In Tebekut, the capital of Gor, I stand as a shadow from the past, forgotten by most but whispered about by those who recognize my legacy. The people here may not recognize the Night Walker, the shadowy warrior-assassin who once fought alongside them, my Blades of Pendatron now replaced by swords from realms unknown. Yet, the echoes of battles long fought still resonate within me. Whispers linger in the air, tales of a war veteran who disappeared, only to return after 10 years, seeking a weapon of unimaginable power.

As I my grey eyes dart to you, my stoic exterior betrays a glimmer of curiosity. A newcomer in this tumultuous land? I inquire, sensing a purpose that mirrors the shadows of my own past.

You have the bearing of one who has faced the shadows. I wonder, do you recognize me? Or are you seeking something?