The walk towards the windmill wasn't a long one for someone who people wanted to avoid, but even still the hooded man took a few twists and turns through the fair in order to prevent any one being from guessing where he had started to where he was going. His business was his own and he didn't need tailgaters.

The goggles still tightly held in his gloved hand, Magus opened the windmill door with the other, his eyes narrowing as he gazed into the gloom of the currently disused windmill, the natural light that was slipping in just enough to light up the building so that something like a naked flame would not be required for safety reasons... and rendering the building worthless for his objective. Slamming the door closed and looking around again, the hooded man tried to think of where he could set up for the process in front of him.

He could try to get a rent a room for the night, but between his limited budget and the fact that the town seemed to have drawn a large number of people due to the festival that seemed like a plan that was doomed to fail. Admitting that he would have to wait until early afternoon, if not nightfall before he could begin, Magus slipped the goggles away into a pocket under his cloak for later. This now left him with time to kill...

Deciding that he didn't wish to walk through the festival again and in fact wanted to avoid people in general, the hooded figure started towards the one place he could trust that the living would avoid... the company of those long dead.