Slowly rolling out from the mists...

[Tadelin]

...is a small wagon, being pulled along the road by two draft horses. Sitting on the bench is an elderly man, perhaps well beyond his sixtieth year, softly talking to the horses and to someone else who is not readily visible. This person may be in the back of the wagon, but again they would not be visible, as all that can be seen in the back of the wagon is a rather large metal box. Bound with iron, and quite obviously locked, this box appears to be holding something, though none can be quite certain.

The elderly gentleman gently pulls the reins to stop the horses, and they comply by slowing to a stop just near the edge of the town they almost wandered into. After a few moments of discussion with the unseen passenger, the old man turns and knocks on the outside of the metal box. At this, several of the natives to this village start to peer from a distance at the wagon. To the surprise of everyone within earshot, the voice of the passenger sounds as if it is coming from within the metal box itself. Both the man and his passenger speak in a language vastly different from anything one might normally find within the borders of Nova Vaasa.

There is a knock from the inside of the box, and the box itself shakes a bit. The driver climbs out of his seat and into the back of the wagon, pulling a small key from his pocket, and then unlocking the box itself. As he opens the box, the driver steps back as if giving room to something within the box itself. Within moments, a tall, cloaked figure stands from within the box, and appears to look around at the land, the buildings, and the people. After this cursory examination of the surroundings, the figure points to a sign and tells the elderly man something of which only the words "Nova Vaasa" can be made out by the locals.

The two talk for a moment longer, then the cloaked figure steps out of the box, gently kicks the lid closed, and climbs out of the back of the wagon. While stepping into the town itself, it becomes quickly apparent that the locals are a little fearful of these new visitors, so the cloaked figure stops and speaks in what it clearly a male voice.

"It appears that we have drifted from our intended destination. Can anyone tell me which town this is?"

While to the locals this man has an obvious foreign accent, his ability with the language is such that he sounds almost as if he had been speaking it for a while. Yet no one replies, other than a beggar not far from him.

"Arbora, stranger. You've come to Arbora."

---

<OOC> Yes, I'm at it again. I'm trying to get myself back into the proper grooves, and I thought that revisiting an old character might just do the trick for me. Feel free to hop in, the more the merrier. I've found that these things tend to control their own size, which suits me nicely. Fresh ideas, and side trips are always welcome. Above all, have fun. </OOC>