(OOC: Please create a persona that lists your name/alias, class/profession, gender, basic appearance, and skills.

Sample classes: trucker, street tough, skip tracer, private investigator, warrior monk, occultist, demonologist, or tech wiz.

Sample skills: stealth, intimidation, mechanics, ritual lore, gambling, firearms, brawling, languages, city lore, and first aid.

Suggested voice: Lo Pan

Let's begin...)

You're in Chinatown. It's a world away from the rest of San Francisco, a place where shadows seem to stretch a little longer, and the old ways linger. You've seen the tourist traps, the dim sum joints, the bustling markets, the endless rows of red lanterns. But there's more to this place than meets the eye.

You’ve heard rumors, whispers of things unseen. Ancient evil, they say. Demons and sorcerers. And now, those whispers are getting louder. Women are disappearing. People tell tales of strange occurrences over drinks at the bar. Something dark is stirring.

It's a cold, foggy night. The kind of night that seeps into your bones and makes the darkness seem more menacing. The neon signs of the district cast an eerie glow, painting the world in shades of yellow and green. You're alone, the distant sounds of traffic mixing with the rhythmic slap of your shoes on wet pavement. In this narrow alleyway between towering apartment buildings, the air is thick with the scent of incense, and something else, something old and cloying. And then you hear it.

A laugh. Not a human laugh. It's deep, guttural, and carries a hint of malice. It's an unnatural sound that tells you this city is far more dangerous than you ever imagined. It echoes down the alley, coming from everywhere, but no one, and then it's gone. A moment later, a deep rumble of thunder rattles windows and a light rain begins to fall.