Pellus

Pellus, a lean young man with a jaunty goutee and raffish (think bed-head) hair is sitting at the table in the corner. Leaned against the table is a sword with a ribon tied around its handle. Nearby patrons of the inn have stopped surrepitously stealing looks, and are now openly staring, as he continues to pack away the food. "More wine, my good sir!" He bellows heartily. "And another plate of these excellent cold cuts!" He pauses, eyes sparkling. As the barmaid comes near, he leans forward, saying in a whisper "perhaps later, my good lady, I could tell you the story of the crow and the spider?" As she pours his wine he looks down her blouse with great appreciation, then meets her eyes with a wink. With gusto, he tucks into the renewed pile of food in front of him.

Briefly, his eyes meet those of Blaze. For a moment, you see past the humor in his eyes. Time seems to slow down, and a shiver goes down your spine. Old. Incredibly so. That is what his eyes say. Then, the humor is back, and you begin to doubt the feeling. This man cannot be more than 25, at the oldest.