This would be the third time. At this point, Klaus wasn't even trying to pretend he's doing serious work there. He was incredibly intrigued what other weird finds would a spell produce. Of course, he wouldn't dream of abandoning his actual duties for this lark, the events were already in motion for some genuine spying on the ever so elusive lady Gillespie. Given what his contacts had told him, she had successfully "disappeared" an assassin sent from Alamut. Which, well, was something very remarkable. Those fellows were exceptionally well trained, and managing to ambush one without anyone being wiser of it? A LOT of skill and secrets had to be involved. Honestly, he had no clue what actually happened to the assassin in question, the extent of his data was "ventured to case the Academy and disappeared". Which means Old Man probably didn't know much more on his Mountain. Or maybe even this much.

He himself had made a resolution to avoid any personal contacts. Lady Gillespie was proving herself to be a ruthless and cunning operator, someone possibly on his own level. Despite himself, Klaus felt some excitement about this. Spycraft was not for lily-livered nor for stupid. A proper mix of cleverness, bravery, cunning, audacity and ruthlessness was something he truly valued in his subordinates and respected in his opponents. His previous instance was misled by the guise of effete noble and paid dearly for it. Klaus rubbed his neck absentmindedly as he recalled the supremely morbid examination of his own severed head. It was not as preserved as he would have liked, prince Hiram for all his merits was not a trained inquisitor nor was he a trained undertaker and thus did not do more than just place the head into an ice chest. Which admittedly helped, but putting it under stasis would be even better. Anyway, while the finer traces have had been erased by mana dissipation and early decomposition, he was able to take a fairly decent plaster of the cut. And that plaster was very interesting. His previous instance was not beheaded with a blade, as it was surmised. Rather, if he read the cuts right, it was done with some sort of serrated pair of blades. Something like giant scissors. Or crab claw. Self-transformation? Exotic weapon? Summons?

So, he was playing the long game here. His contact at Konistan's trade house would cause some minor altercation, get Vole Konistan to step in as arbitrator. Smarmy bastard would love that, he operated on the favors owed and blackmail first and foremost. Draw the target in, get them involved, then blackmail the hell out of them. Tried and true scheme. And this time, if things go sideways, it's Konistan who's going to get beheaded.

Win-win. Today, he was doing to do something special, though. His people had managed to find a two-headed dandelion by accident. Not too important, dandelions were low-level air and light foci, and therefore not particularly sought after, but it was useful in scrying spell, and two-headed flower could produce some interesting results. He was not quite sure what exactly would happen, but he was looking forward to it.

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...Well. Apparently, using two-headed dandelion produced TWO distinct objects. In essence, scrying twice for the effort of one spell. Useful data, that. He jotted down the observation and then went ahead with examining what he got back. Item number one was... deliciously smelling, actually. Klaus swallowed, his mouth suddenly filling with saliva as the smell reminded him of missed lunch. It was a loaf of bread. Regular, ordinary, freshly baked loaf. Maybe from that bakery she opened recently. Giving it a bit of a poke with diagnostic spells did not show anything out of order. It was bread. With walnuts. Walnut bread. Klaus looked left. Right. On the table again. Sighed. "Geter farshiltn es! Di mekhasheyfe iz verzwickt." - he muttered as he gave in and started stuffing his face. It went surprisingly well with a bit of wine he had left over in the alcove.

Thus fortified, he examined the second item. In a way, he was slightly glad he gave in and ate the bread first. The bloody hammer was distinctly unappetizing. Picking it up gingerly, he hit the hammer with his usual bevy of detection spells. The hammer itself was nothing special. Oak handle, forged iron head. The blood was much more interesting. According to his examination, the blood was several days old. And yet, still wet. Curious. He took a piece of rag and carefully wiped the end of the hammer. But while he was confident that he left the end clean, pulling the rag away revealed it to be just as bloody as it was, in spite of rag soaking up a good deal of it. Several bloodied rags later, Klaus had set the hammer aside and focused a much more comprehensive bevy of investigative spells on it. Ohohoh, how curious. This hammer was used to commit a senseless murder. The bloodiness is simply an expression of its inherent foulness. Klaus could not tell who was murdered with it, but he could be entirely certain that the murder was committed for the sake of murder. Very rare, that. People usually needed more reason to kill than just a desire to see a dead body.

Since there were no good traces otherwise, he set the hammer aside after a while, and called in a servant. While he did not expect any gains from this lark, he would not look a gift horse in the mouth, and a minor dark artifact was a respectable gain for a spell cast to tickle one's curiosity. He'd have to think on the possible uses of this find, too. It had obvious merits as an anti-vampire tool. Any vampire who had a stake hammered in them with this will not be coming back, no matter what. For that matter, simply nailing a coffin shut with this hammer would deny it to vampire forevermore, even if he were to find living underlings to pry it open. Metaphysical junctions were interesting like this. And, of course, there were always political uses for things like these. He'd have to think about it.