The rain pored down dripping off the wide brim and slanted point of his hat. The metal buckle of the belt that wrapped around the bass of the point had a few spots of rust. The high collar of the man's coat nearly met his tan hat and closed in front of his face hiding almost all of it. Of course this was pointless do to the enchantment on his hat that made his face appear to be no more than darkness with eyes. The stranger's eyes were purple in color and almost seemed to glow. His dark blue coat almost brushed the ground and was entirely open aside from the closed collar. Around the waste of the coat was a thick leather belt that remained unfastened, just resting in the belt loops. The sleeves of his coat stopped at his elbows while most of his forearms were covered by leather gloves. Stitched lines seemed to be placed randomly over the coat and the bottom was tattered. Under the coat he wore a black jumpsuit with a belt around his thin waste, the legs of which were tucked into his boots and sleeves into his gloves. His leather boots almost reached his knees and had steel plates on the toes. This mysterious man went by the name of Kraft and he was a wizard of the dark arts.
Kraft stood facing a pub and clenched the metal rod in his right hand. It was just over three feet in length and made of silver. It narrowed as it reached the bottom like a cane. A red crystal sphere sat atop the rod. After a few moments of just starring at the pub Kraft slid his rod through his belt on the left side like a sheathed sword and entered. The smell of ale filled the air as smoke wafted around the room. Kraft was here to meet some one, an elf by the name of Sayr.
As Kraft walked deeper into the mist of ale and smoke he collided with some one who stumbled back. The man was tall and thin like Kraft only he did not slouch like the dark wizard. Upon his head he wore a crimson wide brim hat with a black band, a silver plume stuck in the band. His pointed ears revealed him to be an elf. Snow white bangs fell over his left eye revealing only one crimson eye. His mantle too was crimson and like Kraft's collar it covered his nose and below. A cape just as red as his hat and mantle hung from under the mantle falling only inches off the ground. His pants were red as well and tucked into brown leather boots that nearly reached his knees. His shirt on the other hand was black like the band of his hat and was partially covered on the arms by brown leather gloves that reached his elbows. On his left hip hung a sword with a rather ornate guard and handle. It was silver in color.
"Why don't you watch where you are going! I could easily kill you." Snapped the elf in red.
"I highly doubt that... Your sword is nothing to my magics..." said Kraft in a raspy voice.
"I have magic myself so don't think yourself so mighty wizard." The elf in red said rather sorely.
"Still.... you stand nothing to my spells, not now anyway...." Kraft continued to say before lifting his head and starring with his glowing purple eyes.
"And what makes you think you know my magic well enough to make such a rash judgment?" The elf asked in a disgruntled tone.
"...Because I only know of one elven blood mage.. who took the tones of crimson to heart..." Kraft answered.
"How do you... wait." The elf started. "I only know one wizard with a spell on his face such as yours. Kraft is that you?" The elf questioned.
"Hello Sayr... It has been quite some time, over three years I do believe." Kraft said to the elf now known to be Sayr. Kraft walked past Sayr and took a seat at a near by table. He leaned forward over the table in a slouched manner.
"Why are you here? With the time it takes to travel plus the time it takes to obtain the knowledge a wizard should be gathering, you must have come straight here without any of that." Sayr said as he took a seat at the small table along with Kraft.
"We need to talk." Kraft muttered in his raspy voice, his eyes locked on Sayr as if to say 'you're not getting away this time'.
"Hold it! I left the tower over twenty years ago and I've told you a thousand times. Even if they let me I would not go back." Sayr quickly snapped.
"Thats not what I'm talking about... I gave up on that some time ago." Kraft cackled. "The sword on your hip, its no normal sword... It is the sword-" Kraft was saying before Sayr cut him off.
"Sairiph, I know." Sayr said completing his sentence. "I may have left the tower but I still remember the teachings, but that's not what concerns me. You need more than knowledge of the legend to find the wielders, you need one of them yourself." Sayr said in a serious tone. "So its your rod I take it? What one is it?" Sayr questioned.
"I don't know... It has revealed itself to be one of them.... but it has yet to reveal its name." Kraft answered. His eyes shifted to the rod on his waste and then back to Sayr. "All I know... is that it has chosen me to be its wielder.. and to find the others..." Kraft said looking Sayr dead in the eye.
"And do what exactly? The prophecy is not exactly clear on what needs to be done." Sayr stated leaning back in his chair.
"Yes... but... it does say that... the four wielders must be found... and united." Kraft retorted. "Sayr.... my old friend... I spent the last three years... five months after you left, searching for you... will you join me as fate decided?" Kraft requested.
"No." Sayr said simply. "You have changed. I will not travel with someone I do not know." Sayr said to him as an explanation.
Kraft grabbed his staff and put the end of it only inches from Sayr's face. The tip burst into flames, cackles with crimson waves and silver sparks. "I said.... are you... coming?" Kraft said with his eyes locked on Sayr.
"There's the Kraft I know. When do we leave?" Sayr asked with a smirk as he watched Kraft put his staff back and the flame go out.