[h2][color=silver]Elias[/color][/h2]
Another day, another gray sky. Off in the distance, a tanned Asian man hawked clothing in a foreign tongue, while druggies stood huddled behind a trash can, sharing joints and shivering. It was summer, and Elias felt like wasting away again. Sitting as West on a sickly green mah-jong table, the brown haired man took a drag of the cigarette, before letting out a long, indifferent sigh. White smoke drifted up, and his eyes caught a pudgy toddler standing there in the open, taking a piss in a puddle.

Sucks to be the dude that steps in that puddle later.

Another drag, and he turned his attention to the state of the bored once more. XiaoLang was always a wily bastard, but the clocksmith wasn’t having too much luck with the tiles in the past few rounds. Looked to be frustrated as well. Danielle had a mean poker face, but she liked to cash in on small wins too often. Low risk, low reward, low threat. And good ol’ Akio was sitting nice and prim, the butcher’s thick hands resting on his belly as he smiled. Confidence was nice, and the man did have a substantial lead, but…
Fortune favored the bold. The tiles were lined up, the Arhats assembled. Gray ashes formed at the glowing tip, as Elias placed two hands the side of his row of tiles, a spark of amusement as he watched confidence, apathy, and frustration turn into something else.

[b]“Four Kongs. Shi Ba…”[/b]

[i]“Welcome to Arcadia.”[/i]

[b]“…Luo Han.”[/b]

He pushed the tiles down, and they scattered onto the dirty wooden floor of the carriage.

A bulky midget of a man, looking like a roided up madman, ran past, shouting orders that didn’t make much sense at all, before brandishing a big sword. He charged into a group of similarly short, but much scrawny monsters, green flesh reminding the scruffy smoker of orcs or something. Without missing a beat, a younger lad with a reckless grin rushed into the vicious melee as well, while another lad in green began to…pray?

And others were leaping into action as well. A bookish girl took the reins, claiming that she could turn the sheep around because she read about it. A dyke (wait, no, that’s politically incorrect and sexist or whatever) punched one of the green things pretty hard, and Elias hoped she didn’t break her fist with that punch. Another swung a rusty shield like a baseball bat, leaving a sickly crunch and a mist of blood, while the third…sat there, chewing on gum.

Yeah, that dude had the right idea. After this, Elias was totally going to lay off on cigarettes and beer, get himself a healthier diet of salad or shit like that, and stop having these weird dreams of goblins and muscle freaks.

He took a drag of his cigarette, clicked his tongue at how short it’s gotten, and flicked it away.

It pirouetted through the air, danced in the wind, and struck one of those slimy green bastards in the eye.

Oops.

[b]“Weak against fire, huh?”[/b] Elias remarked, the ghastly screech of a mud-demon resounding through the forest, before pocketing his tiles. [b]“Got some more gum, kid?”[/b] 
[@Anders]