This was once a city of walls, of planned mazes set in tile and clay. Careful geomancy observed in every angle, welcoming spiritual fortune and shunning evil influence. As Seoul grew rampant into a megacity, though, the new mazes of concrete and neon were not built to follow the old methods. Seoul's psychic fortress has been compromised by dreams of change and renewal. So, slowly and quietly, the Dragon have worked their way into the fabric of the city. The society has no native connection to Seoul, though they have passed through Korea before in times of great strife. In the previous two centuries, Dragon powerbases have manifested, then dissolved, in Hong Kong and Shanghai. Permanence means nothing. The Dragon seek the scent of change in the psyche of a place, all the better to attract new acolytes. From a string of seemingly unrelated events – scandals and violence, sudden endings and new beginnings – they have gathered resources for their nest in the city. Just as they came with Seoul's troubled dreams, they now occupy a dreamworld of their own. The district of the Dragon is fogged, unclear - caught between times, or existing outside of time. It is a forbidden city, its winding streets imperceptibly doubling back on themselves. The air is heavy with rain and coincidence. People are wary and subdued, unsure of what brought them to this place, or what prevents them from leaving it again. The green-robed ranks of the Dragon are, as ever, inscrutable. Some could not speak even if they chose to, having sacrificed their voices to better hear the sound of chaos. Still, the trinket shops, boutique hotels and PC bangs go through the motions of life, accompanied by tacky lighting and overenthusiastic karaoke. Locals and newcomers debate which pieces in the Dragon's puzzle they are fated to play. Seoul is now a city of anticipation. Change is coming.