He looked as if he was transported from a Druidic circle of stones during days long past.
A scarlet robe that knew the ground, trees, and sky billowed about him as he walked the paved and painted streets of a jungle of glass and tall stones.

He seemed so unaware of the roaring metal beasts that maneuvered in lines to and fro at his side.
Stitched into his robes were sparkling silver symbols that accounted for all of the world’s wisdom.
The Cross, Pentacle, David’s Star, Slender Sickle, Hera’s Jewel, and other talismans clinked and clanked as he wandered with an unspoken purpose.

His only company was a weathered and twisted staff topped with a mesmerizing lavender amethyst pillar.
His fierce and fiery hair was matted and bound by a beaded cord that seemed to have some sympathetically implied or esoteric purpose.
A tangled red beard allowed his chin to meet his stomach,
and was unmoved by the harsh gusts blowing through the urban corridors.
The infectious, smog wheezing, spirits of this industrialized wasteland could not penetrate his circle.
Was this man misplaced in time and space? A shaman, priest, or herald?