The coins clinked together in her lunargent-clad hand, rough leaden discs the size of half-dollars with black dust worn into them. The five coins were the distilled corruption of magical power, the left-hand spiral path that drove mundane people mad and maho to new heights of hubris. Their creation was a closely guarded secret of the Obsidian Cabal, one they would kill for without a second thought to keep.
    Clink. Clink. The woman who held the coins wore silver armor that shone like the full moon in the light and glittered with starfields in its shadows. Two great stag antlers rose above her long blue-white hair while entirely black eyes regarded the entrance to the Hermetic sanctum. In her other hand was a bow shaped like the thinnest crescent moon and made of something blacker than black, a round slash in the night.
    Clink. Clink. Around her, cloaked by moonshadow and magic, gathered other maho filled with purpose. The entrance to the sanctum was wholly mundane looking; that was the point. It was an accountant's office, closed because it wasn't time for taxes to be filed. Located in an industrial district that most people avoided unless they had business there; so it was deserted at night. Metallia Luna smiled. The Hermetics were a long way from reinforcements.
    Clink. Clink.