He's the richest man in the city, perhaps the world. No one is able to count all of his assets, not even him. I've been hired to steal his most treasured possession, locked deep within his personal vault.
Her promised payment was not small; it was more than enough to fund a retirement. But that wasn't why I accepted her offer. It wasn't the Lollobrigida-esq beauty's enchanting eyes that seduced me into this fool's errand, either, nor was it her perfect raven hair. All were tempting, yes, but the real temptation was the chance to go down in history, to do what they said can't be done, and to succeed where countless others have failed.
The equipment I needed was expensive: Ruthenium-coated caltrops; a custom-made maglock passkey, capable of opening only one door; grenades of various types; gamma scopoline; neuro stun; narcojet; a rocket launcher; and various anchored spells, the casters of which will probably try to have me killed once they've learned that I've painted this job with their signatures simply to cover my own hoop. Most expensive of all was the intelligence, blueprints of a building created by the most paranoid man on Earth, the secret identity of his loyal masked bodyguard, and all of their schedules. I could have brought others onto the job; I'm not greedy. I didn't because I wanted the glory, all of it. The money was practically meaningless.
The initial entry into the twelve-story money-bin was easy. The two night guards on duty fell to nacrojet darts, blissfully unaware of my presence. The owner's paranoid distrust of magicians ensured that there was no spirit presence to hinder me. I easily synchronized myself and my invisibility to the exterior ward, a foot-thick wall a the building's entrance.
I levitated through narrow corridors, dropping caltrops behind me in preparation for the cyborg's inevitable arrival. The moneybin was like a maze, but I'd already memorized its secrets. The path was clear.
Behind me, I heard the sound of an exploding tire. I had tripped an alarm and the masked cyborg had found me. Its unicycle leg found my caltrops, too, and it lay helpless on the ground, trying vainly to get it. "Stop, miscreant", he cried. I threw a flash-bang " or face the wrath of -" the flash-bang exploded. I followed it with two neuro stun grenades and dropped a single white six-sided die, an anchor for a physical barrier, onto the ground. The barrier sealed the hallway, keeping me safe from the gas. The cyborg vainly pressed random buttons on his vest, to with hilarious effects, as he weakened and passed into unconsciousness.
The keycard worked like a charm, opening the interior door. A swimming pool full of money lay before me, complete with a diving board. The vault's inner ward was more difficult than the one around the door. Synchronizing with it was out of the question, so I poked it with a small hand-carved poking stick, an anchor for a purchased shatershield spell. It brought the ward down. I stepped though the doorway and into the vault.
My target laied in the center of the pool of cash, on a high pedestal and covered with a glass dome. The coin contained power, that much was obvious, I could feel the magic emanating from it; but what kind of power it contained was impossible for me to identify. It was unlike anything I have seen before.
I floated down to the coin, reached out for it. The third eye tattooed on my back burned with recognition, but an instant too late. The old man was there, but he wasn't my enemy until he saw me going for the coin and resolved to strike me with his cane; and he did. His nephews were there as well, but I was prepared. I called upon the spirits I has waiting and sent a signal to the smart firing platform outside.
As the old man advanced on my to strike a second blow, a flying octopus made of living fire materialized behind him, Jarl, my friend and ally. So did four others. Jarl wraped his tendrils around the rich old man, holding him tight and burning him slightly. Three other flying ephemeral elemental octopuses did the same to the boys.
And a loud explosion rocked the room as the rocket fired form outside blasted a hole in the vault.
The fifth spirit, an octopus made of air, which had no name, wrapped its tentacles around me and lifted me up. I took the coin and it flew me to safety, and to fame, through the hole.