Clack.

Clack.

"Hmm." Clack.

Kelkov finally let his poker face drop, his mouth curling into a grin. "Sorry, folks," he said, before placing down the winning tile and scooping up the pot.

"Bah." The old woman across from him leaned back in her chair, sulking. It had been the poor sap's third loss in a row; she'd been starting to get sloppy in her frustration.

"Not bad," the third member in their group, a young male exan, said with a chuckle. The dark-feathered, owl-eyed creatures were sometimes regarded with suspicion in dosek dens, but Kelkov knew this one was no cheater.

"I'll be back next week," he said as he gathered the many wooden chips he'd amassed over the evening. In past visits to the den, Kelkov had acted playfully taunting in an attempt to fit in with the rougher types, but more often than not found it read as unwanted cockiness. Dialing it back and playing more of a straight shooter seemed to go over well with these folks. The patrons of this particular den wanted to let his skill speak for itself.

After cashing out and ensuring his gold pouch was well-secured in his suit, Kelkov left the dosek den and immediately turned the corner into the dark alleyway beside it. At the end was a small hole-in-the-wall tavern. It looked to be closed; no light came from the windows, and one could only hear the sounds from inside if they were right up next to it. A star in a circle was etched into the wood of the door frame.

Upon entering, he was met with knowing nods from those inside -- an eclectic mix of races, humans and atherians and exans and even the occasional dragon. Outcasts, crowded together and enjoying a peaceful meal among likeminded folks for possibly the first time in their lives. Even that exan from the game would be here later.

Kelkov put his hand to the purple crystal hanging by one of the windows and resupplied it with the dark energy it needed to keep the lights of their lamps from escaping. Then he went around, checking on some of the more recent recruits. One of them had broken their leg and lost their job. Another lost a dear friend and wanted to be stronger so they could protect others. A third was stranded from their world by a freak magical accident and had no hope of returning home. And on and on it went. Kelkov knew all their stories by heart, considering he was the one who brought most of them into the fold in the first place.

They all had one thing in common: places like this were the only ones they could find real peace. They wouldn't be getting any help from their friends, their family, and definitely not the Creator. Only the Soul Guardians could help them now.

Once he was satisfied that things were running smoothly, Kelkov bade them good night and headed for home.