Hasir followed Ceralyne, with Inigo walking reluctantly behind them, back to the castle exterior where she turned left and entered a rather derelict funeral home with crooked-looking wood paneling and fade green gothic wallpaper. The elf ignored this whereas the Argonian and the khajiit remarked on this quite disturbedly.
Hasir noticed how, atop the wooden stairs, stood an immaculate wooden table with a complete set of alchemical apparati laid out meticulously on it - almost as if the owner had left in a hurry due to some ghost chasing him. Hasir saw in his mindd's eye the previous owner, the underking presumably, chased out of the funeral parlor by his ex-lover who he'd killed over some dispute. The underking, Hasir surmized, fully formed and fleshy though he may've been, deserted his prized stash of alchemical ingredients and alchemy gear. He further deduced this line of reasoning by the rather thick layer of dust and cobwebs enveloping the set.
Hasir looked from the elf, brushing off dust from a rather ornate mantle to a collection of books existing in dusty jackets.
"Inigo, do you know why Ceralyne led us here?" He said running his scaly hands along a row of books.
Inigo's eyess darting uncomfortably around the room. He had a feeling there was a lingering presence.
"I dunno, my friend but I think we should leave immediately." He said, his voice trembling with fear.
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