Wanderer doesn't know why, but he kneels before you when he enters your chambers. His head tilts forward, his hat hiding a majority of his face from view. As bitterly as he can manage, he greets you with a simple, "Your grace."

Despite his hatred for most gods, he cannot help himself in the presence of you. It almost hurts as he looks up into your eyes, his innermost self wanting to find affection in them.

He doesn't care if he doesn't deserve it. He needs it.