---
Raven and the stranger at his room stared at each other.
The situation was tense. Raven's instincts kicked in and yelled that this man was dangerous, yet it also tells him that this guys doesn't mean him any harm. It was weird but Raven knew that he could rely on his instincts.
The stranger was an old man with a bald head and a long white beard which was adorned by black laces swirling around them. It would appear as if the man was sleeping while standing due to his eyelids shut at all times, yet Raven could tell that he doesn't need them open to see things clearly. The erosion of time was visible on his visage through wrinkles, bent back, old fashioned robes and a wooden cane.
But even though this old man appear weak and frail, his presence screamed otherwise. Raven was no fool. Anyone who survived long enough in this sect, is someone who shouldn't be called 'weak' nor 'frail'.
