The Elder Scrolls: Dominion (BOOK 2: Forebear)

Chapter 2 - Scum of the City

"Gah!" A commoner exclaimed, as a Legionnaire knocked him down.

"Sorry!" The soldier gave a quick apology, before continuing his run.

He paused for a while, getting a bearing on his surroundings. Damn it, it had to be the Market District, Karl complained in his head. His target was a sly one. Probably thought a crowd would be good cover. All he could see was the mass of humanity swarming the place. From the vendors promoting their prices, the buyers haggling with them, to even the lone beggars on the corner asking for alms. Every one of them seemed busy, hurrying off from one errand to the next. He was looking for a needle in a haystack. 

Then, he noticed a flash of movement behind a mob of merchants. One of them shrieked, as the figure knocked him down. He dashed towards them. The figure noticed him coming, and ran faster.

"Stop! Thief!" He shouted, to no avail. 

The culprit ran, dodging every person and cart in his path. Luckily, Karl was just as agile. He swerved left and right. The thrill of the chase excited him. His hunting instincts kicked in.  His heart began beating like a war drum. The noise of the crowd were nothing more than whispers in the wind. Eyes were dead straight on his target. He felt like a sabre chasing his supper.

Karl sprinted faster, his brown leather boots thudding on the bricked street. The thief spotted a nearby stall selling sweetrolls. Without hesitation, he pulled it down onto the path. The Legionnaire bounded out of the way, and resumed his chase. The vendor cursed at him in response. 

The thief growled, annoyed. He dashed ever faster, yet his legs were starting to buckle. Karl noticed this. He began sprinting quickly as well, although his armor was weighing him down. Then, his target made a sudden sharp turn. He ducked towards a shady alley. Karl bounded right after him.

Out of nowhere, something metallic and sharp came rushing towards his face. He felt the blade nearly grazing his eye. Karl barely managed to strafe to the side, as the object missed him and impaled itself on a wall. Throwing knives. He looked at his target maliciously. The thief sneered in return, and resumed his run, this time with much effort. 

He was almost at the end of the alley. Karl noticed, and sprinted ever faster, not wanting him to escape. The thief was a meter away. Then, a foot. An inch...

Something came out of the corner and lunged onto the thief, tackling him down to the ground with a thud. His attacker wrestled him down, restraining his hands behind his back.

"Stay down!" The tackler yelled, beating down the man with his burly fists. He grimaced in pain.

"Damn it, Caelus! Stop!" Karl ordered, rushing towards them.

"HA! You're lucky I was even here, Nord scum! You should be thanking me!" He responded hostilely, all while persisting his beatdown, throwing mean hooks at the thief's torso, his knuckles cracking against rib. 

Karl drew his blade, his precious Fang, and pointed it towards his fellow Legionnaire. "Stop, Caelus! We're here to arrest this man, not assault him." 

The larger Imperial glanced at him with disdain. "You dare point your sword at me?!"

"Your friends aren't here to help you." Karl said.

"So is your elf girl, whelp." He shot back, fondling the mace on his waist. Karl had tasted its unforgiving steel before, and he wasn't too fond of reliving that memory. He tightened his grip on Fang.

"Let him go. I'll take him to the Prison, and you can go back to your side of the City."

"So you can get all the glory again? I don't think so." Caelus replied. "You wouldn't have even caught him if it weren't for me."