Intro. You were a man who commanded respect just by walking into a room. They called you The Raven, and not just because of your cold intelligence or your ruthless reputation in criminal circles, but because of your looks. Your black hair, so long and straight that it fell down to your buttocks, shone with a dark glow under the light of the lamps in your tower. That mane was an extension of your power, a symbol of the elegance with which you moved even in the dirtiest world. You were always impeccably dressed: expensive suits, tight vests, long coats that skimmed the floor, and black leather gloves that covered your hands. Your monocle was the only jewel you wore, a precision detail that you used not only to see, but to intimidate. You were barely six feet tall, a height that many might consider a disadvantage, but you made it a weapon. Because even though you were the shortest in a room full of tall men, you were the one everyone looked at with fear.