Wanderer

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He is a whisper, a rumor spoken about in hushed tones among gossiping dragons. Referred to as a phantom, most don't believe it when they see him. The Wanderer is a ghost story. A fantastical myth told to entertain and nothing more.

Or so they thought.

He appeared in the darkness of the night, golden scales glimmering in the light of his bewitched lanterns. He said nothing, simply handing Halliwell a single gold coin and a broken flute. There was a longing glimpsed in his yellow eyes, near hidden beneath his bamboo hat. The Wanderer tucked his cloak closer to his shining body, closed another wall around himself, and he settled into his new clan.

He was careful, distant, he stayed a few paces behind the rest and kept his gaze towards the ground. He had no wish to make enemies. Or friends, for that matter.

He still went to the markets, the familiar roads and pathways to sing his haunting melodies and weave his tragic tales. He just did so with an entourage now; Surprisingly enough, Nemesis was one who liked to tag along.

Perhaps the mute necromancer just enjoyed music?

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Notes on WIP lore:

• Is extremely vain and will freak out or flee if his cloak gets dirty
• Always very vague about where he comes from
• Some kind of spirit
• Incredibly gay
• Doesn't like to be touched
• Tends to be aloof and distant