"That quality, at least, I have observed in the stones of my native land," the lizard remarks wryly. "Is it by magic that you communicate with the spirit of the stone?" In some contexts, the fine robes and the staff slung across the white lizard's back would scream "magic guy," but such indicators are not always fully multiversal.

"Ah, but my manners--please pardon me. My name is Shade-Seeker; I am something of a mage, myself."