Atol wasn’t exactly what you would call a people person, however his swagger and chai neow behavior made him popular with the prairie harpies. He was always ready for a fight, and could hold his own, but even he wasn’t prepared for what would turn his life a might dreadful.

While enjoying a drink at his saloon, Atol found himself interrupted by a Reaver attack. Those ornery huen dahn dropped straight through the ruttin’ roof and went to chewin’ on the locals. Atol turned on the yi dwei da buen chuo roh, but at some point in the rawl, someone knocked over a lantern and that whisky soaked tavern went up in flames.

Atol paid little attention to the flames as Reaver after Reaver fell under the swing of the pipe wrench he had carried on his belt. The fight moved outside and while his flesh burned, Atol converted the pain to ai yah tien ah punishment distribution. When he finally fell, he went down ma jung hwa, and no Reaver was left alive.

He woke up in the care of the local preacherman. There with him were the few that survived the attack and two men he didn’t know, but were badly eatin’. His shwie body was powerful burnt and his skin could no longer take much of the sun. In his weeks of recovery, he and his fellow patients became fast p’n yoh as they shared a mutual hatred of Reavers.