Familiar Faces. Not something that Balthazar was used to seeing, especially in the way that he lived. Trailing out of a drain, Balthazar looked around the area before him. He had some how ended up in the middle of Obsidian already, and there was that thing that he never saw; a familiar face. His face immediately lightened up at the sight.
"Pearl Kanti? Merlins beard, its been so long!" he called out as he advanced in the direction of Pearl, his limp getting more and more obvious as the distance between the two slowly shortened. Balthazar was supporting himself with his stick, cane, Staff, whatever you wanted to call it. His advance was a quick one, after all these years with the injury he had sustained in his right leg, he should have been able to move even faster. Practice made perfect, even for situations like these.
He didn't expect Pearl to recognize him too much, after all he now possessed tattered hair, a scruffy facial feature and a more than obvious limp. He also tended to wear older, unfashionable clothes - after all they were all he could get his hands on. Not being the richest Wizard in the land was clear, but then again, most wondered why? He was a great healer in his time, teaching Pearl a fair share of what she knew and he was well on his way to being the best of the best. Alcohol was said to crush dreams, but Balthazar could never predict how quickly. Now the Great healer was a Master Con-Artist and Potioneer. Couldn't complain though? He had it better then some of the others that lived in the Sewers and drains with him.
