The innkeeper led the way through to the room where the crime had taken place. The door shudders and jerks in its frame as you open it and step into the sparsely furnished guest room. Inside, the stench of death fills your nostrils. The low bed is untouched, but the small table that once sat in the room’s center has been knocked into a corner. Dried, rusty blood splatters the mats that cover the floor and outlines the silhouette of a prone body. Streaks and prints indicate that someone may have walked through the blood while it was still wet.<br/><br/>* * * *<br/><br/>"Konichiwa." the Dragon replies, giving a polite bow in return. "How may I be of service to the magistrates?"