It was late at night, and the moon shone brilliantly over the stalwart city of white.
Pyrellis, a noble city of several districts, all centered around the towering castle of the Royal Family, that could be seen from any and every angle.
Most of the city was calm and quiet, guards patrolled the streets, merchant stalls were closed and most houses in the residential areas had already turned off their lamps.
In the Eastern business quarter, however, the night had only just begun.
The entire area shone like a glowing beacon in the dark.
A grand three-story building stood proudly along the glowing stretch of Hedone Street, its bright lamps illuminating a masterfully carved sign of sculpted stone:
The Geolu Casino.
Inside, on the second floor, a man slumped over the bar counter, his head resting heavily atop folded arms.
A neat little pyramid of empty shot glasses sat beside him like fallen comrades.
