A grim and somewhat shabby man at first glance.
Standing over six feet with a wiry physique, A few wrinkles and marks of an ''interesting'' life mark his face. He has pale complexion with grey eyes like a storm cloud.

Thick mud colored (Or perhaps it is mud?) brown wavy shoulder length hair parted roughly in the middle and a course mutton chop beard frames his face

He is always quick to crack a smile and his eye seems to wink of its own accord. In moments alone an expression of stony purpose and perhaps a distant grief can be seen on his weather beaten face.
 

Most commonly dressed in road worn robes and solid and dependable boots and gloves. With a hood or hate when the weather is feeling testy.

A pack on his back contains all his wilderness necessities, his pipe, flute and lute, healing salves, food spices, assorted scrIbbles and torn maps, and curiosities and trinkets found on his travels. 

Always at his side, his staff Malscrung and trusty sword Hrimcaeld.