"Humph, typical Elves, always taking things that aren't theirs!" Roland shouted as he continued to run. He didn't care if any of the refugees heard him, no let them hear him give scorn upon their kind. It would only give them reason to fend for themselves in these dark times. Perhaps in time they could rise upon their own primordial weakness and find power in a way to imitate the superior species. Only then would their untamed world of nature be made into something civilized. But that was a thought for another time.
Roland easily overtook his so called "partner" Mullwyk. If he had not drawn his sword, he would be able to run so much faster. If he didn't know any better, he'd think that Mullwyk had actively volunteered to be in Wellstone. Only a coward would not wish to be transferred over to be fighting the Blackmass on the front lines. A chance to make the ultimate sacrifice to the ultimate justice of the land that is known as The Pyran Arc. To die in service to one's nation is the highest honor a warrior could take. His name would be remembered throughout the ages as a martyr to the cause. Mullwyk may of been a coward, but he was still a human, and a human would never shrink from their duties to the glorious cause.
Roland jumped the fence and continued his pursuit in the alley. The only advantage Elves had over Humans was their pathetic frames. It allowed them to weasel into the smallest cracks in caves and run swiftly from the first sign of danger. Of course their speed was from centuries of running away, just as the refugees were doing. Still, humans OBVIOUSLY had the superior endurance and soon Roland came close to the suspect, or rather the culprit as any doubt of innocence had left Roland's mind. It was an Elf who stole from a human, simple as that.
Roland gotten within distance of him and attempted to tackle the culprit as they both neared a corner.