"It's time." He says it out loud, even though there's no one nearby. He's been preparing for what he considers a reclamation of what's been lost. In every port of every city he's been to recently, there's talk of exodus, of glory, of pushing back the wild that still dominates the continent.
He knows what used to be here, even though so much has been forgotten-- not just by the common folk, but by his own order. There was scant detail in the libraries and even less in what's been passed down to him over too much ale. But he put enough together to know that this home isn't meant for criminals and exiles. It's meant for what it once was-- a land rich in people, kingdoms, knowledge and magic.
It took his all to arrive here, and it's a fine spot to start. A pebble beach leads up to a small ravine above which tall bluffs overlook the sea. It's level there, trees, other vegetation-- even a little waterfall from a stream up the hill. As good a place as any to put down a stake, however temporary. He places his bag on the ground and begins an incantation, careful not to amplify it too much for fear of.... He just needs a little bit of time to establish an outpost. After that, he'll get to work on his true purpose.
And he knows he won't be alone for long...