"Talking does sound-" A brick crossed his field of vision, putting an abrupt halt to the sequence of thoughts he was beginning to outline in his head.

A brick. It clattered noisily across the cobblestone, chips breaking off as it bounced once or twice. Eythen traced its errant flight back to the source, not even needing to follow the sound of the...admittedly pitiful..shouting that had trailed it. Right back to the slight and shaky skaa girl.

Somehow, it made sense that it was her. The how or the why eluded the blacksmith, but he cared not to question it. "Cohorts after all, is it? Not the tightest of working relationships, it would seem..

"Suits me just fine, though." Dropping any aggressive aura he might have been maintaining...save for what was natural from his sheer stature, anyway, Eythen calmly crossed the cobblestones and cleaned up the damaged brick. "Would have been quite troublesome to track you down after you'd run off, after all. You want to talk, good sir? Fine, let's talk."

Heading back towards the smithy, Eythen cast a glance over his shoulder. "I assume you can work your mouth while you work a broom? That shattered window isn't going to clean itself up, and I'd rather not have the guards or the Obligators asking too many questions."

There was no way of stopping it. The blacksmith cringed as the window shattered, shards of glass scattering to the winds. It would have been a far more grievous instance had it been one of his own creations, but regardless the inconvenience of now needing a window and his roof fixed..That was enough destruction for one night. He wasn't about to have two pewterarms rampaging about the city.

It would likely make more work for him, certainly, but someone could get hurt. Particularly that injured girl if the thug with the rat caught up to her..

Blue arcs exploded from his chest, lashing to the frame of the shattered window and catapulting him through it shortly after a light jump. He quelled bronze with no hesitation, raising the shielding bubble of copper instead. He wouldn't need the pulses to track them, not as tin brightened the night, both sound and sight, thinning the mists around him.

The man hadn't gotten far, even in his pewter-fueled dash. Based upon the words he had uttered before departing, it was likely he wanted to be chased, lead Eythen away from the girl and lose him in the mist covered streets a thief would know better.

The man also foolishly assumed Eythen only had iron at his disposal. Blue lines in a dazzling array, picking and choosing careful, practiced pushes and pulls completed a graceful arching through the night air, and the blacksmith landed somewhat firmly a few paces ahead of the fleeing figure.

"Like this, 'friend'?"

Pewter. The both of them. Almost simultaneously. He had suspected the girl, but this man? Skaa allomancers weren't even supposed to exist, officially, and were rare at that. But here were three right in the same room.

Now was not the time to ponder the odds of that happening. The girl was making a mad dash for the window, and it wasn't until Eythen began to reach to try and stop her (for both her and the window's sake) that he realized just what a foolish idea it was.

He had expected the man to run for it as she had, fueling his flight with pewter. He had not expected a swift blow to the backs of his knees, sending him staggering. The impact ratted the bars by which he bound himself. Pewter would have rendered it an ineffectual attack. Pewter would have allowed him to keep his balance, swing the odds heavily back in his favor.

Pewter.....wasn't an option. Not now, not EVER again. The smith got his feet back under his body, and he began to try and reassess the situation. This man...this thug...he knew how to fight. Combined with the metal powering his body to greater heights, it negated the advantage Eythen had in sheer size alone. Hopefully he would just use the off-balanced state to make his own escape, and not press for another attack. If not..

A hammer flew across the room, resounding with a soft smack as it struck Eythen's waiting palm, fingers curling around the handle.

Well, NOW the bellows were certainly pumping. The situation grew more heated by the moment, and something stirred inside the smith. It almost felt like...excitement? That would be absurd, though. Who got excited over something such as this?

" Call me insane, but I get the impression your....daughter...is not too pleased to see you, sir. Maybe it is the way she is growling at you? Trouble at home?" He had to play his cards carefully. If his suspicions were right, this could be a valuable opportunity. If wrong...well. He would be a dead man.

And enough people had died recently, in Eythen's opinion.

" Still not convinced you are related, for the record. You and I have more in common physically than you and she. But I do think I believe you about not being thieves. If you were, I think you would be dead already, given your 'success' at sneaking into my business tonight." Seams creaked in the awkward stillness as Eythen shrugged his broad shoulders purposefully. It was a thinly veiled attempt at intimidation. The man was hiding something, the lack of fear in his eyes...something Eythen had become accustomed to seeing because of his unusual stature, spoke as much.

"That leaves me with a young lady in no condition to be running about the rooftops of a cold, uncaring city at night, very unhappy to see a man trying to stealth her away into the mists with as little commotion as possible..

Tell me, is this how the brothels operate these days? Plucking sick and injured young women out of the alleys, nursing them back to health, and making them 'pay' for their treatment?" The nonchalance dropped from his face and voice, eyes becoming cold as frost. His frame tensed as his crossed arms slowly lowered.

"I think I liked you more as a thief, little man.." Dozens upon dozens of lines of blue scattered from his chest like the spray of sparks off freshly-struck steel. Selecting the one needed most at this moment for shattering the uncomfortable tension, Eythen tugged.

To any eyes other than his own, the deadbolt of the door slid on its own, clunking audibly into the frame.

"Your daughter, eh? I am very sorry to hear she is missing, sir." Eythen replied coolly as the rodent scampered into his home. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but there was a certain charm to it, and it was certainly no rat either.

Eythen wasn't buying it, though. Yes, the man seemed genuinely concerned for someone, but a daughter? At this time of night? If he had a little girl missing in the mists, he would be raising all sorts of ruckus pounding on doors trying to find her. Calmly knocking on the one door in the district that just happened to have a female visitor this late? Eythen was a little naive, but he wasn't born yesterday. This was all too convenient.

The fire within his belly blazed as bronze came to life. He had his suspicions of the girl already, it would not hurt to know what he was up against if either did, in fact, turn out to have a few tricks up their sleeve.

He did, after all.

"Why don't you come in? I think I have a spirit or two that might calm your nerves, and perhaps my other guest knows more than I do. Besides, your pet already invited itself in, it seems." Eythen's hand was on the man's shoulder, gentle but firm, ushering him into the hallway before he had much time to object.

The door clicked shut.

"So tell me; Is this the part of the heist where you use some sob story to try and escape the failed robbery?" The sentence was delivered with all the nonchalance of someone inquiring about the weather, as the blacksmith turned to his 'guests', thick arms crossing over a powerful chest. "Are things going to get rough if I don't let you go quietly? Because frankly, I don't see much of a family resemblance.."

Iron and steel were at the ready. To its master, this home was a weapon, any number of potentially harmful objects ready to leap to his aid at a whim. The pewter behemoth raged against its cage as well, itching to be unleashed. Eythen prayed to whatever goodness remained in this world it would not come to that, but then...

It was their move.

"A friend of yours?" Eythen joked lightly at the all-too-unusual rapping at the door he had just been approaching. He doubted the attempt at humor would ease her caution any, the girl was like an ironclad fortress. He did not even need tin to hear the piquing of her stomach's interest at the mention of food, yet she remained stalwart.

He supposed that was for the best, though. At least for her. She was undoubtedly a street skaa, and a cautious skaa was a living one. Even in his position of comparative luxury, this held true.

And it was with caution he reached to open the door, overlooking his stock of metals. Even an inquisitor would know how to knock, he was sure. Just a matter of whether they had the manners to.

"Thanks for dropping in, been awhile since I had a visitor. If I had known you were coming, I could have prepared a light meal." A soft laugh, pushing away from the worktable and rising to his feet. "The remaining steak likely would have made for passable baywraps, I think....Anyway, let me show you to the proper exit, hm?"

"Angry? Of course I am. We live in a world where even skilled workers such as myself are second class citizens because an uncaring, oppressive 'god' says we are while he plays favoritism. A world that was said to once be bright and full of life and color is now nothing but ash and depression." Eythen replied quietly, voice full of rising contempt.

"Compared to that, what is a broken roof? That, at least, I can fix....Anger is like a fire. If you let it grow too much, it will consume everything."

"Yes, you have made that rather clear. Hence why I am not attempting to touch you. I am still no less concerned for the girl who just fell through my roof. I suppose I am a bit peculiar like that."

He chuckled softly, setting the sheet of tin he had been bending down. "Ah, but father would be shocked by my manners, as you just pointed out. My name is Eythen, I am the owner of the Goldheart Forge...that would be the building to which you so graciously added a skylight, of course."

"I would imagine you are in a bit of pain, possibly suffering from broken ribs at the very least, so frankly I am more than a bit confused as to your resistance to aid." Replying just as quietly with a shrug of his broad shoulders, Eythen turned on the stool to toy with something on the end of the table she was not occupying.

"Granted, I do not make a habit of falling through roofing, so perhaps I should defer to you on that."

"Well, you would be in luck there. I am a blacksmith, not a killer. The only things I beat on are metals." Getting up from the stool, he moved a ways across the room and grabbed another, setting it on the far end of the workbench. Re-seating himself, he gestured towards the piece of furniture.

"I think you'll find that a bit more comfortable than my workbench. Since it seems unscathed, I do feel compelled to ask if you yourself are unharmed."

"None taken." And there it was. The shriek, the terror in the eyes. He swore he was going to begin wearing lanterns on pauldrons just so nobody was ever frightened by his looming shadow ever again. For now, he just sat down on one of the stools. He was always less imposing while seated.

Granted, he was just being foolish. Given her reaction and the...surprising speed with which she had shied away considering her apparent condition, his appearance was likely a very small factor.

And then, just like that, she seemed frail and weak again, just as he had found her, the sudden burst of strength leaving her body heralded by the return of labored breathing and grimaces at aching movements. It was almost as if..

Shaking his head, Eythen shrugged softly. "I cannot say I am unaccustomed to startling people." He said with a small smile. "So again I ask, what can I do for you tonight?

"A locking roof. Interesting proposal, admittedly. And yes, I did notice the newly remodeled state of my roof, thank you. Trying to decide if I like it or not." A few hearty pumps of the bellows, and the forge was casting a warm glow throughout the room, enough to remove the need for tin, though he still went about lighting a lamp or two for the sake of his 'guest'. Not everyone was accustomed to working solely by forge-light, after all.

"So. It is a bit late, as I said, but what do I owe the pleasure of this visit to? Here on business? I am running a special on shutter hinges, if you find yours damaged for some strange reason. Seems to happen fairly often around here." Room sufficiently lit, Eythen rose back to his full height and moved towards the worktable, offering a hand to help the struggling girl off of it. By the look of her, one hand would be all he needed. It was a fairly common problem for many a skaa, but when in the world had this girl last had a meal?

Carry the two...or is it rounded off? No, wait, that's only if..

Eythen groaned quietly, a deep and resonating rumble, as he cupped his forehead in a hand. He loathed mathematics, with every fiber of his being. At least, the kind involved with finance and bookkeeping. He had committed to memory several dozen formula for metals, allomantic or otherwise, and those sort of calculations came easily to him. But this....this was like trying to explain metallurgy to a koloss.

Or so he assumed. Having never had the displeasure of meeting one, he only had the assumptions of their base intellects to go off of. It was a terrible thing to do, really. Maybe they were quite intelligent, and merely never given the chance to express it as such due to their supposed brutish, horrific appearances..Eythen knew all too well how it felt to be judged by appearance alone, as well as what one was supposed to be. Did koloss feel the same remorse over being so judged?

The self-indulgent philosophizing was cut abruptly short by a sudden clashing of sounds that needed no tin to be heard...though likely it was involved. Rising from his seat in the back office of the forge, a cloud rose around him as a hammer sailed soundlessly into his palm, calloused fingers wrapping around the handle. Someone was breaking into his forge...his home.

Someone was about to have their night ruined.

There were no heralding creaks or groans of woodwork as he made his way into the room; he knew every board and nail in this building and how to move just so across them. A sprinkling of tin into his internal fire ensured he needed no flame to see clearly, but what he saw gave him pause.

Where he expected some thief or thieving crew to be looting his stock or perhaps searching for a safe to crack, instead he found a young woman, laying haphazardly on one of his worktables. Judging by the hole in the roof directly above her through which the mists flowed in and began to swirl about the room, as well as the slow, almost agonized motions with which she attempted to move...this was no intentional forced entry.

Hammer lowering to his side, he took a more audible series of steps closer, cautiously, observing her ash-stained form...slight as it was. A thief, perhaps, but either a very poor one, or one having a worse night than he had intended to give an intentional one. Her breath was ragged...a bit raspy even..and with a stoke to the forge within him, the tin revealed darkly colorful marring on her skin, all but hidden beneath the ash.

"I have a door for visitors, you know....granted it is generally locked this late at night." He began quietly, attempting to make his voice as lacking in malicious intent as one could be. Moving across the room slowly, the hammer was set down quietly upon a bench, and he began to stoke the smithy's forge for light and warmth.