Peggy
Mevis' attempt to retrace his steps is successful, though as he does so, he feels a sudden chill on his back. Even if he were react properly and look around though, he would perceive nothing. Could it be just a stray winter breeze, or are his instincts telling him something more?
Robert
>*Mevis would immediately flinch and take poised stance ready to sprint. He has and always has been a coward, and as such he knew this sensation very well. He has survived this long after all because of his cowardly instincts, and frankly, they were screaming at him to sprint away right now! His hairs were on end, and his palms were getting sweaty. Even the shadows cast by the nearby buildings were starting to look like monsters. Damn it, why did he have to be suffering a paranoia attack right now. Didn't he make a promise? Had he really not gotten any better from back then?!*

*He would clench his fist and grit his teeth, trying to focus on his master's teachings. He would then take a few deep breaths and feel his nerves start to calm down a bit. He still wanted to run, but at least this level of fear was tolerable. He could not do what he wanted, he had to be a hero. That chill he felt may have been nothing more than a breeze, but it would be better to be cautious when dealing with assassins. With that Mevis would attempt to step into the shadows and activate his stealth perks while shifting his Oni mask over his face to activate his thermal vision. These were the only senses he had that stood a chance in tracking assassins, and he could only hope that his one stealth perks would make it difficult for the assassin to get the drop on him.*

*Now equipped with some line of defense and a stronger resolve, he would continue to trace the tracks once more, hoping they would lead him to the culprit*
Peggy
Mevis' effort would unfortunately not yet bear fruit. Either it was again, just his nerves or perhaps the assassin was just that good. Regardless, looking at the tracks further, he would find that they-

Stopped. The trail just stopped deep in the middle of the road. There was simply nothing more to follow, and it didn't lead close to anywhere suspicious. At most, it indicates that the assassin might be in this part of town. What a downer.
Margaret
*Mevis would sigh, of course things wouldn't be that easy. Guess that meant he had to start asking around and start interrogating people for clues. It wasn't something he was comfortable with, as he didn't like talking to people. 

*This quest was making him do many things he didn't like to do. Perhaps that was a good thing, forcing him to act more like a hero? Or was it just a sign that he wasn't cut out to be a hero in the first place. Well, now wasn't the time to ponder about such things, the results of this quest would provide the answer anyway.*

*He would approach the nearest individual he can find, and putting on his best 'heroic' smile he would greet them*

"Hello there, I'm Mevis, a member of New Sunlight. I was sent here to investigate the assassination that had occurred recently. I know this might seem random, but could you perhaps tell me if there have been any unusual looking people that had passed through here since then?"
Peggy
The person he approached would be quite a queer sight- the pointed ears and rugged constitution that practically *Bulged* Under his work clothes indicated that it was a steppe elf, which was already a rare enough sight, but his most defining trait was the incredibly long wild, writhing mass of beard that antithetically seemed like the most dignified work of art in the world- a trait that could only belong to a Lora, yet here was it, seen on the face of an elf.

And then he spoke, 
"Ah, yer talking aboot tha murder, ain't ye?"

The accent thicker than curding milk and harsh enough to rend rocks apart was something that could only belong to a denizen of a harsh Mountainhome and more certainly was a pain to parse through. Still, it was understandable with some focus, which was a relief for any investigator.

"I was just plannin' ta go ta tha sheriff regarding this matter. Ye see, I kinna sleep that noche, being too busy thinking aboot me knives, an' happened ta hear some strange sounds with tha morgue, courtesy o' me elven ears. Recently me old friend tha caretaker has been sick as well, an' has been acting skittish whenever I went ta visit him. Dunnaw what's possessed 'im, but I worreh... So after much deliberatin', I finally decided that it be better ta confront him than let this stew, bad 'ealth or not."