Tyrone would have loved to be anywhere but here right now, but he had to put food on the table. This was the way things were in the Fringe cities, stealing from some overly pompous noble who would most definitely not give a shit about what had gone missing was the way it is. It just really annoyed him that he had so many negative feelings about this job. And it was even more so when not a single member of his crew was present, and as it stood the duration for his stealth skill was almost about to run out.

There was a click and Tyrone let out a deep breath, he hadn't even know he was holding it. That wouldn't  do, the first thing that could possibly go wrong with a job was if he was not calm enough to see it through to the end. And if he wasn't calm then a whole lot of mistakes could be made and whole lot of thing would go wrong and he would end up dead or worse captured by the (Idí), an elite or perhaps not so elite but more like bully police force of the kingdom….they have been a constant source of grief since the death of the king some fifteen years ago, they were now the regent's pawn until a new king could be crowned who could hopefully take his people out of the shit show that wax their existence.

 

Tyrone slipped through the window he had opened up, he held his breath for a moment as he crossed the threshold and strained his senses as hard as he could. There was only so much could do when you consider the fact that he was still level 7 without a class, not even a civilian one with a mishmash of skill cards that had absolutely no synergy whatsoever. But even without the appropriate skill, anyone who was not an ignorant cool could still tell where magic has been used or is present. That untamed well of essential energy, or Mana could barely be kept in control except by the most skilled of mages or Mana users.

 

On the other hand if perhaps a formation, or an item had magic, unless kept in specialized containers, they too would not be able to keep the feel of magic out of the air. Tyrone was looking for it for any one of two reasons. 1 it meant that perhaps there was a magical trap set, perhaps an alarm spell or anti thievery spell. If it was the alarm Tyrone could take care of it easily, there was not much to the intricacies of alarm spells, it needed a physical trigger and a threshold before it could go off, and the mages of the kingdoms were unfortunately very unimaginative…. Finding it would not be hard. A trap on the other hand would mean he'd lose an arm at best, get terribly cursed at worst or just die to make everything easier.

 

The second reason he was feeling for magic was that Ultimately it meant that there was a treasure of some sort to be had, and after his informant had told him that truly there was a score of epic proportions that could and would most definitely take him and his crew of the streets, Tyrone had not choice but to go for it. He took a closer look at the room, it wasn't basic, even for a noble. It was gaudy, a canopy bed with black and blue will sheets and drapes. The bed frame itself was carved from black wood with motifs of Lions and dragons, Tyrone scoffed. Whoever owned this room perhaps the fashioned themselves a member of the royal family, because only the royal family had dragons and lions for the coat of arms and Black and Blue for their noble colors.

The Kingdom was not one to the trifled with, the nobles had absolute power but they were  all hard core traditionalists. Should someone else infringe on their colors, or their coat of arms, then shit will go down like it's a bar room brawl. Now that was for the rest of nobility system, but the royal family? That was calling for the complete eradication of your house. But he that as it may Tyrone was not here to debate politics, he doubted there was a way a royal would be all the way out here in the Fringe cities, overlooking the Wild Lands.

 

"I take it you appreciate the surroundings?" Tyrone jumped and turned around, throwing a smoke bomb behind him, lighting nits fuse seconds after he had pulled it off the bandolier around his chest. He did not even wait to see it land as he ran for another window different from the one he had used to access the manor. Tyrone had already cased the location and knew what other spots or locations to head to in case he wanted to make a quick getaway.

 

He jumped, tucking his body into itself and using his back while protecting his head and neck. He didn't hit glass like he expected, instead he hit a wall. His body crashed to the ground as the air was knocked out of him. He raised his head up to see that suddenly he was surrounded on all sides by the (Irí). Tyrone was no cool, these were not the typical bullies of the Fringe cities, their black and blue uniforms, and the fact that their helms were up and had the massive symbol of a hammer on it, told him that these were the real deal…. The real Iron of the kingdom.

 

"Running away before we even have a chance to meet? That is so unbecoming of a prince. But back to our earlier topic the room is quite nice isn't it Tyrone? As it should, this is a royal manor. It's meant for the king or any of the immediate royal family whenever they visit this city. It originally belonged to your grandfather after he lost his throne to a coup by his own younger brother, so for all intents and purposes this house belongs to you….. hell even the King's guard pointing their spears at your head belong to you, but look how time has buried truth and they don't know they have attacked a royal, in fact they attacked the only true blood direct descendant left alive of the very first king of the kingdom…..a deed that's punishable by death."

Tyrone was confused, but even more so when the guards all dropped down to their knees and bowed low, not a word was said to them or spoken from them. Tyrone got himself back to his feet And slowly moved himself back towards the window. He had no idea what was going on, but he was absolutely sure they got the wrong person and that this was most definitely a set up.

 

"I assure you this is not a set up, and yes I did just read your mind, I'm a mind mage after all. But I am also the standing Regent of the Old kingdom of Ounyi Idu, Grand Mage of the Craix Empire institute of magical and carded studies. And Duke of the kingdom itself. You should take a seat, you standing while I seat goes against every royal protocol in the book, and while the King's guard are loyal to a fault they would not be able to stop me from Killing you if I wanted to, so take a seat boy, I don't have much time and will like to get this done with."

 

The (Irí) as one turned to him and pointed their spears at the man who was speaking, their weapons softly glowing as they, much to Tyrone's shock, protected him from the man that was speaking. But Tyron was not naïve, he knew exactly how the world works and just what messed up shit could go down if he trusted anyone here with his life or trust any word coming from the man who introduced himself as the regent or to the bloody King's guard who seemed able to changing allegiance and loyalty at the drop of a hat. But ultimately Tyrone knew if he proved stubborn he could die, and he cared very much for his life.

He moved himself past the guards, none of them stopped him, even though there was a part of him that wished they did. Tyrone could tell none of them were sure about what was going on, the person with the cards was the man sitting on a bedside chair with a small table in front of him. Tyrone went ahead and sat down, his face a blank mask, but his heart, beating and pounding rapidly in his chest as fear and a foreboding sense of doom covered him.

 

"No I would like to offer you a job, a position or really just a choice about the way your life will go After this meeting. And unlike my normal self, I will be perfectly and completely honest with you... so! What was it they called you again….. The Wolf Cat? Tyrone Piraeus Julius Alexander Carter...…Omaye! Your majesty...…follow me, here and now or...be dead before sun down tomorrow...so choose, servitude....or death?"