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[My Name is Immaterial]

((I don't think I was very clear last time; your attacker is above you, so your dogs are unable to reach them.))

[Rolepgeek]

retreat to the mouth of the valley with shield up, dogs behind me, and ready to stab the bastard at any moment.

I can track him again pretty damn easy, after all. Fucker can't hide his scent from Greghir, not with how awesome she is. Even the explosion residue won't do it(penalty, sure, but I doubt it'll be anywhere near auto-fail size)

[My Name is Immaterial]

At the end of the alley, you stand poised, waiting for him to reveal himself. Seeing some movement out of the corner of your eye, you turn and see him climbing down the side of building.

As you shout to your dogs, he freezes and turns to you. You get a good look at him, a young human, brown hair, average build, tallish, dirtied face, no other distinguishing marks. He's wearing a somewhat dirty grey tunic and trousers, with a leather vest, from which he pulls a small vial, which he quickly downs, before taking off down the street, pushing past a passerby, and drinking from another vial, suddenly vanishing from view. The dogs screech to a halt, sniffing around his location. They seem to have lost the scent.
No one every expects Piazo material.
You get a sinking feeling in your stomach.

[Rolepgeek]

Gartens curses quietly, then calls her hounds back to her. The only bright side was that she got a good look at him...and the residue of whatever magic he'd used might be able to be traced or something. A sketch artist might be able to get a good enough image so that they could put up a poster, or maybe scry, or something, right? As long as the image was still fresh in her mind. Which meant she should hurry...she set off at a brisk pace, favoring one side and using her spear to help support her; that magic had hurt, though with a good sparring match she was sure she'd feel better((aww yeah martial spirit stance=free healing from sparring matches, or at least converting lethal damage to nonlethal. Even sort of makes sense; shrugging off wounds with a friendly match as the warlike mentality takes pleasure in it)). She was less please about how Kemik looked; the dog was a lot tougher than she was, but she still didn't like it, not with the way her paw looked.

What she was curious about though, was how he'd known to have something to hide his scent. Was it common for the officers here to have hounds, or at least sniffers? The invisibility potion could be almost expected, if he was to have magic of this caliber at all. But the fact that he'd had something to throw off Greghir, one of the best (non-sentient) trackers in all the places she'd seen, disturbed her. She never liked magic in the first place. How was she supposed to catch the bastard if he could do things like that?

[My Name is Immaterial]

((Firstly, as a note to Rolepgeek, yes, it was sort of a DM ass pull, but it was planned before hand. So not a last minute ass pull, more of a preemptive ass pull.))
Upon returning to the station, you report to the captain, who calls in a sketch artist immediately after you start your report. She does a masterful job, (Nat 20!) crafting one of the best sketches of her career. It goes above and beyond your initial description of the suspect, asking just the right questions to get at the details you didn't notice the first time. The captain congratulates both of you on your exemplary work. Some adepts have already tended to Kemik's wounds, and move to assist you. You wave them away and head out for some post-nightfall practice, which goes modestly.



The gods are eagerly waiting to see how Gregory Guy and Laura Godkissed will recover the corpse.
Kord has his money on Guy throwing the body back to the Station, while Wee Jas is betting on them taking the sewers.

[AlleeCat]

"It's Alaris, and I have a few questions for you. Now don't be alarmed, but that killer you told me about yesterday may be targeting alchemists. Have you seen anyone suspicious around your shop? Has anyone threatened you in the past few days?"

[My Name is Immaterial]

"What?! Oh my. Let's see... no, not that I can think of. If I see anyone, I'll tell you. Where are you staying?"

[AlleeCat]

"It's called the Brass Wheel, a few blocks away. I'll be staying there indefinitely, so drop by any time. By the way, do you know any other alchemists who aren't too fond of the Church Coalition, by any chance?"
Alaris also takes a moment to sniff at the explosive powder that Elias is usually making.

[My Name is Immaterial]

"Most of us in the field don't mind to Church Coalition, as they scare off thieves. However, I did hear about someone who was connected to a gang that were going to steal a gold shipment from one of the AMC's caravans. The story goes that they couldn't pin it on him since they didn't have enough evidence. If memory serves me, his name is Oskar Torrun. His shop is off that way." Elias points to the southwest.

The smokepowder has a smell not unlike rotten eggs. It's probably what was used in those explosive devices. Elias notices you taking a whiff of it. "Smells horrible, doesn't it?"

[AlleeCat]

"Yeah. The suspect left a bomb at the scene that smelled a lot like this when it went off. Anyway, I'll let you get back to work. Remember to see me if you see anything."
Alaris sets off to grab Gregory before investigating this guy's shop, feeling better about going to a suspected killers' place behind some muscle.

[Remuthra]

Gregory continues looking for Gartens.

[My Name is Immaterial]

((I have no idea how I missed that. Sorry.))

Laura returns the body to the station, while you set out searching for Gartens.
You ask around, following her trail, eventually finding the alley in which she was assaulted. The locals have never seen the man she saw before. After searching the streets for a while longer, you return to the Station, to find Gartens toweling off from a sparring session.

[Remuthra]

Anything?

[Rolepgeek]

"Some cuts and bruises, and a rather annoying magic something-or-other that exploded. Smelled like an otyugh crawled up a dragon's ass and died there."

The crusader grinned suddenly, the expression lighting up her typically somber features. "That and a portrait of the bastard canny enough that a four-year old could recognize him. How about you guys?"

[Remuthra]

Gregory grimaces.
"Well, I found an exploding box today. You wouldn't believe how painful being incinerated is."