Calloway Sharr fancied himself the greatest tailor in all of Skyrim, but in that moment, he challenged for the title of greatest sprinter. His light boots flew high as he ran, needing no second bidding to flee. Wasn't it always the way? Talk about trolls and danger shows up. Every damn time.

The slender Khajiit's cape flew behind him, flapping gloriously in the wind as he spun his carpetbag around front, and dug into it. Surely he had a stamina potion in there, somewhere, he imagined, though his paw halted as it felt something slender and hard. Feet still churning at the earth, Calloway smiled as he withdrew a crossbow, complete with armed bolt.