A hot, sultry wind swept through the open doors of the Crimson Phoenix, carrying an air of intrigue. A mysterious figure, cloaked in darkness, stepped inside. The crowd of boisterous gamblers fell into a hushed murmur as the enigmatic stranger made his way towards the bar, navigating through the game tables.

Whispers and judgmental glances followed the veiled man as he approached the counter. Two curious men sitting at a nearby table kept a watchful eye on his every move.

The barkeep, busy pouring a frothy brown ale, glanced up and inquired, "Can I assist you, sir?" His eyes shifted from the mug to the masked face of the visitor. The barkeep's initially friendly expression soured into a scowl.

"I'll have an ale and some information," the stranger replied, placing a piece of parchment on the counter. The barkeep obediently set a tall mug of ale before him, his gaze fixed on the peculiar mask adorned with earthy tones and a hint of battle scars. The once cheerful barkeep's demeanor changed, replaced by bitterness.

"Information, huh? And what if I choose to remain silent?" the barkeep retorted, crossing his arms defiantly.

Undeterred, the cloaked man reached into his garment, retrieved a pouch containing bronze coins, and placed three of them on the counter. "I'm searching for a man named Aldon del Santo. I have a warrant for his arrest," he stated callously, gesturing towards the sketch of del Santo on the parchment. "He's been seen here at the Crimson Phoenix. I need to know where I can find him," the stranger continued, his voice rough and indifferent.

With a switch on his gauntlet, the man revealed his seared chin as the lower portion of his face became visible. He took a swig from the mug and pressed the switch again, concealing his face once more.

The barkeep glanced at the sketch, recognition flickering briefly before fading. "My memory isn't what it used to be," he replied. "I can't help you, son."

Suddenly, the screeching sound of chairs sliding on the crimson tile filled the air as two men from a nearby gambling table rose. One of them firmly gripped the stranger's left pauldron.

"Is this dreg causing you trouble, Klaus?" a deep, booming voice rang out.

Without turning to face the men, the stranger warned, "It's unwise to interrupt a huntsman conducting business. Remove your hand from my armor if you wish to keep it." His reputation preceded him, making it clear that crossing him was ill-advised.

"Did you hear that, Braûn? He wants you to remove your hand from his 'iron jammies'!" the other man, Snurtz, jeered, his nasally guffaw echoing through the room.

"I heard him, Snurtz!" Braûn chimed in, joining the laughter.

"My quarrel isn't with you, gentlemen," the stranger replied, growing annoyed.

"Seems like we have a quarrel with you, though. We don't take kindly to huntsmen lurking around here," growled Braûn as he forcefully turned the stranger around. The stranger's back collided with the oaken counter, causing a loud thud and spilling his ale. Braûn, a hulking figure with hands resembling sledgehammers, appeared ready to deliver a powerful blow.

Braûn seized Dû-Cane by the collar, forcefully pinning him against the bar. Dû-Cane retaliated by striking Braûn's arms and swiftly disabling Snurtz by targeting his foot and nose. With Snurtz incapacitated on the floor, Braûn grabbed Dû-Cane's cloak, causing him to stumble and fall. As Dû-Cane's cloak gracefully descended, Braûn advanced, launching a series of punches. Aware that he couldn't confront Braûn directly, Dû-Cane relied on his wit to outsmart the formidable opponent. Patiently waiting for an opportunity, Dû-Cane capitalized on Braûn's reckless punch and swiftly threw him headfirst into the bar, rendering him unconscious.

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"The man you're after, del Santo, right? You'll find him in the back, playing cards. Take him and leave," shouted Klaus, trembling with fear from behind the bar.

Acknowledging Klaus, Dû-Cane grabbed the parchment from the counter, retrieved his fallen cloak, and secured it around his neck. Tossing two Coppers to the motionless Klaus, he added, "For your troubles."

Dû-Cane hastened toward the rear of the gambling house, hoping that the earlier commotion hadn't alerted del Santo, causing him to escape through the back door. "Today, I'm not in the mood to pursue Aldon del Santo," Dû-Cane contemplated as he made his way to the card-playing area indicated by Klaus. Holding a glimmer of hope, he approached the table where del Santo sat, accompanied by two other gentlemen, engaged in a game of cards, and enjoying their drinks. Dû-Cane suspected the two men to be del Santo's henchmen or bodyguards. The dealer, standing at the table's head, announced, "Please place your Coppers in the center of the table, and may luck favor you." Dû-Cane gestured toward the dealer and then confidently placed ten Aegregian Coppers on the table.

"Deal me in," Dû-Cane declared, taking a seat across from a young man with disheveled brown hair, a cleft chin, and a birthmark on his right cheek. The dealer cast a disapproving glance at Dû-Cane, seemingly unwelcoming him at the table, then shifted his attention to the young man. The man also placed ten Coppers on the table, exchanging approving nods with the dealer and a debonair grin toward Dû-Cane. With bets set, the dealer distributed five cards to each of the four participants, and the game commenced.

Dû-Cane's gaze remained fixed on his hand as he evaluated his cards. Assessing his options, he confidently placed a flush on the table, only to be outmatched by the young man's four of a kind. "Better luck next hand, chap," the young man taunted, collecting the coins from the center.

"We're just getting started. Let's hope your play is as good as your idle flux," Dû-Cane retorted sarcastically.

The man leaned back in his chair, maintaining his debonair grin, then leaned forward again. "The name's Aldon del Santo. I'm the best card player in these parts," he introduced himself. Dû-Cane glanced at del Santo but remained silent.

One of the men abruptly rose from the table and walked away, much to Dû-Cane's relief, as he wasn't one of his bodyguards.

The dealer interrupted the game, announcing that the next round was about to begin. He dealt another set of cards to the remaining three players at the table. Carefully studying their hands, they placed their bets. The man seated to Dû-Cane's left folded his hand in frustration and stormed away, muttering obscenities. Aldon, however, confidently laid down his cards-a three of a kind.

"Hm... not bad, but my full house beats your three of a kind," Dû-Cane remarked dryly.

"Dag gummit!" del Santo shouted, expressing his displeasure by pounding the table with his fist. Dû-Cane calmly collected the coins one by one and added them to his own pile.

"Why don't we make it double or nothing?" Dû-Cane proposed.

"Coppers to the center of the table, gentlemen," the dealer announced, distributing another round of cards.

Aldon studied his hand, chuckled, and flashed a cocky grin at Dû-Cane. "Beat that! I've got a flush," he said, reaching towards the center of the table.

"Heh, you've played a great game. You truly are a gifted gambler," Dû-Cane acknowledged.

Del Santo began to collect his winnings when Dû-Cane placed his cards on the table, atop the stack of coins.

"A flush is a great hand, del Santo. Damn near unbeatable unless you have an Aegregian Royal Flush," Dû-Cane stated.

"Dag gummit!"

"Not bad, for a bail jumper," Dû-Cane stated matter-of-factly. He reached into his cloak and placed the warrant parchment in front of del Santo. "A warrant was issued for your arrest for failing to appear at a meeting with your parole officer, del Santo. You made a poor decision by fleeing to the Hraunsvelter Plateau."

"What is this?" del Santo cried out, sinking into his chair, displaying his dismay. The once proud, debonair smile had faded into a frown.

"It looks like you have a price on your head, and I've come to collect."

"Who are you, and who sent you?"

"Around these parts, few utter my name. Aldon del Santo, as a huntsman of the Wraith Guild, you are under arrest for violating the conditions of your parole."

"Look, there must be some sort of mistake; I don't want to go back to prison."

"I can bring you in, in a pair of binding irons, or I can turn your corpse over to the undertaker at the morgue. I get paid all the same," Dû-Cane replied callously.

As Dû-Cane approached del Santo to restrain him, del Santo drew a dagger from his sheath and lunged forward, attempting to plunge the blade into Dû-Cane's chest. However, the blade recoiled off Dû-Cane's chest plate, creating a shower of sparks. Dû-Cane swiftly seized del Santo's arm and slammed it onto the table, disarming him. With his other hand, he struck del Santo in the jaw, sending him crashing to the floor. Blood trickled from the corner of del Santo's mouth as he staggered to his feet.

Del Santo reached for the blade on the table, but Dû-Cane anticipated his intentions. He swiftly drew a hunting knife and impaled del Santo's right hand. Del Santo let out an agonizing scream as the blade pierced his hand, pinning him to the table.

The proprietor of the Crimson Phoenix emerged from his office, drawn by the disturbance. He stood in astonishment as he witnessed a man with a knife impaled through his hand, while another figure, clad in armor and wearing a mask, loomed over him. Dû-Cane approached the owner and reached into his money pouch, withdrawing a handful of Aegregian Coppers. He placed them in the owner's hand.

"This is official guild business; I was sent to apprehend this fugitive. He attacked me with his blade. Please accept my apologies for the chaos," Dû-Cane explained.

"Take him and leave. You huntsmen are all alike, causing havoc in your pursuit of targets!" grumbled the disgruntled gambling house owner.

Dû-Cane retrieved his hunting knife from del Santo's bloodied and maimed hand. He swiftly secured him in binding irons and collected the scattered Aegregian Coppers from the table, placing them back into his coin pouch. "Start walking!" Dû-Cane commanded as he forcefully pushed del Santo toward the exit.

Before departing with his captive, Dû-Cane made a final pass by the establishment's owner. "I take my leave," he uttered curtly, acknowledging his departure, and left with his hard-earned bounty.