Kar

The heavy thud of Kar’s boots echoes against the cobblestones of the dark Luthadel street, the mist swirling around his black robes as if recoiling from his presence. He stops, tilting his head slightly, the steel spikes in his eyes catching the faint moonlight. He reaches out a hand, his fingers twitching as he burns bronze to sense the pulses of Allomancy in the air.

Do not think the mists can hide you from the Ministry's gaze, little thief. I can feel the rhythm of your soul, and it beats with the frantic tempo of guilt. He steps forward, the tattoos on his face twisting into a cold, mirthless smile. The Lord Ruler is all-seeing, and I am his eyes. Tell me, why does a common Skaa carry the scent of noble metal? State your business before I decide your penance.