The man who called himself Mikal leaped as Alex cast his spell, timing his jump to the cadence of his words. He was going to make it - Alex hadn't finished the spell yet. He would get this bastard yet...
Unfortunately, he didn't count on the shorter female moving in to block his path as he charged forward. At 6' 1" 190 lbs he completely dwarfed the poor girl - and at his current speed, he wasn't able to stop. Realizing that he was going to hit the girl, he opted for the collision that would result in the least damage to her. He would attempt to throw his arms around her in a massive bear hug, keeping her close to his chest and bringing her with him as he hit the floor. He twisted his body and took the brunt of the impact on his armored shoulder, absorbing most of the fall.
If successful, the stranger wouldn't waist a moment. "Pardon me," he managed through grit teeth, pushing the girl off his body and leaping to his feet to face Alex and accomplice once more ... only to find them both vanished. He'd finished the spell.
"Damn the gods..." he swore, smacking his fist against a nearby table. He'd been so close. Now he'd have to track the little vagrant all over again. How many innocent people would die by the time he managed to hunt him down once more? He looked back at the girl, struggling with his frustration. Had it not been for her, he would have had him. "I don't think you realize what you've done, so I won't arrest you as an accomplice." He brushed off his cloak, his eyes as cold as winter frost. "But you should understand that you've unwittingly allowed a murderer to escape justice tonight."
Breathing deep and quelling his anger, Mikal turned to face Grom. He looked suspiciously at the closed door and the broad ax in the orc's hand.
"Steady, friend," he spoke calmly, meeting Grom's eyes carefully, "let's talk for a moment. As you can doubtless gather, I am not a guard from Southport. I apologize for lying to you, but I had no way of knowing that you weren't an accomplice of the Lord of Darkness." He stepped forward, throwing back his cloak and revealing a full cuir boulli form-fitted over mail. An amulet rested on his chest, perhaps a familiar insignia to the orc - a single candle transfixed within a shining eight-pointed star. The symbol of Saint Soleil.
"Let me start over. I am Adrian, son of Robert, heir-abandoned of House Arkos, Soleillan Knight of the Monastic Order, Paladin of the One True God and servant of the Eternal Light." A frost-blue glow flashed over his eyes as he mentioned the Eternal Light. "That," he said, extending his hand to the orc, "is the truth, Grom Fellhammer. I cry your pardon for my deceitfulness, and I beg you the honor of a second introduction."
He looked over at the girl. "As for you - that boy that I was trying to apprehend goes by the name of Alexander. He's wanted for several accounts of murder and practition of the dark arts. I've hunted him across four towns and three cities. Tonight was the closest I've ever gotten to catching him." He strained to suppress a growl. "And I should have had him."