i. research workroom

He's an unobtrusive arrival—no rifts, no bear announcements. Overnight a desk in the Research workrooms that was previously unoccupied becomes occupied, first only by ink and blank paper and other small signs of life, and then, intermittently, by 6'4" of leanly muscled human, usually slightly damp. He spends most of his time there reading. Getting up to speed. He says hello and excuse me and, if asked, Ram Tjäder. Maybe Senior Warden if pressed. Enough syllables for an Ander accent to be obvious, at least.

It's only several days after he first appeared that he drops his current set of documents on his desk, abruptly, and asks whoever is there to be asked, "Do you know anything about Soldier's Peak? I heard that you went there. Some of you. A long time ago."

ii. the walls

There's no thunder, so he can't be out here hoping to be struck by anything. There are only sheets of rain and enough wind to slant them, all lit with the luminous grey that means the sun is up there behind the clouds somewhere. And Wolfram is dripping wet, facing out over the water toward the city, and trying to catch raindrops in the mouth of his flask.

Footsteps, or movement—either way, he's not cool enough or mesmerized enough not to startle. But he recovers from it smoothly enough, without dropping his flask over the side of the wall onto the rocks and waves below. And since he has someone to ask: "Do the mountains turn green?"

He would think so, with all of this rain. But he's heard, too, that Kirkwall is black and grey year round.