Ozmodias Harbor

"How ignorant can you be?! He's the villain here!" Ihram shouts in frustration, a rare sight. He runs after the octopus vendor. Knowing that the seller is in the alley, he stands at the entrance, scanning it over. "Gah! Nowhere."

Rosamond shoved the last guard away from her, even though he had already let her go at the nobleman's strict voice. She was scraped on her cheek from where she'd been shoved against the wall, but she hadn't really fought back because she was just a woman and it wasn't like she had the mass to pose a serious threat anyway.

The white-haired catographer certainly looked like a feisty little thing as she wiped at a bit of blood at the corner of her cheek where her head had been forcibly turned, her bright blue eyes blazing. Lord Alecos helped Raulio up to his feet.

"Those idiots!" Rosamond said, angry, and not at all taking responsibility for how messily she handled things. It was quite evident that Rosamond was an emotional and passionate sort that tended to blaze ahead when she felt righteous or justified.

"Are you alright, Raulio? Yes? Great!" Rosamond moved down the street, paused, and then turned to Lord Alecos, gifting him suddenly and quite out of the blue with a thousand-watt smile. "Thank you for the help."

She raced after where the horde of people went, not so far behind, and when she saw the guards aiming up at Megan, she threw an arm out to knock one guard's aim off. "Stop it, you morons! The Octopus Sales Man is the Murderer! That's what we've been trying to tell you!"

"Whew, that's a relief." Raulio was ok. He had managed to successfully fend off most of the attacks. However, his poor canvas was utterly destroyed, reduced to shreds of paper and splinters. Most of his supplies were scattered and shattered, save his notebook and his pencil, which he twirled and holsters like a little pistol. "That'll teach you all to mess with the Fletchers!"

He continued to chase after the action, popping a caffeine chocolate, courtesy of Renalt, as he went.

"Yes, everybody listen to the woman of above average attractiveness who claims she is but passable! She speaks truth!" He said these lines with gusto, like a Shakespearean actor.

As Megan floated down the alleyway, she charging up an icy spell, the air becoming frigid around her and air molecules beginning to freeze around her casting hand.

C'mon you son of a bitch. I'll freeze you where you stand.

The captain of the guards turns to Lord Sorrowsong in confusion.

"Huh? The octopus man? What did he ever do?"

Nonetheless, he gestures for his men to lower their crossbows, which they do reluctantly. The Fletchers are ignored in their bickering. Meanwhile, high above, Megan would notice a familiar crooked man dart from behind a trash can down a side alley. And finally, Robert catches his breath.

"The octopus seller! It's him, he's the killer! Don't ask me for proof, I'm the mayor and this is not a democratic state! Lock that creepy bastard up good and tight!"

The guards, suddenly noticing him, salute their mayor.

"Yes sir! You heard the man! Catch that octopus vendor!"

The guards draw nightsticks and surge into the alley.

"First person to catch him gets a bust of their heads made of marble, I swear it on my reputation as an artist!"

He turned to Rosamond. "Come my unattractive cousin. Let us see if they require our assistance!"

He pulled out his pencil and charged forward. "For my next novel- er I mean for JUSTICE!"

As the guards surge into the alleys, Megan fires an icy blast. The blast hits the wall, exactly as she'd intended, and explodes into the alley. The octopus man twists into an unnatural angle to get out of the way, his body looking like it's about to snap in half. Despite his efforts, though, he is unable to avoid all the shrapnel. At least three shards of ice tear through his arms and torso, splattering blood against the wall behind him. Nonetheless, he manages to continue to stagger off down the alley, albeit much slower. He leaves a conspicuous bloody trail as he limps away.

Lord Alecos Sorrowsong stepped out around the corner, intending to flank the murderer by slipping down alleyways. Great, then, was his surprise, when the murderer mirrored his actions fifteen meters away, and stepped out, facing him. Alecos swung his cane up, swaying as he shouted a word in a strange, elfin language, as the tip glowed and burst of flame heralded the approach of a ball of fire that hurtled towards the feet of the murderer. It would expand on contact, the force of the expulsion hopefully throwing the murderer off his feet and seriously injuring him.