A local street tough with a reputation for solving problems. Permanently.


The stink of foreign incense and spices married easily enough with the strange twanging of oddly shaped stringed instruments, and the all too familiar swaying curves of dancing girls. Still, none of it set quite well in your bellies; not the hot grass water or the sweet clear liquid they called wine. The Den of the White Dragon was a foreign place in every way imaginable save one – it still valued gold.

“And where there is gold” started Churi, one of the foreign devils who served food and drinks here, “there is opportunity.” He smiled that practiced smile that masked more than misunderstandings of the local customs. With a series of short head nods and bows he retreated from the table, leaving behind a pile of oddly appetizing smelling vegetables and meats slathered in a pungent sauce designed to disguise the poor quality of the ingredients. Hunger got the best of you, and after the first few mouthfuls the flavor started to grow on you.

“Sallo!” exclaimed a musical voice from one of the dancing girls. She made a few long steps to cross the distance to the doorway and threw her arms around the newcomer, a local by his complexion and hair. And a man who knew his way around a fight, given his look. Sallo embraced her carefully, scanning the room for someone, and then relented to her attempts to draw his lips down to hers. The two disappeared behind a bright hued curtain dividing the main room from one of the private booths.

Churi, having once again appeared at the table while you were momentarily distracted commented, “If he’s not careful then he end up dead.”

Noting your lack of understand he stabbed a stubby finger in the direction of the booth, “Boss’ daughter. It is taboo. Especially for his kind.” Churi grumbled, frustrated at having a difficult time finding the words to continue in the common tongue, and simultaneously realizing he had said too much.

“If you are smart, you would steer clear of him. He walks under the shadow of a black cat. His time will come soon. Quick, and brutal. And when it does, everyone around him will die too.” Churi gathered some cups, their contents left tasted but not drank, and returned muttering to the kitchen.

Sallo… that’s the guy you were looking for all right.