He turned around, bringing his attention to the woman dressed in black and white; wielding a staff. A magic user of some kind, definitely; he could feel it.<em> A Hyur. </em>Not surprising, really; they were pretty common, after all. He looked her over intently, seemingly sizing her up. "Okay, thanks. I appreciate it. I haven't been in town that long." He speaks with absolutely certainty, even though he has only an inkling of an idea that this is not his home city; and it is, in fact, not. Nobody here has recognized him. Nobody would; this is not his home.<br/><br/>He would start walking with her, presuming that she would lead the way. If she's looking closer, she may notice that his weapons of choice aren't very obvious. He doesn't seem to be carrying one at all, in fact! But looking at his hands, at the gloves... they have metal strips woven into the leather; more then that, their are short metal spikes along the knuckles, and metal claw tips at the end of the fingers. Even his boots have small, bladed bits that could turn a painful kick into something lethal.  With his wiry, athletic build, and weapons like that, she may be able to guess pretty accurately as to what sort of a fighter he was.<br/><br/>"My name's Naga." He was lucky enough to remember that much, at least. He had a few scraps of memory-stuff that were pretty set in stone in his head, thank the gods. "And yours? Are you planning on answering the call?" From the enthusiastic way he talks about the call for adventurers, it should be quite clear that he fully intends to throw himself into it.