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About average, that is the height and looks of Alfred Elpin.
Hair, silvered and gray from over fifty years of life, has grown ragged and unkempt, partially covering a scar that trails down the left side of his face from his hairline to the edge of his weathered jaw. Hazel-colored eyes flit to and fro - never settling in one place for long. His cheeks are sunken, and his face is gaunt. Beneath heavy armor is an agile frame laden with tightly strung muscles that are neither bulging nor mistakable for wheat stalks.
Several bundles of dried mint, singed and poorly scented, are tied together and hang from his pack and armor.
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