In the shadows of the corner, Valimund Berkinston, or the Brown Mage as he had been dubbed centuries ago, watched with some curiousity as two people crept towards the woman residing in the lodge. The female he did not know, though he could guess she was far from ordinary, given the excellent display of stealth. One to watch out for to be sure. The male however, was who Valimund was seeking. Tyler was one of the many new mages popping up in the recent century, wrecking the balance of magic and giving Valimund a headache. He'd been cursed centuries ago by a master mage that he had shamed in court with some clever potion work. Ever since, Valimund the Brown had skin the colored dark blue.
And he was immortal. The last bit was likely unintended, but Valimund considered it a curse far worse than peculiar skin.
Stowing these thoughts for now, Valimund began concentrating, building magical energies around him. He had to be careful, for centuries of life had built immense stores of magic within his body. A miscalculation could be disasterous, as the raging storm outside was evidence of. "It was supposed to be a simple fog..." he muttered quietly to himself. The female froze, scanning the room. Had he been too loud? Or was she simply that attentive? Either way, he had a choice to make. If she found him, Tyler would find him.
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