Rodriguez

"The fairies talk to me. They tell me where I can find him." Rodriguez's voice is cracked, worn as an old boot. He has always the peaty smell of bog on him. His wanderings, fruitless for so long, have taken the air of the ritual: always circling, circling, circling. Was him that found Archlich, that bony ancient being. His pixies' magic revived them; his distant blear pacified them. Archlich was almost sickened at the sight. They had not seen such a strange, unfocused dragon in all the foggy memories of time long ago. But his pitiable state brought a sad, hard thump in her stony heart. So she followed him home and became his friend.
Fitz had welcomed Rod into her parties many times, bjt he never seemed to know what was going on or care about having fun. Instead he would ask questions, bend over pieces of the landscape to examine them, or stare intensely into the distance. He wasn't invited anymore but Fitz still tries to have a little chat with him fairly often and keeps tabs.