"You shouldn't be here," said a voice behind him, and when he'd turn, he'd find a teenaged monk, about sixteen or seventeen years of age, wearing saffron robes, and leaning against a metal staff.

Blue arrow tattoos sprawled over his body, on his arms and forehead, although on the left arm, it looked like it had been re-tattooed over the burns all over said arm.

His expression was dark and he had the kind of face that looked like it wasn't a good fit for dark expressions, like it was made more for mirth and laughter.

"It's not a very nice place."