The stranger stands six feel tall, his dark hair neatly cropped back. His frame is clad in worn but well serviced leathers, a cloak of forest green draped loosely across his shoulders.
  About his waist, beside a well used hunting knife and a small pouch, hangs a longsword in a simple scabbard. At his back a quiver of arrows fletched in grey goose feathers.
      His rugged features are set off by his watchful blue eyes, creased in the corners with signs of his middle years.
     His weathered countenance betrays him as one who has  spent much time in the wilderness, and yet he's like no common woodsman.  
   His poise and manner appear unusually upright and dignified, his voice crisp and clear, bearing no discernable accent.
 If you ask his name, he'll tell you "Aerwin,....   just Aerwin."