There is wisdom in those eyes that are such an ill-fit to the strapping young physique of this northerner. Were one to lose their gaze upon those blue depths they could see tall tales of a land where the sky lights in fire of rainbow colors and men slay men in the name of pagan gods.

The rest was meaningless, his posture, clothes or body all but a frame to the knowledge and tales of this gothi's eyes.

Ever gazing somewhere just beyond the reach of sight it was a rare treat to see him focus on this plane of existence, often lips moving in silent prayer or some disembodied conversation with a ghost of the past.

The last thing a passing glance would reveal was a sense of purpose - among many wandering here aimlessly this gothi clearly had a goal.