You are aware that spells that change clothes, such as Disguise Self, do not actually change one’s physicality. It would be an illusion. However, on the other hand, Alter Self would change everything about a person, aside from clothes.

Ashe smiles as she watches her companions pull together so many clues. She thinks about the spells as she puts a finger to her lips. 

"Of course, these doppelgangers escaped capture, hence why we were taken into custody. Based on Alijurn's observations... well, it would seem to me that whatever spell they had cast was dropped either manually or by force. The question is are there any potential witnesses to this event?"

For what it may or may not be worth: Ashe's Investigation 18

You don’t see anyone around besides the guard Dahme’dre had already asked, as many are keeping away from the area. However, you do have a potential thought. If these figures had ran into the crowd, then changed their form, they would be nearly impossible to track. The guards would have then searched for you all. It’s very possible that they used the chaos as a smokescreen. If so, then they are quite skilled in their transmutational magic.

Dahme'dre tries to assist Alijurn following the tracks as the path gets more difficult. (Investigation: (3)16) 

Alright, Alijurn, give me one more Investigation check for the group!

"Bah. Magic always makes the work so much more unpredictable." Alijurn starts investigating the tracks as they traverse into the mishmash of footprints left by the crowd. 

Investigation: 18

Dahme'dre pokes him gently in the ribs. (Guidance: 2)

With your ki-infused sight, Alijurn, you can just barely make out the footprints directions. The tracks lead down the streets, winding and turning. You search for around an hour as you follow the tracks through the city. They stop every once and a while and change, but then continue just as quick. Eventually, you reach a run-down bar to the west of the city center. The sign outside reads, “The Djinn and Tonic.” 

"Well, let's stop and have a drink." a spectral hand pulls the door open and holds it for the party. Dahme'dre strides casually in, and takes a seat at the bar.

As you walk in, you see that the predominant clientele here is mostly dwarves, half-orc’s, and humans. A few cautionary glances are passed here and there, but many return to their own business. The man at the bar is a gruff looking dwarven fellow. His beard is more one massive pair of red mutton chops that meet at a bald spot than an actual beard. Meanwhile, he sports a pretty nasty scar along his lower jaw. He looks each of you over and grunts, “What’re ya havin’?”

"Just water." Alijurn would usually order some ale, but at a moment like this it was crucial that he was on his sharpest. To him, that meant no alcohol.

The dwarf raises a brow, but shrugs. He passes a murky mug of water to you, “Not a good time to be one o’ yer kind. What with the bad publicity goin’ round...”

"At least he's not a human, am I right?" Dahme'dre gives the barkeep a withering scowl (Intimidation: (1)11). To Alijurn she adds, "What is it with this backwards town?"  

"I would love an ale," Ashe asks as she climbs onto her own seat by Dee. She looks from the barkeep to the others in the room, do any of them stick out to her? (Perception: 5)

Alijurn downs his water in one large gulp, a drop of acid falls from his lip and into his cup. "On the contrary. It's always good being of draconic blood. Long as you are metallic that is." (Helping on Dahme'dres intimidation if possible) His polished scales glisten in the dim light of the drinking hole.  

The dragonborn looks the barkeep up and down, does he look suspicious at all? Insight: 14

The dwarf passes an ale down to Ashe. Meanwhile, Alijurn, as you gulp it down, it definitely feels like the mug wasn’t cleaned all that well. You can still taste some heavily watered down alcohol in it. Not enough to get you buzzed, but enough to call this place’s quality into question. With that being said, you look the dwarf over. He obviously looks like the type of guy you don’t want to meet in a dark alley, but you don’t get the feeling that he’s trying to hide anything.

I’ll allow the help. Dee 2nd Roll: 7, Dwarf: 21

The dwarf just grunts at your remarks, seemingly unfazed or just uninterested.

"Is it true what they say then?" Ashe looks over at Alijurn, obviously not noticing anyone suspicious in this room. "Are metallics always of good nature? I'm not well versed in the world of the draconic..." 

(Ashe could be lying! Is she versed!? History: 22)

You are very well versed, as is Alijurn by association. Without getting too much into the creation of Elustra, the schism between Metallics and Chromats takes place at the beginning of the hundred-year War of Silence. There is practically no recorded history of this era, but a few legends have passed down over generations. Roughly one thousand years ago, the devil Patreius, the “Father of Lies,” sowed discord between the Giants and the Dragons. The giant, Laufei, sought to usurp the rule of the dragon, Behethon. Lines were crossed, children slain, enemies made, and the war began. It was at this time that the dragons were forever cursed. No longer would they hide behind their once regal appearance. Instead, their scales would reflect the truth of their actions. The chromats, therefore, are dragons that live for themselves alone and respect no higher rule. 

Dahme'dre looks at Alijurn's glass, and pauses. She'll need to order something but she's been put off the idea. "Stout, please." Though she isn't planning to drink it.

She sits quietly for a few moments, her mind miles away, or rather within 100 feet gazing through Mondra'goran's eyes, as he searches outside the building.

Mondra'goran is taking a look around outside. Maybe Cupcake can search the back rooms. 

Mondra’goran is firmly positioned outside. From what he can tell, the bar is bigger than this room alone. There are indeed some backrooms. However, in here, you can’t tell where the entrances are.