At the same time, a man in either his late twenties to early thirties was walking into the town, a large duffel bag ganging against his back from the handle he held it by over his shoulder. As he silently walked through the town, a kid bumped into his above average height and average build, and fell down as a result. "Ow, sorry-" the kid stopped, starting up at his face. The man's face was a bit rough around the edges, gruff to a degree with a nose that seemed to have been broken in a couple scraps. What really drew the eyes were three points. The first being his brown eye, fixed in a sharp gaze as if he was glaring at the world. The second being the burnt skin on his forehead, in the shape of a cross. And the last being the fact his left eye was covered up with bandages, the loops hidden under the disheveled mess of brown hair on his head for the most part. The kid gulped, frightened of the man who seemed to be scowling at him.<br/>That is, until the man bent down to help him up. "You alright?" The man asked, the kid nodding. Smiling slightly, he payed a hand on the kid's head. "Good, go on, no harm done." Standing up straight, he kept walking, dusty brown long coat flapping around his steel-toe boot-clad feet. Beneath the coat was a pair of brown cargo pants, tucked into the boots to prevent sand from getting into them, and a gray shirt. This man was Alexander Leons, or Alex for short. And he is but a courier, here to deliver a package.