Ralston Allcott

A man sat beside the driver of the wagon, having preferred to stay alert during their journey. He wore a deep red cloak over his well shined armor, a sure way to stick out in such a drab and dreary as Barovia.

When the wagon came to a halt he grabbed his pack and hopped down with the clink and chang of heavy armor plates sounding when his feet hit the road. He slung his pack over his shoulder, turning to look at the companions this journey had afforded him.

"Agreed Mr.Peppers. This gloom is not very inviting, let us hope that the gates of the town give us more hospitality."

He turned to attend to the wagon, making sure nothing of the groups was left behind.