Little is known about the man who calls himself X.
No homeland, no family, no past, at least none he is willing to speak of. Those who have worked with him quickly learn that questions are rarely answered and curiosity is rarely rewarded.

He is a professional sellknife, a covert operative who sells his talents to the highest bidder. Theft, forgery, infiltration, sabotage, assassination - whatever the task requires, X approaches it with the same cold precision and quiet efficiency. To him, a job is a problem to be solved, and he prides himself on having a solution for nearly any problem.

His appearance is as unremarkable as his name, a bald, clean-shaven man with a forgettable face, dressed in dark traveler’s garb and a worn wide-brim hat that casts his eyes into shadow. In crowded streets he is invisible, another passerby among hundreds.

Recently, X has arrived in Bazagon, drawn by the city’s reputation for intrigue, corruption, and opportunity. In a place where schemes are currency and loyalty is temporary, a man with no past and no allegiances can thrive.