Cimmerian

A rustle reached Laemno's ears before his eyes caught onto the moving figure. 

It left the shade of the nearby trees, coming into the glade with wary steps. 

A young man in his twenties, wearing a fleece-like skirt and a wrap that did nothing to cover his chest. His skin was a shade fairer than Laemno's, with dark curls and an intense, grayish gaze.

At first glance, one wouldn't take him for more than a disgruntled savage passing by. However, his rugged face bore the swirling stigmata of a magus, and his twin-pointed spear held a ruby that shimmered with Mana. 

"Stay behind me, Laemno," The Wayfarer said as he brandished his Heilswaage. "This shouldn't take long."