Name: Drust Lugubelenus<br/>Age: 83 [appears 21]<br/>Gender: Male<br/>Race: Elfen<br/>Appearance: Long, cinnamon-brown hair, clear blue eyes, dressed in forest hues of pants and tunic and cloaked in a brown Elven cloak.<br/>Power/skills: archery, speaking to trees/animals, tracking, great endurance, partial psychic ability<br/>Equipment: bows and arrows, a short curved sword, daggar, scrying stone<br/>Other: quiet and contemplative, he prefers a solitary nook in the bar instead of a crowd<br/><br/><br/>In a solitary corner of the bar, Drust raised a cloaked eyebrow at the intrusion of the woman. He smiled a bit at the boldness of the human woman, nursing his drink as he awaited the reaction of the rowdy patrons. He had no doubt that she could take care of herself, but was ready to help if need be.<br/><br/>Drust had wandered into the human realms several months ago, seemingly aimless as he drifted from village to village. He had a reason for his wanderings, but kept that reason to himself. Several had tried to help him, to tag along as it were, but he would have none of it. And so he found himself in his latest village, staring at an ancient map as he contemplated his next move.