Fantaisie Noir (D&D5e)

[Mechanical]

Reddia took in the corpse. Her beautiful features scrunched slightly in disgust. She wasn't squeamish, but she certainly didn't want to see a man with a 50% discount on hats in the future.

"One way to cure sleepwalking," she muttered, softly padding into the room. She returned her revolver to its hidden location and retrieved a pair of thin gloves from the same location, pulling them on. No sense leaving fingerprints.

She glanced at the body, though she didn't really have the training to determine how old a corpse was. Rather than touching it, she prowled around to the unopened door - probably a bathroom or something. She eased the handle down and opened it slowly and quietly, just to make sure there was nothing hiding inside the apartment still.

 

[Connersmish]

The sudden crash of the door being broken down by the far larger woman set the young Tiefling on edge, a noise unpleasantly familiar to many who called the lower wards of the city home. While only seconds ticked by, the silence which echoed from within the room seemed to stretch time to an almost unbearable degree. Was the killer inside? Had they taken down the detective without a sound? Were they next? Her mind raced with these and a thousand questions like them until finally the Half-Orc returned in the shadow of the doorway, and without a word beckoned her and the others inside.

The first thing that struck her was the odour of rot which clung to the air. The scent of putrefying flesh eliciting a small gag from the performer and almost stopped her in her tracks, the smell a dead give away as to what awaited her inside. Next to hit home was the apartment itself, the spartan furnishings and layout almost eerily familiar to her, leaving her as to no doubt that someone from the military had called this place home. Memories of the great war often haunted those that had fought it, and she had known a soldier long enough to know how they lived. Finally was the body of the former owner, the crimson mess from a gunshot and service revolver clasped tightly in his lifeless hand a grim vision of a fear come to life, a potential path she feared Roy might also take one day. And a fear that had led her to hiding his ammunition on more than one occasion.

As the others went about their business, Mercy joined the veteran in looking over the record player who's dirge had captivated her from outside, the music now winding down as it's solemn tune began to fade. She also turned her attentions to searching the apartment for anything that the soldier had kept hidden, basing her search from how Roy would try to keep his own demons locked away from others sight. A false bottom in a drawer which contained his medals, the photo of people he would never name hidden between the pages of a book… the war caused many scars, and it seemed that no two people were affected in the same way. But with a little luck, perhaps she would find something to show that veterans would share more than a simple style of furniture arrangement. And hopefully something that would help them find who they had come here to find.

Spoiler: Investigation Roll

Search the apartment for anything which might be hidden away, .