<div style="text-indent:1em;">Across the market-square a chill crept through the air, unnatural to the normally bustling center of the city. The few passersby clung to their own imaginations, their own thoughts, ignorant of what was taking place around them. But to one who could sense the magic deeper than the mundane source of power which kept the country running, a whole new story was taking place. If the magic running through the streets and homes was merely a flicker, the flashes of magic would have been as blinding as the sun. Yet only those involved knew the source of this power, and to all others it was cloaked.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">(Now, I know what you’re thinking: “How did all this come about?” Well, it all started on a midnight stroll through the woods. The air was clear, the moon was full. I was dying to sink my teeth into something. Get it? Because I'm a vampire. Mu-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha… It’s funny.) the man dressed in red thought to himself. Who knows why he was giving his own narration as to the fight, but to each their own... This man was dressed in classic Victorian fashion, including a charcoal suit, leather riding boots, and a flamboyant, intricately knotted red cravat, covered by a full-length, red frock overcoat (similar to the duster coats often associated with cowboys) with cape. He also wears a red fedora hat with a wide, floppy brim and a pair of circular, heavily tinted, wire-framed orange sunglasses with goggle sidings. The man preferred to use his gun, a rare commodity crafted specifically for him, but in this instance he was ordered to use only magic and his own skills to take down his target. And who might this target be?</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">(HEY! This is my narration, and how can you hear my thoughts anyway?) he thinks, before closing off his mind from any further probing by this unnamed source. He catches up to his target, out in the woods near the edge of the city, revealing that it is a man bearing the crest of a prominent family, though which was still unclear to the man. The agent catches wind of the red man, and flees into the city, being pursued and eventually fought. Which brings us back to the moment.</div><br/><div style="text-indent:1em;">The fight between the two men only lasts minutes, but begins to tip the balance of power in the city. What can come of this? THAT...is yet to be decided.</div><br/>_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br/><br/>Titus had lived in Brenshire for most of his life. He knew the city like the back of his hand, which was currently on fire... Then again, working a forge day in and out did involve fire, especially when he was the source of it. Titus had fine control of his own fire, and even could manipulate other fires to a degree. And so each day he would sit by his forge, crafting the various things requested of him.<br/><br/>Today was only slightly different from any other day. The captain of the guard had been investigating the market-square just down the road from his shop, and eventually stopped to ask Titus something.<br/><br/>"The city guard will need large number of swords and halberds prepared for the upcoming coronation. Can you provide before midweek?"<br/><br/>"Does a sweet roll always get stolen? Of course I can. Just have the materials brought by before nightfall."<br/><br/>The captain nodded and left. Titus went back to crafting his own gift for the coronation. After all, it was not every day that a queen was crowned. The door and windows to his shop were left open, and he tuned his fire so it would remove any impurities in the gold.