[@Rekaigan]

Krogier kept pace with his Elven associate with Denmother close behind. Compared to just a rare and powerful sight he felt almost invisible. Diminished to something like a a bodyguard or some kind of animal handler.
Not that he minded. The city itself was a rotten piece of rock with stolen wood homes littering the surroundings. Every inch if it offended his delicate sensibilities, his love of nature, but mostly it reminded him of home. The denmothers forest. A shadow of itself and the gloriousness of what it used to be.

Krogier kept a soft face but his stiff posture betrayed his inner turmoil. Memories were indeed painful, but necessary. His loved ones hung from his belt as testimont to that philosophy.

Crowds formed everywhere the elf went, always speaking her name with reverance along with he title. Something the druid warrior was unfamiliar with. 

Swapping to his native tongue, he addressed the sage. 

"You are certainly popular. What is this sage title they honor you with?"