Right foot hefted on top of the wooden table, the muddy, ebony boot reflected the most light out of any object in the room. Kyros had his arm propped up on his right knee, which was now higher than the table, and his hand held up a small dagger, still enclosed in its leather sheath. The tip of the dagger directly faced the ceiling, and Kyros' hand played it like a toy. A dark fabric outlined his hand, the glove snipped at the fingers, and the rest of it tightly confounded along his lower arm. A glittering silver chain was wrapped from his middle finger down to the bottom of the glove, connected at the ends only by a small golden loop.

The jingling of the chains and a sudden whist of wind was all that was heard before a dull "boom" echoed on the opposite side of the room. A man, scowling under his breath, stood against the wall, hands gripping it uselessly for protection. A silver dagger had appeared one inch left of his head in less than two seconds and the sudden light it had created was enough to cause a temporary blindness of the eye.

Kyros' hand now only held the leather sheath. The dagger on the wall had landed perfectly at the acute point, handle not even throbbing due to the force placed into its flight. Kyros' raven black hair rested motionlessly next to his face, shadowing his facial features. Lifting his foot lightly, Kyros looked at the man, smirked, and smashed his foot down onto the table - all four of its legs collapsing to the ground. The sudden flush of air flung the smooth hair from his face, and an almost mystical glow arose from his body.

Standing at six feet and three inches, Kyros walked dangerously toward the man. His right arm swung from the right, barely touching the man's face before gripping the dagger. As he pulled it out from the wall with one easy motion, he held out his left hand, which seemed quite bland compared to his right, as it was not decorated with any accessories apart from his natural skin. The cowering man dropped a tiny, clinking bag into Kryos' hands and slowly slid down to the floor. Kyros turned towards the door and barged out, his right arm throwing up behind his body a pure, spotless, white cape.

Fastening the small dagger on his belt, Kryos counted the gold within the bag, his fingers testing their sturdiness to confirm authenticity.

"Third one today," he mumbled. "They just don't get it do they? No matter how they plead, I'm still going to take their stupid gold."

Sighing he shook his head and started walking towards a small child. The little boy couldn't have surpassed ten years of age.

"Here you go boy, keep that money in a safer place next time okay?"

The little boy giggled as he held up his palms and Kryos dropped the bag softly into his hands.