He rampaged his way through Europe, quaffing pilsners, tipping goulash down his gullet, ploughing sweet strange and looking for opportunities to chip bits off old gargoyles. The only gargoyle who really came within reach, though, was alive, female and down a dark alley in the newer part of Dubrovnik, and she was looking for seventy quid. Thirty would’ve been generous. Thanks but no thanks, dragana!