Geoffin Greenwill is a common man of Bree; brown of hair, with a tanned complexion, and malachite-determined oculi. Middle-aged, his countenance is riddled with corrugation, and his dark locks have begun to grey at the roots. He is tall...or would be, were he a woman, standing at a mere five feet, seven inches (5'7"). He walks with his chin held high, unless circumstance demands it be otherwise, as if he believes doing so might perhaps fancy him the taller individual?     

     He is often keen to voice his own opinions, doing so in a most feminine gossipy form, proclaiming his personal assessments and conclusions. His voice, it might be thought, is rather peculiar. It is low, rumbling, and strained in articulation, though simultaneously sophisticated in that it conveys a genteel and lilting fluidity. Regarding speech, he tends to indulge in intelligent discourse, yet somehow manages to be both sardonic and frank with every sentence.
      Though he seems reserved, and vulnerable, it must be recognized that his arms are not frail, despite being so thin and spindly as a spider's. This may be attributed to his many years of experience with a crossbow, which he is very eager to boast of. Still, those years are mostly behind him, for now he garbs himself in the sable, black-threaded vestments of a healer and physician, and is well-learned in this vocation. Furthermore, he is mostly so refined as a gentleman, bothering to regularly shave as any respectable, well-kept and well-to-do citizen should. This tedious, repetitive, and easily painful duty is deserving of credit, he might declare.