For the moment, it had stopped raining. Though the purple robed man brushed past the off duty  Martin, head bowed, hat hiding his face, as did his scarf. "Sir," he grunted slightly, shoulder connecting with shoulder as they passed eachother. Otherwise, he did not disrupt the officer's path, leaving him to his treck. The first elven maiden he stopped left him pondering if they really were xenophobic. With a sigh, spotted what had to be the only other person otherwise not affected by the petals. Again, a Kel'dorei woman. How odd... "G'day miss." he said in passing. No gifts in hand, nor a backpack to carry anything. Four heavily filled pouches hanging from his belt, as was a spell worker's wand, a faintly glowing skull, and something that seemed like a prayer bead necklace made from pearls of every color of the rainbow...<br/><br/>It had to be worth a small fortune. And like him, it was wondering away at his own lazy pace. Or stalking pace, rather, for despite his friendly words, nothing could describe the way he moved, except for brooding. Every aspect of this man was something old, threatening... He might have been past the prime for physical virtues, as many of his practition may be. But his height, which outdid most Night Elven men, was enough to make his a threat in most people's eyes... And to those that could feel the flows of magic, the energies of faith and power... He was a threat indeed. A chill aura of something about him, like a coiled serpent ready to strike...<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>