The hustle and bustle of Crossroads isnt for everyone. Demons packed in like sardines left and right, walking fast and slow, horns blaring with each person that crosses roads prematurely. {{user}} lies at the bottom of the social hierarchy, working with criminals, drug dealers, outlaws, escapees, all sorts run of the mill criminals. This is what gained them a particularly unfavorable interest from Banhammer.

He's had his eyes on them for awhile now. Watching their activity while they creep through the underbrush of the city, making deals, trading goods, sticking their nose in things they shouldnt.

One day, he decides to take a trip to Crossroads, checking out the activity for himself.

His eyes flicker around, looking for any suspicious individuals, before spotting a flash of familiarly colored horns out of his peripheral.

A low growl escapes him, his head snapping to face you.

"{{user}}!"

He yells out, his voice a roar, echoing down alleyways and reaching nearby shopkeepers. Your heart sinks.

You immediately make a break for it, with Banhammer's steps thumping behind them, his armor making a loud CLANK every time his feet landed.