Thieves have nightmares about being chased - the rooftops and streets dark and unfamiliar, their pursuers supernaturally persistent, alarms pealing across the whole of the city as they strive to get away or find a safe haven, something. Azabeth was well familiar with such things - had been chased herself across the whole of Denerim - and would be chased shortly for the final time; but she was unaware of such an impending destiny, and from the crest of a warehouse, the noisy mad dash through the streets was laid out before her in bird's-eye view, interrupting her journey across the upper level of Denerim. Mildly curious and practically unrecognizable wrapped in her cloak (a much thicker and more waterproof model than Aurin's) she paced to the peak of the eaves to peer downward at the commotion, rain sloughing off her back, the drops of water heavy and fat, like pebbles from the sky.
Kerrast's boys, it must have been; she could hear them yelling over the rain, see them a few turns back in the labyrinthine streets, but it was the figure that passed directly below her feet that most caught her attention. She caught a flash of dark hair plastered to a skull with moisture, a wolfish face scowling over a shoulder as the man glanced behind him - and the merest glimpse of dark blue eyes, like chips of sapphire.
She felt her jaw go slack, her eyes widen, already made huge in the rain-soaked night. .... Aurin??
There and gone, his long strides eating up ground as he fled a half-dozen strangers, tearing his way noisily down sidestreets and across alleys. To Azabeth's practiced eye, the man was clearly running without destination, tacking back and forth in hopes of reaching safe ground; she chewed her lower lip a moment, glanced back at Kerrast's boys as they closed ground, and made her decision. A few long strides of her own and an exquisitely balanced jump-and-roll, and Azabeth was on the next roof over, coming up alongside the fleeing Templar with steps as light and swift as cat's feet. She knew she was far faster than all seven men combined, fleetfooted with the advantage of straight lines instead of switchbacked alleys to traverse, and it would be moments before she could overtake Aurin enough to reach the ground level.
Now, an opening would be all she needed to interfere with this little street-rumble, before it got too out of hand....