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Rucks sat on a set of stone steps, he wasn't sure where he was - it happened sometimes. In his hand were two balls of clay, slowly but surely moulding into spheres. They left a sticky residue on Rucks' hand but he didn't mind, he needed the clay spheres for something more important than retaining his hands dryness. The steps he sat on were cold to the touch, sometimes he still felt it seeping through his robes when he payed attention to how he'd forgotten the coldness. Soon, meaning around an hour to Rucks the two spheres were complete and he began to cast hi spell. Covering them with one hand he changed them to stone - coincidentally their original material - and then into iron or steel. He wasn't a metallurgist and he wasn't fussy. One of the balls cracked and then split, a frequent occurrence in this task, clay was too difficult to keep consistent, if it wasn't dense enough the ball split much like this one.

Sighing he held the cracked ball above a jar he had been carrying around, turning it to dust so it gathered on top of a growing pile. Unless there were a shortage of pebbles in the world Rucks could sell it off to a blacksmith - pure iron dust was rather useful. More so if it was offered melted down already. Out of his robe pocket he pulled another metal ball, almost exactly the same as the one he had just mad end e started to grind them together in his hand. It was a shitty ritual, it annoyed people around him when the balls scrapes together and made an ungodly noise but it helped Rucks clear his thoughts. 

He stood up, continuing to grind to balls in his had. The step was too cold for him to keep sitting on despite it being a relatively warm day. He picked his hat up from where he sat, it was old and raggedy. The last thing he had to remember that old man by, the guild insignia he had sewn into it was starting to fade slightly and parts of it were coming loose. He was never any good at sewing, now he though about it he wasn't very go of most arts and craft. He put the hat on and pulled it over his face, he didn't need to - his mask concealed his facial featured all too well but it still felt right to him. He chuckled to himself quietly as he left the alleyway, the old mans habits had worn off if him more than he realised sometimes.