It was sad to see a customer getting so disappointed in front of her, but Jesgil had to bare through it. After all, they were putting in so much work already that it would be damaging to do anything to appeal to it. After all, while she was there to help aid the customers, she had an official boss to deal with, and he was the one paying her. Still, Jesgil gave them a bow as she told them, "I am sorry for the disappointing news, but I hope you understand." Raising her head, she stapled on, "With an area like this, you after get a lot of traffic, so it only makes sense to set a time where the staff can clean it up to ensure no one catches anything. Just give us a few hours, and use and use it to your heart's content! Well… half of it." A nervous chuckle escaped her as she scratched her cheek before a thought popped into her head. "Oh! If you do want to experience everything this place has to offer, then you should definitely spend some time in our dining hall. Our chefs cook everything in front of the customers, giving a grand paw-formance while cooking everything to purr-fection." A giggle escaped her after realizing the puns she had, though figured it was now enough to give them clues to what to expect. Who knows: maybe they were chefs who decorated themselves with cat ears.

Still, the woman was keen for more details about the rumors that floating in the hall, having Jesgil respond with a shrug. "Sorry, but I am a temporary here. Not been here long, and the incident was a thing before I was hired. Although…" Thoughts and ideas were floating in her head now. "Tell you what: Keep this a secret with us, but I could let you in to see how things are on our end. My boss may hate me for doing this, but if it opens up the spring, I would say its a win-win for all of us, no?" The two looked at each other for a moment before agreeing to her terms. Smiling, she told them, "Right this way," before leading them into the women's changing room, lines with lockers and fresh towels from the wash. "If you may please change your shoes for these slippers," she offered, making sure their shoes would not leave any extra footprints to clean up.

Once changed, Jesgil led them through the spa area and over to the wall that divided them from the hot springs themselves. "Forgive me, but I cannot let you cross this point further. The floor is still wet," she warned before opening the door, revealing what should have been the natural hot spring, full of fresh water and mist, but instead were greeted by an empty rock tub.

So many people to look for, too much information to hunt for without being too obviously nosy. "Thank you, Ryerles." Lavender orbs slid over to the maid. It seemed highly coincidental that a temporary worker would be in place at this time, offering no relevant information. Idly, she wondered if she had anything to do with the current situation. It was unlikely, yet this was the kind of thinking she tried to leave to… Morticia sighed.

Still, that temporary worker was offering a sneak peak for something. Determined not to let herself be left out of the fun, the pixie shrunk herself back to her original six inch form. Black hair, slightly darker purple eyes, and the typically short black dress with her iridescent dragonfly-esque wings. Staying near the ceiling, the pixie followed them, ears straining to pick up every word. Morticia gave a smirk as she watched the pair switch from shoes to slippers. This was a benefit to being a pixie, one did not have to worry about shoes or tracking prints all over the floors.

Her suspicion was correct when the door was opened, revealing what was supposed to be the hot spring. As if her heart sank, Morticia's elevation decreased. She fluttered to and landed on the edge of the rock tub, looking forlornly in. This place was supposed to be misty, full of hot water… Bring back memories. Though what she was thinking of was more natural, everything else would have been perfect. Where was the water? What had happened?

Things truly were not going the way she needed them to be. An unsettling feeling of being lost threatened to choke the pixie. This just wouldn't do! It impeded her needs. With slight effort, Morticia channeled her emotions into anger as she took to the air and flew past everyone. Upon seeing Ryerles, orders were given. "Go check out that forest. We need more information." Using polymorph once more, the white haired woman now stood before the door to the dining room.

Sounds filtered through, slightly muffled from the obstruction before her. A plethora of voices, clinks of metal on metal or china, sizzling food. While the aroma was delicious, the fae could not bring herself to open the doors. "I could use your hug right about now…" she whispered to no one in particular, the anger trying to melt into tears.

He and his friend approached following after the maid with anticipation as the door opened. With great expectations, they were greeted with…nothing. "…It's dry." Shiloh said flatly. He could see the corners of her mouth twitch in annoyance, but she kept quiet. Somewhere in the back of his mind he recalled the image of a stopped up wash basin, but chose not to bring the topic up. With no other option except to take the maid's suggestion, he sighed. "I suppose we should get ourselves something to eat then…" A bit dejected, his gaze was downcast. "Thank you for your help." He said to the maid. Although they hadn't learned anything new from their investigation, he appreciated the favor the cleaning maid had given them. 

Navigating their way to the dining hall, he was wondering about the maid's unusual remarks regarding the resort's chefs earlier. In his absentmindedness, he nearly ran face-first into the doors, only to be barred from a collision by an arm. "Ah!" Looking down, Shiloh's arm was blocking him again. "Hey, don't go around in a daze like that." It was then he noticed that they weren't the only ones on this side of the door. "Oh, you're the fey woman we met just a while ago! Were the places you wished to visit in the resort closed for maintenance as well?" "How about we continue this inside? Standing around like this'll block the door." Shiloh suggested, looking behind them for any incoming guests. Without further ado, they both entered. Shiloh held the door open for him and the lady, entering once they were through. The fragrance of delicacies enveloped the room, and he could barely stand it. Right away they were attended by a server. "Greetings, sirrr and misses. How may I be of serrrvice?" "I'd like to request a table for–for three please." Cymbel paused a moment when he realized whom he was speaking with was a bit lower to the ground than he expected.

"Right this way. Please take a look at our resort's menu. Each meal is made upon request, and our accomplished chefs will dazzle you with their culinary skill and fabulous purr-formance." The calico cait sidhe in a prim uniform crooned. They were handed a set of menus bound in soft leather and inked parchment. "Thank you." He said, giving the feline a nod. As they seated themselves, he remembered the conversation they had put on hold before coming in. "Where was I? Right, I don't believe we introduced ourselves to each other. My name is Cymbel, and this is my friend Shiloh." He motioned to the poker-faced brunette, who raised a hand in affirmation. A person of few words, unless necessary. Admittedly he was a bit overeager to speak with other fey, especially if they weren't anyone he knew. 

When the server returned to take their orders, he looked to the others. "Both of you can place your orders first. I'm still deciding. There's so many options to choose from." The menu was very extensive–first courses, second courses, appetizers, desserts, soup courses, drinks of all kinds, and the chef's special. Shiloh mulled over her menu then handed it to the cait sidhe. "I'll have the rosemary chicken entree, with red tea. No sugar." Once it was his turn to order, he handed his menu in as well. "Let's see, I'd like to order the chef's special. With rose tea please." 

It was a short wait, as the chef then arrived. With theatrical flair, the ingredients were sliced and diced, sauteed and sizzling with showmanship. The seasonings were sprinkled with finesse and the garnish placed with care. Plated and served with a show worth retelling to family and friends, their dishes were presented with a color-pointed cait sidhe standing with arms crossed in pride. 

Meanwhile…elsewhere one of the sous chefs went to the storage room to pick up a chain of sausages that had been left to hang-dry. Inside, there were hams and salted meats left to cure in the cool, dark place. Taking a lantern in paw, the tabby cait sidhe entered through the creaky door and pulled out a stepladder. Pulling down the sausage links, something brushed against the back of his fur. Turning around, he thought it was just another hanging leg of pork, until…he saw a boot. A high-pitched meow pierced through the air and everyone in the dining hall heard it. The other staff rushed to the scene, and they swung open the storeroom to find a man hanging from the rafters. The sous chef was on the ground, staring wide-eyed at the terrible sight.

Jesgil was sure to give the curious guests a bow before closing up the door to the empty spring. Hearing them talk, she could feel her stomach rumble just thinking about the food they would be prepped by the numerous cait sidhes that ran the kitchen. They were goofy folk, but proud ones, especially when it came to their food. "I could really go for a Goldentail… side with some jasmine rice, a warm, brothy soup and noodles… and a nice pear tea…" she muttered to herself as she planed out her lunch before clapping her cheeks back to reality. "After you finish cleaning," she assured herself before taking back to the third sauna room and scrubbing it down.

AS she worked, though, her ears began to pick up noises as they began to ridge up, her sleeping blood stirring and sharpened her senses. The sound of the brush scrubbing the seating was drowned out by the panicked meows of of the cait sidhe. Don't worry about it… she tried to tell herself. They have things under control… She could feel her pace slowing down, foot getting thumpy as the cries caught her ears more. They have their job, and I have… mine… Unfortunately for her, the cries was enough for her to stop and quickly leave the sauna. "Sammy, can you finish up here? All that's left is the massage parlor and the dressing rooms."

"B-But where are you–"

"Bathroom!" Of course, that was not where she was headed. Instead, her feet darted over to the backside of the kitchen. Normally, she would get meowed at for doing so by the head cat, but matters were drawn elsewhere, as she too gasped in shock when she saw the body… However, it was more than the mere detail of there being one.

"H-how long… are these things closed?"

The head cat turned his head as Jesgil asked her question, before stating, "Weeks, meaning this body got the same treatment as a honey ham."

Weeks? "I-Is there any chance its opened before then?"

"WHAT?! Only an idiot would open this up before things finished curing. Otherwise, things would take longer and the quality would be put into question… Why? What has gotten you so purr-plexed?"

"I-I-I saw him only a couple days ago… When I got my job here!" It took a mere moment for things to click when the cat staff heard it, but it was clearly audible now and in much more panic when it did finally click: The head of the inn had been dead for a while…

It was not easy for her to be caught off guard by her surroundings, yet when the fae from earlier spoke to her directly, Morticia jumped with a start. "Oh, um… Yes?" She thanked the woman as the door was held. Her eyes fell on their server, widening with surprise. Never before had creatures such as these had been spied upon. Essentially, they were cats who stood on their hind legs, elongated fingers for greater finesse, and capabilities for speech. Though it really shouldn't bother the pixie, she found it unsettling nonetheless. How do they keep the shedding out of the kitchen??

Delicate fingers ran over the soft leather, remembering the first time she had felt the material in this form. Once more, she blinked as Cymbel introduced himself and Shiloh. "Oh, I'm Morticia. Pleasure…" That was the way greetings went, yes? Ryerles found her way to the pixie's shoulder. "Now that you're big, you seem to forget about me. I'm Ryerles." Returning her attention to the menu, a soft blush began to creep over her cheeks and ears. "So many choices… I'll have… sauteed vegetables over a bed of rice, and… Mint tea with honey? Please…" Normally, she wasn't shy, no matter her form, yet today, she seemed hesitant. "So, you're a fae of these lands?" Thanking the chef once the food was served, Morticia lifted a fork, inspecting it almost as if she had never used one before. Tentatively, she moved it into proper position, poised over the meal when that loud screeching meow caused the fork to clatter to the plate.

Some staff members, though highly curious as to what happened was trying to keep the guests back. Nodding to the pixie, the succubus took to the air, checking on things. Upon returning, Ryerles whispered in her ear, and for once Morticia had a mischievous grin. "I have an idea. Follow me, Cymbel, Shiloh." For being as light weight as she was, she as stronger than appearances led to believe, yet was gentle as she pushed the cait sidhes out of the way. There was the maid from earlier gaping. "Let's hear his story. Someone help me get him down?" Once the dead was laid on the floor, Morticia knelt beside and placed a hand over the heart.

The man's eyes blinked open as the necromancer stood triumphantly. He sat up, looking at her. "The spell is temporary. I cannot bring you back completely. Use this as a chance for revenge. Was this deliberate, or murder?" "Do you honestly think that I would deliberately kill myself when I'm happy running this place? I take pride in our work here." "Murder, then. Did you see who?" "Ya… The bastard had my face! He wanted to run my business into the ground, tarnish my hard work, my name, and something about under appreciated? Went on and on about what he was going to turn this place into." "Care to elaborate?" "No, let's just say it was unsavory." Thinking, she didn't think he would have any information about current events, not if he has been in there for weeks."What do you know about Amos?"

"The old man? He has been a bit cuckoo, but we expected him weeks ago. No one has seen him for some time. Last time I saw him, he seemed more deranged than usual, like cackling to himself. And his shadow… looked demonic." The boss zombie shuddered, and made a religious symbol before him. Morticia frowned, unable to connect the dots. What the heck was going on here. Yet she felt too much of a drain to keep him with this level of consciousness. "Unfortunately, this is the limit of our time. Rest well, Innkeeper. May Dalanesca take mercy on your soul." He slumped over, and was dead once more.

"…Murder. Why is it always murder?" He heard Shiloh grumble under her breath. He had just taken a sip of his drink when they all heard the screech, and the sight that followed made his stomach turn. They had found a dead man in the same place where the kitchen kept their hams and sausages. It was then that Morticia told them to follow as she had an idea. The deceased was cut down, and when the body was laid on the floor the fey woman began to work her magic. To his horror, the corpse opened his eyes and stood up! Necromancy?! Even Shiloh was staring with that hard glare in her eyes again. His first reaction was to scream, but Shiloh had already noticed and stuffed a piece of food into his mouth. As he was being distracted, she quietly whispered: "Shhhh." As odd as it was, it worked and helped him calm down.

They both looked on as Morticia questioned the dead man. The fact this was happening was making him feel nauseous, but at least he wasn't bleeding or had any open wounds. The revived corpse stated that he had been murdered by someone who was posing as him, and that person wanted to destroy everything he had worked hard to build. Sadly he refused to divulge what plans the villain had in mind, but he went on to mention something about the old hermit the girl from the hot springs named earlier. And from the description he was giving, it would seem Amos was either possessed, or worse. Then, as suddenly as he had come back from the dead–the corpse slumped over, inert as before.

A hush had fell on the entire room as the onlookers were taking this in. The cait sidhe workers were noticeably rattled, with their tails stiff and fur ruffled. But the head chef was a different story. The cait sidhe had his arms crossed and hackles standing on end. "Rotten scoundrel…" He snarled. "As if killin' him wasn't enough–the dog had some nerve leavin' him to hang where we'd find him!" One of the other sous chefs came forward asking timidly, "What do we do now? The whole drying storehouse's–" "Throw it all out!" The ornery cait sidhe snapped. "Clear everythin', even the hams that weren't near it too. All it's going ta be burnt, and we're not usin' the place 'til we get a priest in." While the staff members returned to their duties one by one, Shiloh mumbled loud enough that only Cymbel could hear. "…Good thing we didn't order any cured meats then?" He gave her a grimace and she went back to racking her brain with the new information they had learned.

"What a terrible tragedy… To think he had been trapped there for who knows how long." With all these horrid things happening, he was wondering if this place was cursed. But what struck him as odd was how sudden all these things were occurring in relation to each other. When he looked to his friend, he found Shiloh's face had gone pale and she had a stare that could bore straight through a wall. "This is bad, it's worse than I thought. By the condition of the body, he could've been in there for at least two to three weeks. Then that means…for at least that period of time someone has been impersonating the resort's owner." That revelation made his blood run cold. He thought of how many guests had come through Loch Fynn, just like them. They could have interacted with the murderer, and none had been the wiser. With the atmosphere tense, Shiloh nervously poked him in the arm. Addressing him and Morticia, she said: "It's probably not a great idea, but maybe we should all finish eating first. At the rate we're going, if we don't eat now we'll never get the chance with things going awry at every opportunity."

It was unnerving seeing the necromancy in play. Not exactly her first time seeing the undead, as she had faced off many (some of which were by the side the Lady Dalanesca herself), but it was odd seeing this body trying to move. It was stiff and rigid thanks to being apart of the curing process, though Jesgil could only guess more magic was applied on making his voice turn out normal to make things easy to understand. Still, it was hardly enough to keep him going for the moment and had been placed to rest. It was at that point the head chef took charge and started making orders to the rest of the cait sidthes, from burning every food item that was stored inside to getting a priest to prepare a proper funeral and purification. He even had some to check the rest of the available food stock to ensure nothing else was damaged and a massive cleaning crew for their cookware.

The top cat gave a heavy sigh before turning over to Jesgil, who still looked quite dazed form it all. "Alright, take a moment to calm down," he told the Draconian. "We will have a staff meeting after we get things in order and let me out of the bag." It was a stupid play on the phrase, but it was enough to cause Jesgil to chuckle and calm down. "Atta girl. Now then, why don't you go ahead and sit and the counter and I'll fix ya up something. Hopefully it will be something we can fix, at least."

There was a minor pause before Jesgil muttered, "Goldentail?" There was nothing but a cocky smile before a paws up from the head chef, confident on their fish stock. "Alright then. Thank you." Giving him a quick bow, she headed to the tables and sat next to the group she met with earlier: those who went in and checked with her.

"How could this happen?" she muttered, her head sloping to the counter into her arms. "Oh, I am sure everyone's going to be sad about this too… Guess the place is going to have to rely on which sibling was written into his will then…"

A dead body hidden for weeks. An imposter who can possibly take any face. Now, anyone and everyone could be suspects, until the search list could be narrowed down. Pinching the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger, Morticia felt dizzy attempting to process everything. There had to be some connecting factor they were missing!

Shiloh suggested their meals be consumed. Leave it to a complete stranger to remind her of basic necessities… Just like… Mutely nodding in agreement, the pixie returned to her seat. Yet, she could barely bring herself to eat a single bite, as her heart fell to the pit of her stomach as a stone. While managing to eat a bite or two, Morticia marveled how death and bodies had become so much a part of every day life that she was unfazed by it, regardless how it might seem. Her thoughts were interrupted by the maid from other accompanying them at their table.

With her fork pausing on its path toward her mouth, the pixie looked at her. "Siblings? As in his kids or did he have brothers and sisters?" On one hand, she was quite proud of herself for having remembered such details about human familial relations. "Wait, how do you know about that? I thought you said you were new!" Ryerles suddenly spread her wings and hopped down, snagging a floret of broccoli. "Always forgetting about me." she complained as she took a bite.

"You know, you could always check out that wooded area like I asked earlier." Grumbling, and shooting the pixie a deathly glare, the succubus flew away, floret in hand. Forgetting that she wasn't alone, Morticia sighed and stared up at the ceiling. "Why can't you be here?" she asked.

Shiloh certainly was handling this well. Despite the disturbing scene they all had witnessed, she still was able to stomach the rest of her meal and resumed eating like normal. Not wanting to let the food go to waste, he took up a fork and returned to finishing off the rest of what he had ordered. "So the late owner has remaining family members?" He asked, noting what the maid he and his friend had met earlier said. "Do you suppose this might have something to do with inheritance and property ownership?" Shiloh kept quiet for the most part, stuffing food into her face as fast as she could. Her unfocused stare meant she was likely multitasking mentally, thinking about what information they had learned so far and possible connections if there were any. Having cleaned her plate, she washed it down with her drink.

"So how did you know about the owner's family relations? Actually, let's start with what kind of person the owner of this place was. When you met the man who hired you, what was he like? Your first impressions and anything you remember up to this point would be nice." Leaning against the back of her chair, Shiloh was pressing the prongs of her fork against the empty ceramic plate before her. "Oh, you're trying to determine if the impostor left behind any possible clues that might inform us of his motive?" He inquired, half-hoping his guess was right. "Sort of, yeah." Came the terse reply. "Every bit helps. Besides…we can't really rely on the testimony of the dearly departed, as we've seen here. They don't know anything outside of what they knew when they were alive. So if they didn't see who killed them, they can't say anything about it. I wonder how far this 'impostor' thought ahead."

It was troubling, meaning despite having the serendipitous luck of a necromancer being present that did little to clear the haze surrounding the strange phenomena at Loch Fynn. "I suppose we'll have to move past questioning then. We haven't made much progress, I regret to admit. Perhaps we will have to pay that haunted glade a visit after all…" He wasn't looking forward to that, for sure. Personally he was hoping their investigation here would be sufficient to solve the strange occurrences so they wouldn't have to revisit the forest where the source of the hot springs was located. Recalling the fate of those who tried to breach the supernatural barrier made a chill run down his spine. "Well, I'm going to speculate that the murders happening around here are related to the stoppage of the spring and the freak tremor that girl back there told us." Shiloh said, gesturing with her fork. "It's too coincidental. I'd be more surprised if it wasn't related. There's also that crazy hermit, so we'll need to see where he fits in all of this." Looking to the maid, she asked her: "Did the staff ever mention that 'Amos' to you?"

Listening to Shiloh lay out her lines of reasoning, he began to wonder if it really was just happenstance too. Then, a terrifying thought came to mind. If someone could pose as the owner for two weeks, then what if that hermit Amos had been 'replaced' too? The spirit of the true owner of the resort mentioned that he had been acting much differently than usual, and there was that hint of an unnatural shadow. From the staff member who had told them of the springs' closure, Amos came by every now and then to help out with dowsing. If someone had been tracking his movements and patterns without the man's knowledge, they could learn enough about his habits through observation to know when he would come to the Highlands. Then, they could easily have the man dispatched and plant somebody else in his place. The only ones who would notice would be those who had interacted with Amos the most in the past, and from there the culprit could identify their next victims to silence. It was horrifying to think of, but it was plausible.

What if the person who impersonated the owner was still here, under a different face? He was worried if it was safe to speak in a public place like this. Would they even be safe in private? Anxious and afraid, he didn't want to go anywhere alone now. 

"I've been around long enough to catch rumors from the staff!" Jesgil said, looking at the fae as the head cait walked back in, fish shimmering in golden scales in paw before handling the prep work. Luckily for the customer, it was gutted in the back. "Besides, who would not write a will to ensure ownership when events like this happens? I mean, no matter what we think, we will all need to pay a visit to Lady Dalanesca eventually."

"Girl's not wrong," the cait confirmed as the threw the fish on the grill, letting the smell of the fish cooking fill the air. "The man is one of age, so he would have had one for his clock ending, and if there were going to be bets on who ownership would be headed to, then we would most likely be talking about children, not siblings. The son or the daughter."

"Right. One of them was well-respected with everyone here and kept the staff at heart, but had no idea how to actually run a business. The other is very business-literate, yet could not exactly care about the current staff. However, I could never really hear about which one was which and I had not seen either of them myself to make any personal opinions myself.

Of course, the more human-looking female wanted to check in with Jesgil about the man she talked with. After all, Jesgil was technically the last person to speak with him, and the chances of him being the fake was pretty much a guarantee. "He was… a quiet man. He asked me simple questions to make sure I knew I could do the work. Though, a bit before and after the interview, it was as if I could feel his eyes scan over me, as if I was going to be doing some…" her head tilted down to hide the blush, "other work instead. But other than that, his questions and focus was upon the cleaning and maintaining of this shop as well as handling the guest's needs."

It was not long after that when the fish was slid in front of Jesgil, the chef finishing up his garnishes in front of them as he typically would before pouring a glass of tea to go along with it. "Whoever it was im-purr-sonating him got down most of his traits down to a T, meaning he was very familiar with the owner. During the last two weeks, there was not a point in time anyone questioned his actions.

"However, he left here yesterday to collect new supplies, so when we have our staff meeting, you  can probably bet –"

"He won't be there…" Using the fork, Jesgil tore a portion of the fish off before popping it into her mouth. While it was just as flavorful as she hoped, her mood settled the flavor. That is, unless someone else went missing and the imposter is now taking their place… In fact, she would not even be surprised to be a suspect just by how new she was…

The next question caused Jesgil to jump this time, snapping her back to reality. "Amos? Umm… not that I can recall… unless we are talking about 'that creep' the others talked about. All I can really say I heard was how senile and jumpy he was."