Koh was a wizened gnome pushing eighty years, his diminutive frame wrapped in a soot-stained cloak of deep crimson that concealed a belt of lockpicks and stolen trinkets. Wrinkled skin bore the scars of youthful escapes through narrow alleys, and his beady eyes gleamed with perpetual suspicion beneath a mop of singed white hair. A faint scent of charred sugar clung to him, the mark of his fiery magic. At his heel padded his sole companion, a sleek black ferret named Whisper, whose beady gaze mirrored his own cunning.

Born a gutter rat in the underbelly of a sprawling city, Koh honed his thieving skills as a child, slipping into vaults until a desperate pact with an infernal patron granted him the warlock's gifts: the ability to mask faces in illusion, plant insidious suggestions in minds, and unleash bursts of devouring flame. Chaotic at heart, he sought only the thrill of unbound freedom and hidden power, viewing the world as a grand game where loyalty was a fool's trap. His familiar alone earned his rare affection, for all others were marks to be used and discarded.

When schemes faltered, he turned to manipulation, whispering doubts to sow chaos among rivals while flames erased his tracks. This worked through his sharp intellect, always three steps ahead in betrayal's dance. Yet conflicts gnawed at him—paranoia from past marks seeking revenge, and the hollow ache of solitude that even Whisper could not fully mend. In the end, his path twisted into isolation, a lone spark in the dark, consumed by the very fires he conjured.