The arcane city of Galahan was a wonder. Perhaps one of the greatest wonders on all the celestial spheres combined. Many cylindrical pillars of cut white stone soared into the sky with pointy, blue tiled roofs. At their base, lay a perfect utopia for the rich and pompous, with flower beds lining silver cobblestone streets filled with a variety of intertwined merchant stores and housing. Just metres above them, balconies hung drying laundry from one to another, wafting the scent of fresh morning dew all throughout the city. Children ran and frolicked. Finely dressed citizens talked and laughed. Soldiers patrolled the streets with muskets strapped to their backs and sabres hanging from their belts, bringing a sense of real security to the tax paying residents of Galahan. To them, it was paradise.
Although it was a desirable place to live, and security was tightknit, it also meant the calibre of crime was far higher. Criminal activity was low, yes, but the criminals that did operate there were more daring, cunning, and equipped. So, when crime was committed, it was usually by professionals: career criminals who made a living solely off robbing the rich and wealthy. And when professional thieves went into action in Galahan, a higher calibre of force was needed to stop them.
On one particular street of Galahan, a high-end alchemist had a walk-in store filled to the brim with labelled elixirs of all different and wonderful colours; bright blue sparkling vials for easing allergies; dark purple ones for back pain; crimson for headaches, and many, many more. Beyond all the shelves and tables of potions, way at the back of the store, was an archway with a shimmering blue barrier of arcane energy blocking the way. A metal sign had red engravings written on it saying: LISCENCE REQUIRED FOR ENTRY.
An older woman was stood at the store's main desk reading a book on alchemical ingredients when the front door opened, ringing a bell and thrusting the merchant into sale mode.
"Welcome to Remedees! Name your ailment and I'm sure we'll have something for it."
The patron was oddly wide eyed and wore a smart white shirt and black waistcoat. He smiled eerily with unmoving pupils and walked up to the desk. Then he turned away from her to inspect the store and its contents. "I've been having terrible nightmare's lately, Doc. I was hoping you'd have something to help me sleep better."
The door went again, and another patron waltzed in with a ding. Her eyes were wide also, but the merchant didn't take any notice.
"Welcome to Remedees! Please browse a moment while I deal with this gentleman! I'll be with you in just a moment. Now, Sir, nightmares, was it?" the merchant went to place a hand on his back to guide him, but he flinched and swung his face further away from hers.
"Please, ma'am, I do not like to be touched. Take no offence."
"None taken at all! Do forgive me! Right this way."
The other patron was already on the far side of the store by the restricted archway, and when the merchant was fully distracted, they quickly took something from the small satchel at their waist and stuck it against the wall next to the humming blue barrier. After a few seconds, a small explosion shook the entire room, knocking vials onto the floor and splashing their contents into mixed pools of browns and yellows. The merchant screamed and was struck by the male patron with a handheld shocking device, rendering her unconscious. The two patrons looked to one another across the room. Their clothes and emotionless faces wobbled like the surface of disturbed liquid, slowly phasing away until tattered tunics and masks were revealed underneath: smooth, shiny red metal face covers with a purple handprint spread over them.
The pair moved silently into the restricted room where the small explosion had blasted a hole in the wall. Whatever they used had done so in such a way that nothing inside was broken. They started loading up, placing unlabelled vials into the small, bottomless bags on their belts.
Outside the store, the commotion had alerted several citizens. None of them knew what was happening within, but the light rumble of the explosion was enough to make them cautious and seek out the authorities. Not long after, a squad of musket wielding guards jogged to a halt the store's front, where they aimed their weapons at the entrance and windows. A small crowd had gathered, too, but they knew to keep a safe distance.
"This is the Galahan Guard!" There was no response. "Is everyone okay?" Still nothing. "We're coming in!"
"We're going inside?" whispered one of the other guards. "What if it is a robbery? What if they're armed?"
The superior officer glowered at him. "What if someone's hurt?"
"We should wait for an Arbiter!" another guard insisted.
"If someone in there needs our help, I'll never forgive myself for being too late," resolved the officer, and she crept forward with the butt of her musket against her shoulder.
Two steps were all she managed before a hissing cloud of smoke tumbled out of the store, sending the guards into a coughing frenzy. The heavy patter of sprinting feet rushed through the cloud as the guards stumbled out of it, waving their hands in front of their faces.
"Someone... get an Arbiter!" spluttered the officer, clutching her chest in discomfort.
Someone else ran through the cloud then, disturbing it in their path. An ocean-blue hooded and cloaked figure in a smart, grey waistcoat underneath exited the cloud in pursuit of the perpetrators. His nose and mouth were tightly covered by the inner collar of his cloak like a half-mask, and his convictive blue eyes were dead set on the fleeing crooks as he ran with an unyielding stamina.
The crowd let out a gasp as they parted for the thieves, shortly followed by the cloaked crusader. Some cheered and others clapped while muttering to each other.
"An Arbiter's already on their tail," one said.
"That's Galahan's finest for you," added another.
The guard officer had recovered with her squad and ordered two of them to check inside the store before taking the other two with her to aid the pursuit: more so for damage control than to actually help catch the thieves. If anything, they'd be a hindrance if they tried to get involved.
Further down the street, the cloaked law-bringer was gaining on the crooks. The one who set the explosive was lagging behind, and her pursuer capitalised on it. With a gloved hand, they pulled a small black wand out from the inside of their cloak and came to a sudden stop. A small granite sphere hovered mystically at its tip, and with a sudden blue spark, the sphere fired forward with unbelievable speed.
The Arbiter wafted his wand right, then left, and the granite sphere, about the size of a marble, mimicked his movements, slamming into the lagging crook and thrusting them against a stone wall. Sparks briefly surged from the sphere and the thief collapsed to the ground.
"I'm leaving them with you, Captain!" said the cloaked law-bringer, who continued his pursuit. His voice was abnormally distorted, changing in pitch as if something was aiding it.
The guard officer came to a wheezing stop with her squad beside the knocked-out perpetrator. She shook her head in disbelief at not only the Arbiter's stamina, but the male thief's, too, who didn't seem bothered about their accomplice being apprehended.
The wand's sphere flew swiftly through the air, weaving in and out of Galahan's citizens until it found its way back to its mystical perch. The Arbiter stopped again and once more rose the small but effective weapon. The thief looked over his shoulder and knew it was bad news. He slid to a halt and clicked one heel against the other, lighting up the soles of his light metal boots with a pulsating blue glow and sprinted vertically up a nearby building – much to the public's astonishment.
The sphere fired toward him with an igniting spark, but just before it could connect, it stopped suddenly in its tracks like it was at the end of an ethereal tether, and the thief vanished over the rooftops of Galahan city. The cloaked law-bringer's brows angled inward as his sphere returned to the wand and was replaced into a pocket inside their cloak.
The guard captain from the potion store soon came up from behind them in a fluster. "Arbiter Solace! I'll contact the barracks and lockdown the city. He won't get far."
The cloaked law-bringer replied with their distorted voice, "There's no need to cause a city-wide panic, Captain. We know how the Putrid Palm operates. Leave it to me."
The captain seemed confused, but knew better than to doubt the Arbiter, who reached into his cloak and took out a pair of normal looking spectacles.
"I didn't know you wore glasses, Arbiter Solace?"
"I don't. They're fresh out of the arcane research department of criminal justice. It's time to see if they work."
He put them on, and through its enchanted glass he could see the thief's boot-prints as ethereal pink stains. They slowly secreted a similarly coloured gas on the wall just up the street.
The captain was waiting with anticipation. "Well?"
"They work," confirmed Solace, but the captain seemed disappointed with the Arbiter's lack of details.
While the captain went to disperse the crowds, Solace wandered over to the boot-prints on the wall. His head tilted upwards, following their path. If only his wand didn't have such a limited range, justice would already have been closer to being served.
Solace crouched and his cloak began folding over itself on the cobblestone at his feet. He closed his eyes and began to concentrate. He wasn't fond of exerting so much power, which was possible since Solace was incredibly gifted when it came to the arcane. It did, however, take a major toll on his body when not channelling his power though devices like his wand. But he had to deliver justice. There was no other path.
From the crouched position, he suddenly leapt fifteen feet off the ground, leaving a waft of magical energy in his wake. He passed several balconies and landed on the roof where the thief had disappeared over. The Arbiter's vision doubled for a moment, but it soon corrected itself, and with a light shake of his head, followed the tracks over to the next street.
Glowing boot-prints could be seen on the other roof across the gap. Luckily, the street was narrow enough to leap from one side to the other without the need to exert his power. After a run-up, he jumped, his cloak flowing behind him as he landed with a roll beside the boot-prints. They led him to the base of a tower: one of the abandoned arcane towers that loomed over the city. An experiment-gone-wrong had destroyed everything within, and the city had yet to get around to renovating it.
A door sized portion of the tower was glowing the same ethereal pink as the boot-prints. Solace went to place a gloved hand on the stone wall to try and assess it but phased right through. With little to no fear for what was on the other side, the Arbiter waltzed in without pause.
Inside was a dimly lit, dust-coated room littered with half-torn, half-burnt parchment scribbled with fragmented sketches and notes. The thief was rummaging around his bottomless satchel on a table when he quickly turned upon hearing the cloaked law-bringer enter, knocking over a lantern that housed a small, luminous stone. "Shit, man! This was supposed to be safe!" he cried, his mask now off and on the table behind him.
"Correct," agreed the Arbiter. "Galahan is supposed to be safe. Safe from having their hard-earned property stolen from them."
The thief took offence to the truth and yelled an aggressive, face scrunched, "Fuck you, wobble-mouth!" before clinking his heels together and scrambling for the wall, hoping to escape up the winding staircase that lined the tower. Solace's wand was already out, and its sphere found the thief's side and slammed him into the wall with the weight of a war-horse. A short zap ensued, and the criminal flopped to the floor as the sphere came back to the wand, which was calmly returned to Solace's inner cloak.
"Galahan will not be tainted by your greed. I would first see it burn."