You emerge from the dense woods by the afternoon of the following day. The forest thins, and the sky widens above you. As you reach a low rise near the edge of the treeline, you spot a curious figure sitting comfortably on a fallen tree trunk. His hair is a mane of thick waves, unmistakably dyed blonde. His purplish-crimson robe likewise was designed to capture as much attention to his person, so easy to spot over the greens of the forest.
There is a picnic cloth spread on the log beside him, and he is nibbling on a wedge of cheese, but what he sees you stepping out of the shadows of the trees, he blinks in surprise. He quickly stands up and brushes the crumbs from his robe, and gives you a theatrical bow:
"Good Afternoon! Vayek, at your service," he flaps the hem of his robe. "Magician, alchemist, and purveyor of magical delights. And who, might I ask, are you?"