The sound of the cluster of people fills the air, Daveen pushes away the hands that reach out to her frantically, the same hands that part when the Skile riders get close and a man jumps off of the moving black beast.
This lord Vesten is old, grey-haired, and still nimble.
Grey stubble sits below a wide nose, thin lips, and a wrinkled forehead that tells me he spends most of his time in deep concentration.
The way his face is shaped reminds me of Fegha, with a chiseled jaw and wide-set eyes, the two could be related.
Lord Vesten has his hair tied back in a long ponytail that falls to his shoulders, and although he is older he still has a full head of silk grey.
The man is just under six feet, but unlike most big guys he moves with the grace of a ballerina, the long sword on his hip resembles Feghas design, length, and width.
