"And I, young warrior," the old man said, swiveling his head up to face Skater, "can’t believe you walk into my abode so blithely, without the proper fear you should have before me." Skater looked into the man’s gaze, suddenly realizing one of the houngan’s eyes wasn’t really an eye at all, but a red skullfaced die inset into a black rubber ball. The nickname, "young warrior," had been something only his grandfather had ever called him.