Elias Dusan Argyrus

Elias hated the countryside, he was a city boy, having grown up in Specularum. At least in the city there were doorways to hide out of the rain, or warm taverns were a profitable hand of cards could be played. He could feel the cold beginning to settle on his chest. Coughing fits to look forward to then, what joy.
Still he had promised his mother he would carry letters to relatives in Threshold. He’d never been there himself, but that is were his mother had lived and met a young soldier. When his term of service had finished the couple and their young family, Elias’ elder brothers and his older sister, had moved to Specularum.

For once Elias was glad he hadn’t been big enough for the army. The thought of his brother Damian, who had been serving up here for nearly a year now, brought a smile to his face.

Elias stood about 5’8” and always seemed to look like he needed a good meal or two. He pulled his dark green, hooded cloak tighter about him. One of the others seemed to have spotted some shelter ahead. Not the sort of place he would have picked, but at least it was dry.

Elias settled down with his back to the fire and removing some of his damp clothing, to allow it and him to dry. Unscrewing the top and bottom of his staff with practised ease, he was left with a flute. With this he began to play the lilting melody of a Trahadar folk song. This kept both his fingers lithe and helped strengthen his lungs. After a few minutes playing a variety of tunes he turned to the others.
“Anyone fancy playing this game of chance I’ve been trying to learn. I believe it’s called poker.” Smiling he produced a pack of cards.