Morcaer is a young man from Fenmarch in the Eastfold, whose reputation and renown often precedes him. His face is almost boyish, youthful, and the freckles on his cheeks are stretched when he smiles—which is rare. More often does he bear a grim countenance, only daring to smile when conversationally appropriate. He’s of middling height, not remarkably tall, standing around 5’9” when he draws himself up to his full stature. Morcaer carries a more compact frame, muscled deceptively underneath his layers of armor and his helm and his cloak.

He dresses in fine armor, polished to a gleam in the golden Riddermark sunlight, with a sword at his hip whose pommel is fashioned into two opposing horse heads. He bears also a dagger, plain and unadorned. When not armored for combat, he dresses in neutral colors; tunics of greys, blacks, or browns. Occasionally he dons the finery: vivid blue hues, usually, with fine stitching and a silk cloak to match.

Some stories depict him as being tall, with fair hair and skin, though Morcaer’s skin is warmer toned, and his hair is a deep and dark brown, with reddish tints only when the light hits it. He keeps it braided up and out of his face, though if left loose, it would fall around his shoulders. One thing that all of the rumors appear to agree on is the color of his eyes, which are a dark brown and intense when he fixes his gaze on something. Most rumors surrounding Morcaer of Fenmarch and his appearance—his height, his bearded chin, his quickness to smile—appear to be wrong. This man is anything but what the stories tell.

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