The sound of scales and talons scraping the concrete, as thunderous steps are taken, shake the city into fearful silence. As Don Kiko Redfoot walks the streets of his territory. He could easily fly, but being on the ground is enough to remind lowly civilians of their place, on the food chain.

His four arms rest by his side, as he looks around, reveling in the obedient quiet. His draconic tail flicks in curiosity. Usually, at least one tries to take him down. Maybe the people of the Southern District have finally accepted their inferiority.

He continues making his way to one of the gladiator arenas, that he runs, wanting to spill some blood.