You step outside the door, only to find yourself at the sight of a carriage crash, a baby's crying softly piercing your eardrums. Standing in front of you is an old man. Shaggy, but short white hair decorating his head. A large, but well trimmed white beard decorates his face, and it's very clear from his absent shirt that he's quite brawny and built.

His eyes turn to face you as they meet yours.

[color=goldenrod]"... quite the restless soul, aren't we?"[/color] the man addresses you before he turns back to face the carriage crash, smiling as if it was the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on.