Having already become bored with the rest stop, one member of the newly formed party found himself a bit at the fore, standing upon a large, flat stone which may well have once been part of some ancient monument. The lithe man's boots were polished to a sheen as was the soft but durable black and burgundy leather of his armor, each of the small studs had been crafted in the shape of animal skulls, cats, weasels, rats, foxes and others without names. Upon his head was a wide-brimmed black hat, carefully brushed and adorned with a wide band of deep burgundy silk which streamed down his back and floated lazily in the breeze. In contrast to the meticulous appearance of his other accouterments, there was slung from his waist a battered rapier which had the look of having been scavenged from a blacksmith's scrap bin... but it hung with a subtle angle which noted a practiced hand might instantly draw it when needed. On the opposite hip were dual scabbards carrying a curved shortsword of similarly scrap-worthy quality, and a gaudy dagger with burgundy danglies hanging from the heel which was in the shape of a large tooth.

He stood in a comfortable stance, weight slightly forward on his toes, shoulders back slightly and broad, a mane of dark hair flowing down half-way to his waist. His hands were encased in thin, oiled goatskin gloves, hands that could grip a blade, caress a babe and tickle a tumbler, toyed with another dagger, plain and nondescript save an odd spot of rust near the blackened steel crosspiece. It danced rapidly, over and under, whirling and spinning. The man's sharp, fey-like features were set between contemplation and a smirk at some private humorous observation. With a smoothing of a well-oiled mustache, Von Quentin hid the smile that played about his lips.

I was a highwayman
Along the Coast Road I did ride
With sword and rapier by my side
Many a young maid lost her baubles to my trade
Many a soldier shed his lifeblood on my blade
The bastards hung me in the spring of twenty-five
But I am still alive!

- Willie Nelson (The Highwayman)