[@Game Maker] OOC: I'm gonna assume the older elf is me, let me know if I'm wrong

It was always fun pretending to be old for Beivan, he was wearing a long grey cloak that covered most of his body and some shorts under it, he was slouching and holding a quarter staff with both hands, using it as a oversized walking stick, to the crowd he'd appear to be a frail old fart, when in reality it's likely he could beat up at least 50% of the people in front of him, this was done to make people underestimate him, enemies were everywhere and no one expects a old man to beat the crap out of you.

He was sad at the large amount of humans in the group, but hid that emotion from the crowd, he felt a fire burn his flesh every time he saw a human, those pathetic things that ruled his land, his home, all humans claimed they were special, when in reality to him they were demons, it wasn't fair that the same people who killed his parents would live 20 years when his parents would've lived 200. 

Yet Beivan needed to rely on what he hated most. he knew his quest would be hindered by them as he wouldn't be able to tell them what the Artifact really does, legend has it that if the Bronze Sphere broke open, it would release a large flood that would drown all the humans and bring back the good old days when Ulna Themar was ruled by Elves.

However, his whole life had lead up to this moment, if he failed to find anyone who would join him, his quest would certainly end with his death, and 400 years of effort would slide down the drain.