A Towering figure, descend's from the Hills. A Fur cloak and robe, hangs about the figure- a man it seems, standing almost eight feet tall. His face is visible in the day's light, and he looks about the Town's gates. A few quick words pass with a Gatekeeper- and he is Within. His face is withered- cracked, burnt and broken skin is visible. His frame is not near so grand as his height would suggest, and his fur garb hangs loosely about him. He leans on a massive staff, as he strides through town- his intent to look for a guide, or group thereoff, to take him deeper in to this land if he can- or failing that, to simply learn what he can. He frowns- as he senses magic being worked on an suprising scale- and starts to plod towards it, Mammoth Stave in hand.