[Truthfully, Adrian should be accustomed to this by now. This isn't Trevor's first half-cocked gutter expedition and it's likely not the last. He knows. He knows and yet he's none the wiser for it, apparently.]

I left around midday. Had you been awake...

[Trevor gestures vaguely around the catacombs, as if that were the simplest explanation. As if he weren't well aware of the fact that Adrian would fly into a rightful panic when he woke to an empty manor. Trevor had intended to be back before nightfall, but he hadn't accounted for his own tendency to get carried away with the matter at hand.]

But you're here now. Serendipitous; as it turns out, I may have just found us a lead.

[Trevor motions for Adrian to follow, and -- one could question the wisdom of his chosen fashion for this particular task, but -- his half-cloak billows as he rounds the corner he'd been waiting at. He leads the way down the next winding passage, which brings them to a neglected iron gate barring the next bit of their journey.]

Did you catch that odor when you got down here? It seemed out of place, so I've been following it most of the afternoon. And now... this. If you care to notice--

[Trevor pauses to gesture at the lock: new and well-oiled against the relative rust and decay on the rest of the gate.]

How much would you like to wager on our quarry being down there?