Raph didn't realize he was being watched as he climbed through the window of the penthouse apartment.
On the roof of the building just across from the penthouse two men lay in wait, the butt of a rifle pressed against one's shoulder and the barrel rested on the roof ledge . The other fidgeted uncomfortably checking through his binoculars the building opposite them over and over.
“Shit,” Said the man as he checked his binoculars again “shit, burning salted shit."
The rifleman turned to his companion, trying to adjust the tarp that was shielding him from the rain and eyes of any passersby. The smaller man was having a hard time fixing the tarp, his fingers slipping on the oiled leathers unable as the water pattered on its surface. The rifleman grunted, turning back to staring emptly at the floor to ceiling windows of the room in the building in front of him.
“Careful Harry.” Said the bigger man.
“Shit” The smaller man's head hit the bar holding the canopy.
The larger man grabbed the edge of the thin leather and carefully pulled back into place, spat over the ledge as he readjusted his position.
Raph was blissfully unaware of what was going on the roof opposite his building, he was preoccupied with problems of his own. These problems largely consisted of the fact that the apartment he was trying to break into was that of a Mage. It wasn't as if Raph hadn't robbed other Mages before, he had and it usually went better than robbing an inepts house. Members of Mineriack guilds were notorious for their pride, this pride consistently manifested in an assumption an inept would never dare rob them, an assumption that was largely true. Raph however was not some petty robber, he was a burglar and fine one at that and a burglar had tools just for this kind of occasion. Raph flicked a brass switch on the side of his goggles that raised all of his lowered lenses. Raph blinked as he adjusted his eyes to the dim light that filtered in from the quartz lamps that ran along the street beside the alley. As the brick facade of the building came into focus he began to climb. As he scurried up the side of the building his toes and fingers finding purchase and hold in gaps between the brick he hauled his bulk up the wall. Raphs wide set shoulders flexed his back rippling with effort as he pulled himself up onto a window ledge. Crouching there his feet splayed on the thin ledge he pulled out a small blue buffalo hide pouch. Reaching into the pouch he withdrew a fat crystal of salt about the size of a marble. This small lump of salt represented months worth of work and years worth of money but this job, this job would make it all worth it. He pushed the crystal against the windows of the apartment and felt the cool surface of the diamondine glass. Fractals spiderwebbed out from where Raph pushed the salt against the glass spreading in rapidly repeating geometric shapes. Raph grinned triumphantly, reached out and tapped the window, it crumbled into small white granules that poured down. Pulling himself through the now empty window pane Raph looked around the sitting room of the penthouse apartment. It was not what hed imagined, well used and well cared for leather furniture faced the window and bookshelves filled with worn spines covered the walls. Perhaps the oddest things were the pedestals topped by glass boxes, each held different sizes, shapes, and colors of crystals, gems, and stones. Clean white light lit the crystals from below, Raph shook his head, the pure light and glittering gems dredging up memories better left alone.
“John!” Shouted Harry
The concerned note in his voice caused John to turn sharply pulling the tarp again as he did
“What is it, Harry?” Said John
“You daft mudder the tarp,” Harry rapidly grabbed the tarp and pulled it back into place, growling as he did so “Look”
“There's a kid in there,” Said Harry, “I noticed him when he broke the window.”
John pushed his binoculars to his face again and peered into the apartment across from them and sure enough John could see someone. A young man was standing in the living room of their quarry, he wore a black shirt while fitting him loosely around the chest and was tied tightly with ropes at the wrists. The shirt was tucked into a pair of loose black linen trousers that were again cinched with rope this time at the waist and ankle. This was all fairly normal attire for a burglar to John until he saw something flash dully in the moonlight. The flashing was the man returning what looked like an enormous pair of brass glasses into one of many pockets that seemed to litter the pants. Blonde hair that had been blacked with coal could have brushed the young man's shoulders if it hadn't been held back in a tight bun. As the burglar turned the sniper could see a pale face with a rough blonde five o’clock shadow wrapping around the lower half of his face.
“How did he get in Harry?” Asked John “I thought that glass was impenetrable”
“Normally is,” grunted Harry“ Boy must have used a counter lattice to get in”
“That means this kid has to have been casing this place for at least as long as us,” Said John fidgeting nervously with his binoculars.
“Probably longer,” Said Harry “ takes months to grow a crystal as large as the one he must have needed”
“Poor kid,” Harry shook his head slowly “Probably just some gutter shite that fancies himself a real thief, shame we have to kill him”
Harry reached into his cartridge case fingering a charge as he thought of the logistics of the shot he'd have to take now.
Noticing Harry's movement John inclined his head sharply towards the window, “You can still make the shot right?” a thread of anxiety entering his voice causing his gutter accent to slip through
A grin flickered across Harry's face “I can make the shot.”
Harry took out a small pouch from around his neck and opening it slightly took a pinch of the white powder rolled it between his fingers. John looked over to his partner as he shook slightly and the area around them warmed by a degree.
Raph wrinkled his fingers at a whiff of an acrid ammonia scent that must have been left over from some cleaning product and he quickly rubbed under his nose as he stepped forward. Searching the room for traps, the gems and stones on display called to him but he tempered his desire and scanned the room. Satisfied that the guilder, like must mages had assumed the glass and his position would make his home impenetrable, Raph began to make his way to the first pedestal. The ammonia smell was replaced with the clean almost citrus smell that he associated with quartz lamps as he approached the pedestal holding a large uncut emerald. Raph saw his own reflection in that of the glass case and within the emerald inside of it, the green of the gem making him appear alien to his own eyes as he stared at himself. Unshaven and dirty, his skin a pale shade that marked him as an outcast among criminals and outcasts. His other features were of someone that had grown living hard on the streets, a small cluster of pox scars marred his cheek and a small scar cut across his square jaw. Perhaps the most obvious sign of his upbringing on the streets was his slightly crooked nose, broken noses were not uncommon even among the rich but Raphs was bent and crooked from being broken again and again and never being set correctly. Raph was pulled violently from his musings when he heard a slow release of steam behind him and then a grind of grate being pulled back. Raph groaned inwardly, the strong scent of iron light metal in rain or blood filled his nostrils and he looked towards the source of the noise. What he saw made his stomach drop. Of course his mark had an elevator and it was one of the new steam powered ones, not one of the old emerald lift models. Raph ducked behind the closest pedestal, turning back around to see a man stepping out of the metal lift box. A quartz light set in its roof illuminated the brushed brass interior and the geometric fractal designs carved into the lift car. The man stepping out of the box was not imposing by any typical measure, in fact standing at perhaps five feet tall the man was small and wide. The squat man wore a black jacket and tall top hat, this combined with the strong scent of iron he gave off lent him the presence of a cast iron stove. The man had his back to Raph as he closed the grate back on the box and then pulled a curtain over the portal. The man's next steps brought him to a coat rack where he took off his hat and jacket hanging them there and revealed a white vest and white shirt underneath which the man had unbuttoned at the collar.
Without turning the man grunted “You might as well come out boy, could smell those half cracked goggles of yours from two floors down.”
The man's thick brogue caught Raph off guard, and he began to stand before he caught himself and squated back down behind the pedestal. The man then turned around allowing Raph to get a good look at his face for the first time in the reflection from one of the glass boxes. He was completely bald, his face held a heavy brow with dark intelligent eyes set far back in his head, a bulbous nose dominated his face and underneath it drooped a thick gray mustache. The man's mustache twitched as he spoke again.
“Can I sit down and get these damn things off” Iron gestured to his uncomfortable looking buckled shoes “or do I have to stand while you rob me?”
Raph squatted there looking into the reflection of the older man's gaze not responding, there was absolutely no way this man knew he was here.
“I'll take you staring at me like an invalid as you allowing your humble robb-ie to take a seat” He proceeded to walk forwards to a low footstool sitting down, unbuckling his shoes and kicking them off.
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Raph tensed to leap out at the man but sharp tsk stopped him freezin him in place and causing him to teeter slightly and almost lose his balance where he crouched. Not looking up from his stocking feet the man spoke again, “I assume this is typically the point that you threaten me but seeing as you appear to have lost any sort of cognitive function I'll give you one chance to leave”
The man's harsh words finally shocked Raph out of his disbelief, the man knew he was here, and as much as he doubted the man's offer he knew if he stayed still there would be no chance of escaping. Raphs thoughts coalesced into the beginnings of a plan and rose slowly hands in the air to show he held nothing. Opening his mouth to speak his senses were hit by the overwhelming scent of ammonia, causing him to cough and splutter, stopping in words that he would have said. The squat man seemed to smell it too sniffing the air once before shooting to his feet. Before Raph could even react he was on the ground the wind knocked out him gasping for breath. Raph felt arms like tree trunks wrapped around him pinning his arms to his sides and a heavy weight on his chest held him to the hard wood of the floor. As the two struck the ground Raph heard a sharp crack followed by the sound of the stool exploding and the pedestal he had been hiding behind cracking apart.
On the roof opposite the building John and Harry had watched the scene play out and Harry grinned in anticipation of the kill while John watched his face covered in a sheen of sweat. Their target had come home early from the Duke's ball just as they had been told he would. They had seen the boy get caught and the sorry excuse for a conversation that had transpired between. Harrys smile was closer to that of some feral animal than any expression that belonged on a human face as he lined up his shot.
“Take more before you take the shot, the man's supposed to be powerful, at least a metal and close to crystal.”
John spoke in a nervous whisper to his partner as he watched the two people across from them, his fingers slick on the binoculars he held to his eyes.
Harry took out his pouch again and opened it wide and tapped out a large pile into the palm of his hand, tendrils of the acrid scent barely making it to John's nose before Harry closed the pile tight in his fist. This time the air heated up far more than before, the wet tarp above them beginning to steam slightly from the heat. With one movement Harry replaced the pouch back into his shirt and drew out two cartridges from his side pouch and poured the powder down the barrel of the gun followed by two lead balls. Harry sighted down the gun and took one breath in and held it before releasing it slowly and the lines of his and shapes of his targets faces picked out in sharp detail as sorcery burned out from the powder in his hand and into himself. He breathed in again, holding it this time, feeling his heart slow even as the thrumming hot energy poured into him building up in his chest. Harry waited, the heat in his chest increasing from a pleasant tingle, to a light sting, and then a burning churning heat. Finally feeling as though he was about to burst he released the pent up magic inside him, igniting the powder in the gun with a flash of thought the two lead balls rocketed out of the gun with a sharp crack. Using the force of the sorcery stored inside him Harry changed the trajectory of the second musket ball as it traveled down the barrel directing it towards the boy's heart. As the sniper shifted his focus onto his target the man blurred into motion shooting across the room faster than even Harry's enhanced eyes could follow and knocking the young man to the ground. Musket balls impacted with where his targets had been a mere moment before.
Cursing Harry shot up to his feet, “We need to go, we need to go now”
John looked at his partner confused by his reaction and fear showing plainly on his face. “Harry whats going on, they're not dead, why aren't they dead Harry?”
“I missed.” Harry replied flatly as he packed up the gear and wrapped his rifle in oiled leather to protect it from the rain
-“You what?”
“I shattering missed John, my bullets did not hit the target, I don't know any other way to say this to you to get it through your thick skull, now we need to run like the nights chasing us” The man who had been the aspect of stillness and patience the whole night moved now with an incredible urgency. As if his words had been a prophecy a growl vibrated through the air and the quartz lamps below them flickered and went out. Light thrummed and pulsed like something alive from inside the apartment, the brightness lit the room so brightly the assassins couldn't even look directly at it. The rooftop perch of the would be killers was lit cast in shadows by the blinding white light. The assassins looked on in mute horror as from within the pulsing white light they saw the figure of their target slowly stand up and looked directly at them.
Raph was shaken from his stupor when his vision was filled with a blinding light that penetrated under his eyelids. As he opened his eyes he could see nothing, he at first thought he was blind, that the mage had somehow taken his vision from him, he realized though that it had been slightly darker with his eyes closed. Raph realized that no he wasn't blind but instead the room was filled with light, light brighter than anything he'd ever experienced. The light was an almost physical presence that filled the room bringing with it a sense of sharp crackling power that made all of Raphs hairs stand on end and filled him with the need to run. The small man, Raph could barely make out his form now in the light was standing facing the window and was speaking. As his head cleared he could hear Irons voice filling the room with his thick accent.
“I'd like to be able to tell you that you almost had me there” His voice had lost the humour of before and now was hard as stone “But I wouldn't want to lie to a dead man.” The man's hands raised into the air and his hands moved in a slow circle and the light that filled the room compressed into a thin ribbon that seemed to sear the night with its brightness, like cloth that was made from sunfire itself. The ribbon wrapped around the small man's arms streaming up to a small hunk of dark metal that hung around his neck on a leather strap. The pendant must have slipped from under the man's shirt at some point and as the light streamed into it the smell of ozone suffused the air and blue lines arced across the metal. The last of the light was drawn in and with a sharp crack a jagged blue line was seared through the air leaving a shadow in Raphs vision. Vision clearing and hearing returning Raph heard the sound of cracking stone as it hit the ground and saw the building silhouetted behind the short man. An entire third of the roof had been reduced to a smoking crater that hissed as the rain struck it.
Turning to him, feet still bare and pendant swinging the diminutive man looked at Raph,
“Now to deal with you,” He took a step towards the prone thief then stumbled slightly before collapsing to the floor.
Raph scrambled backwards until his back hit a leather sofa and he pressed his back up against it as he stared at the mage who lay before him. Coughs racked the man's body as he tried to raise himself from his procumberant position, he lifted his head and looked at Raph. Although he was pale and lips flecked with blood the man's eyes still shone with an inner strength that made Raph want to shake. Groaning the man raised himself to a seated position and looked down around himself at shards of glass and emerald.
Reaching his hand out, Iron flipped a piece of emerald the size of a finger “Shame, why couldn't you have hid something a little less expensive?” The words brought on another fit of coughing and blood. Iron wiped his lips leaving long streaks of red along his forearm “So are you going to run or not, or are you too stupid to even try and get away after I just obliterated yer mates”.
The weakness on the man's face contrasted with the destruction around him and the sharp scent of ozone in the air and the sirens that Raph realized he could hear. Gulping hard Raph opened his mouth but the smell of ozone and ammonia invaded his sinuses and he began coughing.
At the sound of Raphs hacking the smile on his face quickly fell and he growled, hands shooting out and the shards of emerald around him began to glow as light seemed to bend and refract in them without escaping.
The emerald shards seemed to soften as they grew brighter and then without warning the gelatinous pieces of gemstone shot towards him and wrapped his wrists immobilizing his hands behind his back.
This movement was enough to shock Raph out of his stupor and he began to babble “I'm no mage ser, my name Raph. Raphael, you know like. I ain't no mage ser, just named after one, please i weren't with them. I swear ser I swear on the angels.” Raphs brain was working overtime as he tried to infuse his speech with the rough accent and mannerisms that a typical thief would have.
The look of anger on the man's face did not even flinch as Raph spoke, “Yer a good actor boy and maybe on the streets you can con poor fools with that performance. Not me though boy, yer a mage or I’m bloody salted”
Even distracted as he was, Raph still flinched, trying to maintain the facade that had served him for so long Raph spoke again. “I ain't no mage ser, ain't been my whole life, I don't check when the ministers come round. Imma muddy through and through” He inwardly cringed at his own use of the slur.
Roaring in anger the short man rose, the fury his eyes overpowering any joviality that had still resided there, “Ye can swear to the shattering seed if you like, ye lie to me one more time and I'll snap your wrists so fast the Quicksilver himself wouldn't be able to stop me.”
With the roar of anger the room filled with the smell of iron and zone and what little fight was left in Raph broke.
“I'm sorry sir,” Raph shook as tear ducts that he thought had closed years ago began to fill “Sir I promise I wasn't with them, I was just trying to rob you, I have no idea who those men were.”
Somewhere in the back of his mind Raph realized he had lost the carefully cultivated gutter accent but this thought was far from important to him as his bindings tightened. Raph continued to plead as the bindings constricted his wrists further and further “I'm not lying sir, my name is Raphael, I am a robber, well a burglar, I wasn't working with them, I'm not a mage, and I'm not a shattering lyer” Raph froze as soon as his last words left his mouth as he felt the bonds stop tightening. Trying to compose himself despite the tears in his eyes and the snot running down his face Raph rose back into a seated position. The smell of ammonia and citrus were now all but overpowered by the scent of iron and ozone that filled the room. Sitting there shaking he watched as the man eyed him, his piggy black eyes betrayed a keen intelligence as the old man analyzed the thief in front of him coolly. He could see gears turning and perhaps even a slow spark of recognition as he was stared at and he began to shift uncomfortably. Raph needed to leave, he needed to leave now, the sound of police bells rang throughout the city now and the whining sound of sirens was growing closer, worse Raph started feeling a sense of recognition as well.
Finally blessedly the hard look slipped off the old man's face and he sagged with wearines his hand twitched and the emerald cuffs around Raphs wrists clinked to the ground. With that he reached his hand down to Raph to help him up, not knowing what to do Raph accepted the proffered hand. The old man pulled him up with surprising strength but did not let go of Raphs hand.
“I know yer name so by all rights ye should name, especially since you've come halfway to it already, me names Gallowglass. My friends call me Gall, however though you may know me not by me name but me title, I am the Iron.” Not letting go, Gall shook Raphs hand hard.
Raph shook his hand back not knowing what else to do, his mind was putting all the pieces together as he shook Galls hand. The squat man in front of him was a Fractal, the aspect and representative of Iron, and perhaps one the most powerful men on the continent if not the globe.
“Now if yer done gawking boy then I believe we have some things to discuss, ye have a place to stay tonight I assume?” The question was unexpected and Raph nodded that yes he did, “Good lad, come to the Citadel and tell me your name and who yer there to see.” looking towards the window “ye know the way out.” Nodding mutely Raph walked to the window and began climbing down the window, he knew things had just changed for him. What he failed to hear was the turning of ancient gears and the shifting of watchful eyes.