"Shoplifting"? Sure, I picked the damn thing up, isn't that what normal customers do, look at the goods before they buy things? Not that I was going to buy it anyway, it was a bowl, why would I want a bowl? I had enough in my backpack as it was. Still, either way, here I am, in the Imperial City dungeon.
The only other prisoner in this wing seems to be an old Dark Elf, right across the hall from me. Piercing red eyes, just like the rest of them, about all that's intimidating on him though, the guards clearly haven't been feeding him very well, he's skeletal.
"Well now, a pretty little Wood Elf. You're a little far from the forest, huh? Looks like your days of woodland frolicking have come to a tragic end. To go from the gladed realm of Valenwood to a rat-infested hole like this... how very sad. Those walls must feel like they're closing in on you. Pretty soon you'll go mad, and the guards will cut your throat just to stop the ranting."
Ha, "Ranting"? the only o