(This Topic to in terms of Juer's Timeline meant to take place after "Nomads Shifting as the Sands")
Just a few days after the travels ended with the first person whom he had considered a leader, a "saint" or so that is what he was called by others Juer had spoken to. It was plain that this world around him was trying to change him, or at least everything inside of it was built around change, Juer lived in a place were even the grains of sand never strayed far from where they laid the day before. The world outside of his own was plainly an evil one, it was becoming more and more clear to him that he was going to have to dedicate himself not only to his quest, but also ensure that his quest does not conquer him.
Strangers still hushed their voices and stared when Juer passed, murmuring to each-other about Juer's primitive look, secretive demeanor, and aggressive spells when pushed just slightly outside of his comfort zone, where he was already far away. No matter what Juer did, he could not adjust to what was going on around him. And while others my have decorated themselves, their markings are meaningless, and provided them with no benefit in the way Juer's did. They did not understand Juer did not want them to, if he was going to become the God-King of his people, he needed to be strong enough to change the world, not allow the world to change him!
Juer strode into yet another unnamed settlement, a circular arrangement of homes with no inn. the only public house being an empty town hall, with nothing more than tables and booths abandoned for a reason Juer did not care enough to ask of. The people did as they always did, and avoided Juer, word already having traveled this far out that a member of the elusive Kalmuri clan has shown himself, and what is more, that he is a danger and refuses to speak to anyone about why he has made the "choice" to appear now.
Few madmen and doomsayers even started to squawk of a coming apocalypse, but this still brought few people together. Too controlled by fear to actually do anything about it. Even the armed men of each encampment did little to impede the half-dressed wanderer.
His filthy brown tattered robe still tight around his waist, covering his shame and providing him with what he needed to get in and out of villages without someone feeling the need to comment on his dress rather than just watch in stewing horror as nothing happens. Juer steps up the stairs to the public hall, opening the door by pushing his hand forward, feeling no strain of his muscles as the ink's magic operated on it's own, separate from him. The doors creaked and cracked slightly as the lock seemed to be on it, but as the wooden door got to be about four inches from his palm, the lock would prove to be the weak point, snapping and causing the door to swing open, nearly ripping itself off the hinges. Onlookers watched in horror as Juer stepped into the hall, disappointed to find no one in charge there as well, looking outside at the small crowd whom had gathered, Juer decided it was best to just lay here to rest from the past travels. walking deeper into the hall and to the far side, sitting on the only cushioned chair and resting his body. skin connecting with the chair allowing his hands to freely touch it. gripping the armrests tightly as to not fall asleep, not watching to be anywhere near an established location to do that. He would just rest his eyes and his legs at this time.