Phenomonally disappointed that Anavren wasn't pommelled, Steven rolls his eyes and climbs on his donkey as they move out, being morosely quiet for the remainder of the journey, only occasionally mumbling something unpleasant to no one in particular.
Steven is a small, wiry man wearing spiked studded leather armor and a long kilt of the Perrenland lowlands, his eyes are wild and dart about erratically as he speaks. Blue paint adorns his face in criss-crossed stripes above his eyes.