If Lowe thought there was anything strange about a Level 67 High Priestess residing in a thoroughly disreputable part of the undercity, he did not feel it was really his place to comment. After all, considering his own current accommodation, there was a whole aphorism concerning people-in-glass-houses-not-raining-down-meteorites thing going on.

Indeed, compared to the place he'd called home for the past year, Gianna d'Avec's residence was a veritable palace.

The priests, Hiwalk and Setort, were not shy about expressing their disapproval of Gianna d'Avec's decision to live outside the Temple. Whether it was due to the perceived disrespect towards Gravalk or their own inability to locate her house, Lowe couldn't be certain. But he suspected it was a healthy dose of both.

Even he was finding it somewhat difficult to reconcile the sheer power that the woman had at her fingertips with the sad street down which he now walked. If you could literally cause the world to quake with the force of your displeasure, it seemed pretty unlikely you'd feel living in this place was an appropriate environment.

Lowe stopped before an emerald green door and looked up at the three stories of d'Avec's home. Sure, it was in a better state of repair than most of its neighbours, but there was absolutely about this place to suggest, until that morning, its occupant was poised to become the second most powerful being in the whole of Soar.

Interestingly, though, the moment he had exited the portal onto this part of the street, he had felt the push of at least a dozen passive dissuasion Skills focus in on him. At least one was strong enough to immediately bring him out in hives, and if he hadn't spent his entire professional life being told to 'fuck off' by professionals, he could imagine it would have been difficult to force his way to the front door.

The High Priestess had taken her privacy seriously and done what she could to convince people not to take too much interest in the place that she called home.

Lowe admired the subtlety she had shown in this. He doubted anyone would have made an issue of it if she had gone for more . . . permanent solutions to prying eyes. For example, he knew of one minor celebrity who had set up a nasty version of Acid Bath to explode over anyone who so much as pressed her doorbell. Although, the cynic in Lowe thought that this was probably less about privacy and more about seeking a way to upgrade from 'minor' to 'major' starlet.

Nevertheless, whatever this house might lack in grandeur, it certainly was making up for it in 'nothing to see here, move right along' energy.

Considering why he was here, Lowe found that pretty interesting.

He was about to rap his knuckles on the door when it opened of its own accord an elderly, moist-eyed woman was looking out at him.

"Yes?" The woman - Lowe glanced upwards and read the woman's name and Class - peered suspiciously at time. "We don't trade at the door here. Piss off before the Anti-Hawker Skills really kick in." She moved to close the door in his face,

"Mylaf, is it? I'm Inspector Lowe from the Security Service. Could I step inside for a moment, please?"

The woman raised her hands to her mouth, and tears poured from her eyes. "I knew it. I just knew it. Something's happened, hasn't it?"

Lowe felt the intensity of the dissuasion Skills kick up another notch as if in response to Mylaf's distress. He had a tricky little ring in his possession that would make him utterly immune to any such effects, but he didn't like to use it over much. In his experience, there were advantages to be found in people underestimating him - particularly when dealing with the highly Classed - and he only flashed his more exotic treasures around when the chips were really down.

You never knew who was watching.

"Perhaps we should talk inside?"

Mylaf stepped aside and let Lowe slip past her. The almost overwhelming pressure of a palpable sense of doom receded as soon as the door was shut behind them. Lowe almost gasped in pleasure when the weight of it lifted off him. Those were some expensive passive charms on this building. That was much more in keeping with what he expected from someone of d'Avec's standing.

"Is there anybody in the house, Mylaf? Do you mind if I call you by your first name?" Lowe said as he moved, as indicated by the housekeeper, through to a large, well-lit sitting room.

"No to both questions, sir. My mistress did not have anyone. Not since her parents . . . died. And I've never been one to stand on ceremony. She's dead, isn't she?"

Lowe sat down in a ridiculously comfortable armchair and regarded the woman steadily. "What makes you think that?"

"She didn't come home last night!" He was somewhat taken aback by the intensity of the woman's wail. Her hands went to her head in an almost hysterical gesture. And then, as if a switch were flicked, she was immediately calm, and an odd glow entered her eyes. "Can I offer you refreshments, Inspector?"

Lowe was reasonably familiar with the Class and wasn't surprised that a woman on the edge of completely losing her shit had chosen to retreat into the rational embrace of her Skills. He assumed she had activated Hostess with the Mostess, which was a standard part of any good build. Considering who this woman served, he thought this would likely be a Rare version of the Skill, maybe even in the Epic tier if d'Avec had thought particularly well of her.

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"I would very much appreciate that, Mylaf. Please produce the most appropriate beverage and sweet confectionary you believe would be suitable for me."

Mylaf nodded, almost mechanically, and a table with a cup of steaming tea and a plate with a slice of Victoria sponge upon it appeared next to Lowe. He motioned for the to sit herself down.

The moment Mylaf was off her feet, the glow vanished from her eyes, and she began crying again. But softer and more under control than before.

"Mylaf, I am sorry to tell you that it would appear your mistress has been murdered. I wish I had better news to share with you."

"I knew it," the whispered over and over again. "Oh, that poor girl."

Lowe waited to see if Mylaf would say anything else, but when she didn't, he pressed onwards. "Can you remember when you last saw the High Priestess?"

"First thing yesterday morning. She always left the house very early, so it was my practice to be up no later than the fifth bell to ensure I could help her with anything she required."

"It is unusual that the High Priestess chose to reside here, isn't it? Most avatars live with the Celestial Temple itself."

"This is her parents' house." The way Mylaf gave that answer suggested there was no more than needed to be said. To Lowe's mind, there were any number of follow-up questions. But, perhaps, now was not the time.

"And did the High Priestess need anything from you yesterday morning?"

"Not yesterday, sir. I have . . . do you understand the nature of my Class?" Mylaf was looking above his head where the absence of his own Class was loud and clear.

Lowe smiled. "I have had some experience with "

Mylaf nodded as if gratified a difficult and potentially awkward explanation had been avoided. "Well, my mistress was quite particular about her food. She had grown up in relative poverty and, I think, saw it as an essential aspect of how changed her life had become that she had access to finer meals."

Lowe nodded along, not quite sure where this was going but happy to let the woman talk. Mylaf saw the confusion in his eyes and smiled, jutting her chin towards the tea and cake at his side.

"Perhaps if you tried your food, you would understand what I'm getting at."

Feeling increasingly nonplussed, Lowe picked up his cup of tea and sipped carefully at the hot beverage. It was a lightly spiced green tea with a bitter taste that he instantly loved. However, the appearance of a notification in the centre of his vision instantly dragged his attention away from his tastebuds.

It was fortunate he was already sitting down.

You have consumed "Spiced Jasmine Ambrosia," a Legendary tea brewed by Mylaf. This drink provides the "Echoes of the Ancients" bonus.

Duration: 47 bells and 59 minutes

Cooldown: Once per lunar cycle.

Effects:

1. Ancestral Wisdom: You gain a significant boost to Intellect and Wisdom, enhancing spell accuracy, magical defence, and problem-solving abilities. This manifests as a +5 increase in Wisdom and Intelligence.

2. Phantom Aid: During battle, spectral ancestors momentarily appear to assist in your attacks and defence. This results in a 20% chance that any attack you make is automatically supported by a spectral force, adding an additional 50% damage or reduction for that instance.

3. Temporal Insight: You gain the ability to see a few seconds into the near future. This foresight manifests in combat and negotiation, allowing you to anticipate an opponent's next move, providing a significant advantage in both avoiding damage and exploiting weaknesses.

4. Legacy's Burden: As a balancing factor, you will feel the weight of your ancestors' unfulfilled quests and ambitions, compelling you to pursue challenging objectives or face internal conflicts about your destiny and legacy. This will drive you to seek out new quests or moral dilemmas that align with the themes of duty and legacy.

Consumption Warning: Due to its potent nature, consuming another dose of 'Spiced Jasmine Ambrosia' before a complete lunar cycle diminishes the positive effects and could induce adverse effects, such as "Ancestor's Disfavour," where you will find yourself haunted by critical failures at crucial moments as your ancestors express their displeasure.

Lowe almost spat out the liquid in shock but considering the potency of the tea he had been provided with, he carefully swallowed it and looked, with alarm, towards Mylaf.

What he had just been granted was an insane boost from a consumable a Level 15 could apparently manifest at will. She smiled at his stunned expression and nodded towards the Victoria sponge.

"You can have both a drink bonus and a food one. Please, take a bite. You look like you will need it."

Cautiously, Lowe picked up the cake and took a bite.

Funnily enough, it wasn't the nicest thing he had ever tasted in his life, but that palled into significance compared to the resulting notification.

You have consumed "Feywild Frosting Delight," a Legendary cake baked by Mylaf. This food provides the "Mirth of the Fey" bonus.

Duration: 11 bells and 59 minutes

Cooldown: Once a fourteenday.

Effects:

5. Euphoric Agility: You experience a surge in physical agility and dexterity, granting you enhanced reflexes and acrobatic skills. This manifests as a +3 increase to Dexterity, improving your ability to dodge attacks, perform intricate manoeuvres, or engage in tasks requiring fine motor skills.

6. Charm of the Wild: The cake's magic makes you irresistibly charming, enhancing your charisma in all interactions. This results in a +4 bonus to Charisma, allowing you to sway crowds, negotiate more effectively, or pacify hostile entities with your enchanting presence.

7. Fey Camouflage: Borrowing from the tricks of the Fey, you gain the ability to blend into natural surroundings almost invisibly, enhancing stealth capabilities. This effect allows you to move unseen through forests, fields, and even dimly lit streets, providing an advantage in both evasion and surprise attacks.

8. Laughter’s Echo: Whenever you laugh, the sound carries an enchanting echo that momentarily disorients all who hear it. This can be used strategically to interrupt enemy spellcasting, cause momentary confusion in ranks, or simply to escape tight situations.

Consumption Warning: Overindulging in Feywild Frosting Delight more than once per fourteendays will lead to "Fey Whimsy," where you may find yourself subject to sudden bursts of laughter or dancing, potentially at inopportune moments, as the wild magic of the Fey overtakes your senses.

This time, Lowe couldn't stop himself from choking out a mouthful of crumbs. Mylaf waved her hand, and the offending food vanished before it even hit the carpet.