Habervast had been keeping a low profile once the Evil Overlord took over. Beforehand, he was a famed wizard, renown across Okoa for his party tricks and frivolous dalliances. Nothing about him bespoke a powerful mage, and anyone who asked about old Habervast would only gather that he liked to party. [i]A lot.[/i] Or at least he used to. His name had fallen out of the public sphere for several years--he had hoped no one knew he was alive. Times were getting harder. His magic doppleganger stopped wiring his Cluck N' Duck checks to him some months back. Word around on the carousel is he skipped town. Damn you, Ben Dover. Damn you!

	So, poor Habervast led a bandit party for a while--until he couldn't afford to pay them anymore. All the guilds had been shut down once the Overlord came to town; it left the honest mages strapped for cash; no street peddlers were selling much either. And don't even [i]think[/i] about trying to buy it from the black market, the Overlord had spies there, too. Of course, none of this bothered Habervast--he could make his own potions whenever he wanted. It just wasn't as fun! He missed the adventure, but to suddenly return to the heart of GI might seem suspicious. He'd have to ditch these robes and find himself some new garments and maybe a less boisterous staff, too. Nothing screams, "I'm a wizard" like a giant bo-staff and a guy with long, luscious, pure white hair.

	So he created his own clothing shop right then and there. Furnished with all the clothes he could... take...because he made the cursed thing. After helping himself to some free threads--something far less inconspicuous--and getting himself a nice, sleek black wand--something easily concealed--he set out to the heart of Gi again, destined to, well...not do much of anything as of right now. Word got around about a new influx of heroes, and word also got around about a sleu of dead heroes not long after. Boy, he remembered the days when the good guys had it easy. It'd probably take him a few deaths and resurrections before he lived to see that again.

	Gi hadn't changed much. The people looked more weary, though. Tax increase perhaps? Shame, Habervast always remembered the women looking a lot easier on the eye than they were now. For a moment he pondered on what the barmaids themselves looked like. Ah, the bar! He hadn't had a drink in a while, and he made sure to dress casual. Well, casual enough that he'd still be relatively indistinguishable from the commoners. He sat down and ordered himself a drink. The Giton, huh? Not quite how he remembered it. Slimetongue must have cracked under pressure from the mysterious overlord; Habervast was sure this had a much more colorful ring to it back in the day.

"Two shots of perrywinkle and a downer, lassie." his tone rung out. The barmaid obliged.