Missy jumps, dances, twirls, and otherwise exaggerates her movements down the stairs in a surprisingly sneaky way and is gone before anyone notices. She comes out into the darker ground floor. The stink of stale dust and otherworldly magic was stronger down there, but both where overwhelmed by the smell of death.<br/><br/>The circular room was more Spartan and utilitarian. What few tables and chairs and the one bookcase it had have been piled against the inside of the front door. Leaning against the pile of furniture is a body, old and torn by something with claws. Or fangs. Or both.<br/>