A skinsuit will mask the magical energies emanating from your body, at least for a time, in addition to changing your appearance and scent. They'll be unable to identity you and their dogs will have no way to track you.
There will be a skinsuit merchant somewhere close to the Shambles. Butchers were always cutting apart carcasses only to discover what they thought was a calf or a sow was in fact an ill-fortuned adventurer wrapped up in a skinsuit. The body was (assuming the butcher wasn't completely unscrupulous) handed over to the Faith, while the skinsuit was peeled away and sold to a merchant for a few copper.
There. Babbingtree and Sons' Skin And Costume Emporium, declares a shop-front in peeling gold letters. Behind the dusty windows, the suits hang limp and wrinkled from wooden mannequins. You glance up and down the street before hurrying towards it. Nobody is following you yet but you suspect you have mere moments before a witchhunter arrives.
The bell tinkles as you burst through the door. Behind the counter, a portly, grey-haired man in lilac robes glances up from the pile of suits he has been repricing. "Welcome!" His voice croaks and he goes pale as he notices the butcher's knife still clutched in your hand, dripping gore. "Wuh-wuh-what do you want?"
"A disguise."
"Well we, uh, have many to offer." He smiles tremulously. "Will you be taking advantage of our 100% discount, sir?" His gaze is fixed on the knife.
"I'll... pay you back."
"As you say, sir," he nods, gesturing into the shop. "Take what you want. Human skins at the front, inhumans further back, beasts at the rear."
You waste no time in diving down one of the aisles. The shelves rise high above you, stacked with hundreds of boxes. On the front of each is written in neat handwriting a concise description of its contents. Human - male - late middle age - short - fat - head missing. That won't do, it has to cover your entire body to work... Human - female - youthful - fair skin - hands only. Hands only?! What good was that?
You look up at the sound of the door bell tinkling. Had they found you already? You hurry further down the aisle, into the dark, dusty recesses at the back of the store, and grab another box.
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