The rumble of voices exploded through the marketplace as Myyt slid like sunbeams through treetops between the dusty, sand covered stalls of soft merchants and their goods. Spicy and sweet aromas of exotic spices fluttered through the air, masking the scent of the sweat which soaked nearly everyone's clothing. Not far from where Myyt was skulking about, there erupted a heated argument between a customer and one of the merchants. No doubt the commotion was over some disagreement over the price of some gem or bauble, yet that did not concern Myyt. What concerned the clever thief was the lack of attention being paid to the good merchants "hidden" goods. Behind the stall, hidden in a shelf under the counter top sparkled the hilt of what appeared to be a very, very valuable dagger. Immediately entranced, the young man gave a slight smirk before wrapping a silken cloth over his bright cerulean hair, then back around over his nose and mouth leaving only his crystal blue eyes to be seen by any of the more... observant populace. 

Staying close to the shadows, Myyt grew closer and closer to his quarry. Unfortunately, our thief did not notice that although the commotion being caused by the merchant caused the perfect distraction, it also summoned a pair of large, armored guards. As Myyt reached out and gingerly grabbed dagger, a large, plated hand grabbed his wrist. A pair of eyes peered down at him from behind the confines of a heavy, metal helmet as a crooked smile crept over the guards scarred face.
"An' just where ya tink yer goin', mate?" The guard nearly spat at him. A sheepish grin crept over Myyt's face which was (unfortunately for the guard) concealed by his scarf, otherwise he might have had an idea that the young man was going to twist in such a way that the guard, no matter how hard his grip, could never follow. Once his grip was broke, Myyt bolted off into the street, tucking the dagger within the confines of his belt loop. 

"After 'im!" the guards bellowed as they drew there weapons and began pursuit, parting the crowds like a hot knife before a slab of butter. Myyt ducked under stalls and slid between legs, flying into and out of the crowd trying desperately to escape his belligerents...