Slowly the man with long white hair strode through the streets of Radasanth. In his early days of coming to the planet of Althanas he had been here - in fact he had been almost everywhere civilised before settling in Beinost. However, since that single time he had not walked the streets, apart from the memories of dead ghosts and the victims of his intrusive mind readings.

Now he walked himself, dressed in fine black cotton of breeches and military style tailcoat, deep brown boots and a flourish of white shirt at his throat. His lone prop was his dark wood cane, topped with a brass owl head, that he held behind him between both hands. He was the figure of lonesome gentry and style, a person that an eager-eyed merchant might victimise. However, if one looked close and was perceptive they would see that in fact he was the one seeking, his eyes roaming for a red haired man, dressed in a drakescale chestpiece, a face and eyes quite distinctive.

Carefully Vitruvion roamed, letting the minutes slip by. Prying intrusion into the surface thoughts of easy to read minds had shown him that a similarly faced individual had come this way, and rumours of a blood cult. Though the crimson hair had not been mentioned, loose lips had mentioned those eyes and a type of being similar. Thus, over the hour or so the white-haired god had found his way over to a small certain corner of Radanath and was now close to tracking the man called Nevin, he was sure.

He stood at the key crossroads for several long minutes before the bald head passed him by. Vitruvion needed to do a reassessment, but as he focused in on the face and compared it to Stare's memories he became more certain. The lack of red hair mentioned was obvious now. Carefully Vitruvion stepped through the crowd and began to follow Nevin, grinning in his own way as he twirled his cane behind him. Waiting for the blood mage to realise he was being followed.

Nevin frowned and rubbed at the back of his neck. For the last short while, the humming upon his skin had been… stuttering? Like something was interfering or interrupting his magic, but he didn't know of anything that could achieve that. But considering that he was currently trying to track down an apparent survivor of the cult that had warped him, he wasn't about to take chances.

The currently baldheaded alchemist pushed through a small throng of people and walked over to a nearby shop, a d turned around to lean his back against it. As soon as his back was pressed against the rock, his dark eyes started scanning the crowd. He had been caught off guard once by the bounty hunters, and he did not intend to get snatched when he was this close to finding his target.

The white haired man moved into view, piercing blue eyes flickering around to flicker over the blood mage’s face. Picking out the individual features he took three final steps before he became absolutely sure that this was indeed the same person as that his kenku had befriended. Then he stopped, smile flickering and turned fully in the middle of the street to face Nevin, blinking slowly.

“I understand you are a famed alchemist? From Stonevale?” His voice was smooth, handsome and seductive - but quiet.

Dark red eyes went wide before narrowing as the alchemist tensed up. No one here should recognize him - his red hair was how most identified him. More than that, none of his clientele lived in Radasanth or made trips there that he knew of. Nevin’s skin prickled as he tensed up.

“You would be correct in that regard. If you're needing an alchemical concoction I'll have to deny you though, sir, as I do not have any of my products with me. I'm sure Radasanth has skilled alchemists of its own, one of them should be able to help you.” Nevin's tone was wary, guarded. Cobalt, this man was connected to the damn hunters, that must be why he recognized Nevin now.

Vitruvion regarded Nevin for a moment before losing his smile. As he listened to his tone he realised that this particular person - that was not weak and would take some time to successfully pierce the mind of - was extremely wary. Considering that he had experienced the same days as Stare, the god acknowledged his right to be so. Therefore he straightened and addressed the concern directly.

“I do not mean you any harm, alchemist. Nor any danger. I am a man who is merely a … fan of your abilities. Of yourself. I have searched for you in this city for more than two hours.”

Bringing his hands around to show that he held no weapons he posed before Nevin with his cane, resting its end on the ground where it belonged.

Nevin watched as the man held his hands on his cane, his body still tense as he regarded the white haired individual. As far as he knew, the only people who could know he was in Radasanth was - Stare. The cult itself couldn't know yet - there was no way word of his and her escape from their captors could have been made known to them, not yet.

So then this man was someone connected with Stare and Raevin - his friend had heard where he was supposed to be delivered, and was easily intelligent enough to figure out that was where his business would be. That thought almost made him relax his guard - would have, if not for the warning about letting Stare’s master employ him. Was this a recruitment agent sent by the mysterious Vitruvion then?

“I see. I wasn't aware I had fans, especially ones attentive enough to recognize me without my hair.”