When Kravitz was told to expect a detective to contact him about his missing siblings, a very small tiefling in an outfit out of a detective's novel was most certainly not what he was expecting. The boy, upon seeing the surprised look, showed his badge and listed off his credentials with ease. Then, Kravitz invited him in, offered him a cup of tea, and apologized for the mess that was his apartment.

"Are you from Faerûn, sir? I can't place your accent," asked the detective (Angus, as he wished to be called), sitting atop an uncomfortable stool at his small round table, a notebook in front of him.

"Uh, no. I hail from Zakhara. My siblings and I moved from Huzuz as refugees during the beginning of the war. And no, they did not return," he added, sitting across from him. "They wouldn't leave their things behind."

Angus looked almost uncomfortable, pulling a manila folder from his satchel. "That's… that's the thing, Mr. Kravitz," he said, opening the file to a page of several gruesome pictures and portraits of random people. "I believe that your case is much bigger than we realized. Do you recognize the people in these photos?"

Kravitz took the pictures with hesitant hands, his eyes widening as he looked through them. His chest heaved and sweat beaded at his temple. He placed them back on the table, his sister's photo at the very top. "I- I do. They were friends of my siblings."

"How did they know these people?"

"I don't know. Work, I guess."

"Mr. Kravitz… We found the remains of these people in a mansion in the Skycity. We also found extraordinary traces of magic and the remains of what looked to be a ritual circle. I think your siblings were trying to… become liches."

Ducking his face into his hands, Kravitz hiccuped a sob, trying to calm down. He wasn't usually like this, but the stress had been mounting as of recently, and he just couldn't help it. Angus gave him time to catch his breath and wipe his eyes, looking at him with a pitiful expression.

"What about Edward? I don't see his picture anywhere."

"We couldn't find his body among the wreckage. We're not sure what happened to him, as we only found six bodies. Perhaps he's still alive."

He shook his head, feeling tears form once more. "No way. Edward and Lydia were inseparable; they'd rather die than live without the other."

"I'm… sorry you think that, sir, but we won't give up hope on him. I'm sure he'll turn up!"

"Th- thank you, detective. Is there anything else I can help you with?" Despite his words, his voice was flat and uninviting.

"I'm sorry, sir, but yes. Do you have any idea why your siblings would try to become liches? Have they practiced necromancy in the past?"

He sneered at the thought. "I'm a sanctioned priest of the Raven Queen, detective. If they were practicing necromancy, I would've been able to smell it on them. That kind of magic leaves a stench that can't be covered up."

"What about their 'friends'?"

He sniffed. "Yes. But it was an age old smell; the kind that comes from dabbling, but not committing. I didn't think they were problems. Most people who smell like that tend to reform quickly."

"You have experience with people like them?"

"Plenty. I've met half the ex-necromancers in the Undercity. They come to me seeking forgiveness."

"But you don't work in a temple."

"Funeral home, temple, same difference. It's easier to pretend you're visiting the dead than attending Necromancer's Anonymous."

Angus nodded. "What about your siblings? Why did they attempt the ritual?"

"I don't know, detective," Kravitz snarled, then paused, taking a deep breath. "I haven't been in contact with my siblings for a very long time. Surely your file says that?"

The tiefling looked at him with surprise. "I- yes sir, it does. I was just— I assumed you would be able to take an educated guess at their motives, but it seems I was wrong. It's admirable that you would lie to protect them."

"I'm not—"

"Please, sir, you don't need to explain yourself. I understand this is a touchy subject for you; it is for anyone." Angus closed his notebook and hopped of the chair, turning to face the stunned elf. "Since you don't want to cooperate any further, I may need to do some digging into your background, sir. If you change your mind, however, you have my frequency. Thank you for the tea!"

With that, the boy detective turned on his heel and left, closing the door gently behind him. Kravitz waited for his footsteps to fade away before standing up, a scythe materializing in his hands.

He had a visit to make.

As Angus stepped out onto the streets, his stone of farspeech began to chime. He fumbled with the files in his hands, trying to shove them back into his satchel, before picking up. "McDonald!"

"Hi honey," came the voice of his mother from the stone. "I finally found Hallwinter."

He beamed, weaving through the crowded streets. "Does that mean—?"

"Not yet. We're going to give him a test run, first, but I don't doubt he'll pass. We're giving him Davenport."

"Davenport?" he asked in surprise. "Are you sure he can handle that? Mr. Davenport has been broken for ten years now!"

"I have faith in him. It seems he already identified the problem; it took us several years to figure out, if you will recall."

Angus nodded, forgetting she couldn't see him. "I just spoke to Mr. Kravitz, about the lich case."

"And?"

"He knows far more than he's letting on. And his name is an alias. Mr. Kravitz didn't exist until at least 10 years ago."

"Well, it seems you have another mystery to solve, hmm?"

He beamed. "The farther into this case I go, the more interesting it gets!"

"Just be careful. You know we have eyes and ears all over; don't be afraid to use them."

"Of course, ma'am—"

"And make sure you're home in time for dinner."

Angus rolled his eyes, still smiling. "Yes, Madame Director."