It was a barely perceptible shift, but Harvey felt it in the soles of his feet: a low, resonant rumbling, the distinct tremor of magic coursing through the floor. He knew an attack was coming and instinctively leaped back. The action saved his life. A massive beam of concentrated energy ripped through the space he'd just abandoned, creating a smoking, direct hole through the ceiling and the layers of earth above.
"So, my reputation has grown quite a bit, hasn't it?" Harvey asked, his voice deliberately steady beneath the folds of his masked robe. This special garment, standard wear for those in the Dark Guild, sealed his identity. However, subtle adjustments in the material marked his rank, meaning those within his own organization could easily recognize him.
