The last thing Frey could remember was sparring with those young fighters on the western continent. And then... he woke up in a completely different place. He was alone, in a field and extremely groggy. Looking up he saw what looked like a water ripple, but it was rather mid-airish, and directly above him. Then without a sound it stopped, and it seemed like nothing had happened.
.....the hell?
He took a minute or two to regain his composure, then stood up and looked around. It was cold, and kind of windy. Frey then sniffed the air, in answer to his grumbling stomach, and he smelt the unmistakeable smell of vomit and beer. Smells like home, lets see what we got. And with that he took off at a good run towards the scent. Not too long after he entered a small bustling village, it wasnt anything too special, and the streets werent terribly crowded. So he figured walkabout would be the best way to find some grub.