Fall 22, 511 AV.
Tall, silent, shrouded in his dirty green coat. Standing at six feet tall he filled out that dirty green coat quite while. Armour adorning his shoulders and right arm. The fingers clad in metal to be more like jagged claws of iron. It wasn't much, but it would survive a fight that was all that mattered to this man. Standing against the cold breeze that struck against his face he looked around the city of Avanthal. His ruby red eyes saw so much at once it was almost overwhelming. Fear, intimidation, breathlessness, he felt all these and behind the red where slight echo's of darker blues, emerald green, and a subtle orange that would be missed at a glance. He had arrived and felt many different emotions, some he had yet to grasp. As his heart thumped in his chest he took a step forward the snow crunching around his footstep.
"What should I do? Where should I go? What is there for me here?" These questions leap around his mind with every step. Thoughts of his mother appeared in his mind, a woman he loved deeply, a woman he never met. This was where she was born, where she was from. He knew nothing of her or her culture, other than the goddess that she worshiped. Doubt and fear rose again, swirling in his eyes, he felt need. He sat down, out of anyone's way, and took out a small piece of wood. Slowly using one of his metal clad fingers, he began to scrape away at it. Attempting to be gentle, yet strong, he carved the wood with rough shapes. Loosing his mind in the attempt to create and distracting himself, at least for a while, from the emotions he didn't wish to feel*