an unassuming library, and made for the librarian in a hurry. He withdrew his gloves and cleaned his gold rimmed glasses. She knew him, far more well than he cared, but he depended upon her loyalty and resources. The woman shut a thick text in which she had been writing.

She asked in a hushed voice, “So? What did you find about the killer, Lock?”

Lock scratched his eyebrow, “The young maiden was clawed to ribbons, I followed the blood trail Detective Miller discovered, but the trail isn’t long, too little blood was on the murderer. It disappears into the North District. I’ll go there first light. Until then, I recovered this lavabell. It was near the corpse. The officers payed it no mind, but I wanted to check any texts on herbalism and alchemy, Margaret.”

“Of course dear,” she pressed a button under her desk, and the back wall slid open revealing a staircase leading beneath the earth. Lock traipsed down the stairs dispensing with his overcoat, and pulling his hair free from it’s tie. He turned on the lights illuminating a windowless research center. He tiredly fetched a kettle, tea leaves and made for the stove. He needed caffeine, enough for a few more hours. When the kettle whistled, Margaret Pond came to him with several texts. “I pulled select volumes. It’s been a while since I’ve looked in them for reference. Naria is the alchemist after all.

*****

Lock took the books eagerly, forgetting the whining kettle. He flipped open the text on herbalism and scanned the book for lavabell. He begged Margaret, “Please, might you finish the tea?” He returned to the text. Lavabell uses, detoxification, generates warmth even removed from the root, oil extract can be used in cooking. He turned through pages. He stopped, the steam of his black tea drew him away. He gulped it down, and burned the roof of his mouth. Margaret shook her head unsurprised.

She asked leaning over, “Any luck then ?”

Lock pointed to a passage, in using lavabell for detoxification, if the process isn’t done correctly the oils of the plant can cause poisoning. Though, not lethal on its own.” He scanned further, if it’s boiled with mandrake, sage, and pale root, it can cause hallucinations.”

He pondered, “that doesn’t help the case.. maybe it was nothing. Doesn’t help explain the giant gashes on the victim." He asked the librarian, "What about records of lycans? Anything in recent history?"

Margaret collected his empty cup, "No lycan has attacked Nem in recorded history. Sightings are usually documented eastern of here, near places like Delbin, and Twilton, but I haven't corresponded with Callison, nor Glass in a little over a month." She pondered for a moment. Lock asked her if she was alright. Margaret pouted, "I just realized I should send them both letters, it's a bit odd they haven't been keeping up. We usually send updates. I have a log of gnome sightings that I know Glass will be interested in."

Just into daybreak, Lock knocked on Detective Miller's office door. A muffled voice beckoned him inside. The office was cramped, stacks of papers, folders and books populated the weakly lit room. Lock knew Detective Miller had a spot for everything, even still it made Lock's head spin. Just a little bit of organizing that makes sense... put some stuff away, man. Detective Miller greeted Lock with coffee, "You're earlier than I expected."

Lock nodded to his attire, "you haven't changed, is it the case you showed me that's bothering you?"

Miller waved a hand, "Oh, well, sort of, but, The Mrs and I are... unimportant. Did you discover anything yourself?"

"A dead-end I'm afraid, at least I believe. I found loose lavabell around where the woman lay. It can be used for poisons, cooking and hallucinations."

Miller pondered, "Yeah, could the killer have drugged her? But, what sort of thing that has talons that size be doing mixing poisons ?”

"It's the victim I'm considering. Fancy a trip to the morgue?"

The two traipsed down into the cold depths of the dungeons. Doctor Carlin greeted them, "Evening."

"Morning." Lock corrected her.

Doctor Carlin shook her head, "That's what I meant. Detective Miller? You here to see Lamb's body?"

Carlin took them into a wide room filled with chambers for the dead. Victoria Lamb lay on a slab. "I'm preparing her for an autopsy per the captain's wishes."

Lock pointed to her, "Mind if I take a quick look?" After Miller nodded to Carlin, Lock made for her corpse. He pulled out a magnifying glass and stared down at her finger nails. Dirt underneath them, plant matter. With tweezers he retrieved some of the plant, the color of the still warm petals was undeniable. Lavabell. He checked the rest of her but found nothing else of note. He asked Detective Miller, "what do you know of Ms. Lamb? Rich?"

"Lamb is from a lower middle-class family. Her dad works as a trader, her mum tends to her younger siblings. Dunno much about Victoria, prolly good to ask her parents."

Lock nodded, "Coming along, Detective?"
"Actually. I have a few cases. I'll be in my office back at the station if you find out anything."