The quiet quickly becomes deafening when you’re on your own for long enough. The sounds of the wild, chirping insects and yapping mammalians, even the breath of the wind. It leaves its place in the natural order of things as harmless background noise and becomes something far more insidious. Something to be afraid of. The quiet scared him more than anything else in the barren land of Felenr that it did. Though perhaps he was just growing paranoid in his middle age, he certainly had good reason to be wracked with worry. That lone man, wandering into an all too familiar ruin. His name was Metz, he was an unassuming man with a wiry build and brownish red hair tied back in a tail. Like most survivors of the Departure, he wore a scrapped together vest (and further protection beneath his clothes) that served to protect him from the blades common bandits liked to employ. He also carried a knife of his own, a curved blade kept in a sheath over his chest, though he was no bandit. That being said, if anyone took the time to look at him closely they might see past his holey green jumper and his narrow, almost emaciated, features. Even past the knife and the gun at his hip, all the way over to the three neat vials on his belt. Two which glowed a faint blue and were filled with some kind of unusual liquid, one filled with a jet black liquid that seemed unhealthy even to the untrained eye.

It were these things which marked him out as a Mage, someone to be avoided at all costs on the wastes of Felenr. They were all mad killers, driven crazy by the soul tainting black mana they imbibed to wreak devestation like that which had struck the town of Arkulf, or what had been Arkulf before it was ruined by fire and war.

“Can’t say I didn’t do a fair bit of this damage, now that I think about it.” His voice was raw with disuse, seeing as how he only seldom spoke, and even then usually with himself. But there it was, filling that open air with the sparsely heard tone of human voice, or Torm, as it was in this case. He shrugged his shoulders, the backpack shifting as he did so to resettle some of the weight, and walked into the town.