This man wanders about the woods and ruins of the North, collecting herbs, plants, and trinkets. Although seemingly wrinkled and bent by old age, he stands taller than most northmen. He is clad in worn and mended clothes, which might have been green and brown in the past. There is a longsword on a belt on his waist, the only apparent item of value. It is of strange making, unlike those few crafted by the men of Bree, or Trestlebridge, and most certainly not of dwarf-make. His eyes are gray and as sharp as his sword: a window which, at times, allows a glimpse into some inner strength that seems out of place in such an elder.