Sanguine Metal Dawn Cp. 3

Garrett returned to his apartment late in the night. It had now been a week since his fiasco with the boxman, and Basso and his beloved had since eloped via a ship departing for a foreign land, deciding that it would be smartest to lay low at least until Lady Rumford deemed her chambermaid dead.

The thief slammed his back against the newly locked door, releasing a pent-up sigh of bitter frustration as he did so. He was absolutely exhausted. The night's raid on the docks had gone all but south, and had ended out being far more trouble than expected, for far too little profit.

Squeezing his eyes tightly closed, Garrett felt the odd sensation of his right against his worn eyelids.

Two years after the incident and it still felt off to him. Although he was growing accustomed to the various tasks his new eye could perform, many of which were quite useful in his line of work. But still...it felt strange having a metallic orb in place of the real thing.

Releasing a short burst of hot air from his nostrils, Garrett started away from the door, but was instantly halted as that peculier little device caught sight of something just at his boots. It was a letter, carefully folded and sealed with a golden gear pressed firmly into the blood red  wax.

Truly, this was an interesting way to leave one's mark.

    Out of gold lust for that little gear rather than actual interest in the letter's contents, Garrett plucked the discarded paper from the wooden floorboards.
He slid his long fingers up under the lip of the envelop, and tore.

Inside, was a rather expensive piece of parchment, detailed with gold leaf gears, and other industrial symbols. The thief's lips quirked in slight amusement and intrigue. What kind of person would have such a heavy fascination with such things? His answer became obvious, as he started to read:
*************************************************
Dearest Mister Garrett,

I beseech thee to come to thine aid. Certain woes have befallen min circumstances as of late, and I now seek to call upon one who canst deliver said treasures from the hands of min greatest foes.

Gold shalt be provided for completing said endeavor, but pray, come hither to min office in Auledale first, for that is where thou canst procure further information.

-K
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To say the least, he was intrigued. Work had been slow as of late, with his two latest undertakings consisting of robbing the docks, and assisting his infatuated mate spring a girl from her life of servitude.

Naturally, at first he was apprehensive. This letter obviously came from a noble. Only someone with more money than sense would waste said gold on stylized parchment such as this. Garrett had a rotten history with the nobles, as did anyone in HIS line of work.

But perhaps, what troubled him most about meeting with strangers now, was the result of the last meeting he had been called to via noble. Or rather, the Trickster god in disguise. The thief rubbed his temples. That was a mistake that he would be damned to make again.

Glancing up at his calendar, he felt his stomach drop. Rent was due in three days, and Garrett was still quite a bit short, even following all of his previous engagements. He grimaced, trying his best to make light of the situation through dry wit.
It was this noble and his request, or slumming it in the city streets.

"If I keep my wits about me this time, make sure he's not a Pagan..." Garrett scoffed.

Reluctantly, he left his dwelling once more.
*********************************
The address provided in the letter led surprisingly not to a mansion or a castle, but rather a large factory warehouse. Garrett must have looked from the letter in his hands and back up at the looming foundry several times before actually approaching the facility.

Once inside, the first thing he noticed was the low hums and beeping emanating from just about everywhere around him. As far as he could tell, this building was at a complete loss for guards or any other life for that matter. Yet, its condition was far to pristine and new to have been abandoned.

"Maybe I have the wrong place..." Garrett murmured.

    But as he turned around, a long, ominous shadow fell over him. Instinctively, the thief went for a flash bomb, and violently whirled around to chuck it at whatever was lurking behind him.

Who he saw however, halted his assault.

He was quite possibly one of the tallest men Garrett had ever seen. He was dressed somewhat absurdly, wearing a sort of golden helm atop his head. The rest of his outfit consisted of long, teal and gold ceremonial robe, and the thief couldn't help but notice that the brooch holding his cloak to his shoulders at the neck, was indeed, a gear.

"Are you the one who sent me this letter?" The thief demanded, still clutching tightly to the flash bomb concealed just beneath his cloak.

He continued to stare up at the figure, who was now grinning menacingly.

"Yes. Father Karras here did indeed call for you." An unseen females voice answered him as the man he was faced with remained still as stone. Garrett's eyes flew open. Truth be told, he hadn't actually met Karras in person, despite the fact that he had given the thief the prosthetic that had become such an invaluable tool over the last few years.

There was an almost godlike power wafting from him, and coupled with his eyes burning with that volatile mixture of genius and insanity, Garrett had to admit; this Karras was quite the imposing fellow.

That is, until he opened his mouth.

"Ahh, you've come! Tis wonderful, Mister Garrett."

The man spoke with a very obvious speech impairment, and his voice sounded closer to the one you would use to speak to a beloved pet, or perhaps even a young child. At that moment, any and all discomfort vanished from Garrett's mind.

"Yeah, I got your letter. You said you had something for me to steal for you?"

Karras smiled, but then turned and started forward into the neighboring room. He looked over his shoulder once, motioning for Garrett to follow him, which the thief hesitantly did. Once within the confines of what appeared to be an office of sorts, Karras called out seemingly to no one.

"Helen, please come hither dear."

    Garrett watched as a young woman with her long black hair done up in a bun entered the vicinity. She wore an infatuated, almost lost expression upon her pale face. Karras faced him again.

"This is Helen, my...helper." He explained.

Garrett gave the young woman nary a look, and answered Karras with only a silent stare.

"What can I do to assist, Father Karras?"

    The girl expressed such fond devotion that Garrett almost shot her a puzzled expression. Clearly, there was more going on between these two than a simple servant/master relationship.

"Please, wilt thou taketh our guest's cloak?"
"I prefer to keep my articles, thank you." Garrett snapped, halting Helen before she ever got a chance to turn around.

There was a moment of awkward silence between the two parties, until finally Karras shrugged.

"Very good. Thou mighst leave us Helen."
"Certainly sir." The woman bowed graciously before exiting the office.

The Master Thief and the Mechanist Leader were left in utmost privacy.

    Karras leaned forward against the desk, his fingers interlocked. His intense eyes focused and scowled down upon Garrett.

"I hath called thee to min home, to beseech thee. I hath need of thou."
"I kinda gathered that from the letter. What is it that you want, Karras?" Garrett growled.
"Mister Garrett; when one offers thou aid to help thy fellow man, thy brethren must return the favor."

Garrett ran his index finger against the glass of his false optic. It was glowing a soft amber, illuminated by the fading candlelight of Karras's office.

"Tch, I knew this thing wasn't free...."
"Tis free, of course! Tis the reward you deserve for slaying the foul Trickster."
"Okaaay...so if it's free, what was that part about favors and repaying them?" Garrett scoffed.
"Tis a line from the scripture of the Master Builder. One should always be willing to repay a fellows generosity. Greed, is one of the fatal flaws, Mister Garrett." Karras recited.

The Master Thief rolled his eyes, leaning back in his seat.

"Listen, Karras. Thanks for the eye and all, but unfortunatly for you, I didn't come here to be converted, nor do I have time or interest in any of your tenants. So either tell me what you want me to steal, or I'll take my leave."

Karras's demeanor shifted instantly at this, his dark eyes narrowing with formidable disdain.

"I see. So this is how it is destined to be then..." He looked down at his desk, and Garrett couldn't tell if he was slightly disheartened, or perhaps hiding a deeper emotion underneath that empty expression. "Very well then...I shall level with thee. There wasn't never anything for thee to steal. Thou had'st been informed of thy...distrust of outsiders, and figured that this would be the only way to coax thee into a visit. I findst mineself in need of thy particular gifts, Garrett. I ask thee again; whilst thy join in my cause to do the Builder's work?"
"Yeah, well it worked." Garrett stood abruptly from this seat, causing the desk to rattle as his chair slammed against it. "And the answer is no, in case you haven't already figured that out. I don't appreciate being tricked, or having my time wasted. Find someone else to do the Builder's holy work."

With that, he abruptly exited the factory building. Karras watched his departure in absolute silence, before looking over at Helen again.

"Oh, I intend to...and make no mistake, Master Thief; you shalt come to know and fear the Builder and his tenants soon enough."