It was early evening as a figure appeared on the hill looking down upon a town right next to the magical barrier. The figure watched as half of the local garrison marched off to join the Human armies and fight against the rebellion. The figure's thick cape made out of a bear skin moved ever so slightly in the breeze. The thing was heavy enough that even the strongest winds could not make it cause a flapping sound. The man began the trek down the hill and soon enough found himself by the town gates where a centaur guard waited for him.
"Halt! Who goes there?" the guard asked and the figure stopped within a spear's length of the Centaur.
"I am called Alexander. I wish to rest in this town before continuing north" he answered and stepped forth. His iron crown was dusty and a mere remnant of the times when his tribe was mighty and rich. The large jewel in the middle of his forehead was glowing in the light even if there was quite a layer of dust on top of it. There was no shirt on the rough man's body and the pants were made of thick leather. On his feet were large boots that looked enduring enough that a wolf could bite into them without being able to sink it's teeth through them.
"You are a Barbarian, are you not? Why would a mighty Prince approach a lightly garrisoned town alone?" the centaur guard asked, looking nervously to the hills like waiting for more Barbarians coming swarming down to ransack the town.
"You are correct. I am a Barbarian Prince as you say, but my tribe was wiped out many years ago. A Centaur saved me from dying in the wilderness. Would you not let me inside your walled town so I can rest my tired feet?" Alexander asked and the Centaur glanced at him. After a short look upon the hills, he opened the gate and let the large man inside. As he walked down the street, many locals cowered as the increasing barbarian raids on the border towns were well known to them. He entered the inn quietly and sought himself into a shaded corner after ordering an ale. The prince took out his short pipe and began smoking it quietly
"Our posturings, our imagined self-importance,
the delusion that we have some privileged position in the universe,
are challenged by this point of pale light.
Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
In our obscurity – in all this vastness – there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves."
- Carl Sagan