For a man approaching middle age he's still well-built with a crooked nose and several old scars visible on his face and hands.
He runs fights down at the docks in The Loops neighborhood of the Fisherman Quarter. The exact location changing from week to week. Any blood in the morning just joins that washed away by the fishmongers as the daytime business of the district begins again in the hours just before dawn.
He arranges the card, ensures that the fights are fair, and oversees security, staying out of the omnipresent business of gambling in order to ensure impartiality. Instead the various bookmakers, money lenders, and the like all pay him a percentage of their take.