Karandras was hesitant around Mon-Keigh. His natural urge was to hide himself from view but that fostered mistrust among the young races. His destiny had called him here, part of a myriad of adventures across the Webway as he hunted his former teacher; Ahra, Father of Scorpions and Fallen Phoenix who burned with the dark light of Chaos. Karandras had tempered the murderous nature of his precursor with the patience of the hunter and assumed the mantle of Phoenix Lord of the Striking Scorpions and had spread his teachings across many Craftwords for millenia.
So accustomed was he to battle, locked in an endless state of it as he was, that he had little clue what to do here. Something was fated here, something he had to partake in and so he settled into a low stance and watched from a moderate distance, his green armour with interlocking plates of along with gold trim was littered with accesseries and trinkets. Runes that shimmered and danced from necklaces and wrappings as well as complex woven straps for him to holster his Scorpion Chainsword, which he did so to free his left hand. He was still. A sentinel of eons and a patient hunter.