To say Brulk was an ugly man would be like stating a bear is a hairy animal. Even prior to his first scar, he wasn't anything special to look at. He appears to be in his late forties, maybe older, as it's hard to tell due to sunken eyes, leathery skin and a forehead rich with frown lines. He often wears a shabby looking beard, pinkish flesh peeking out from the half dozen or so spots of hairless patches. His hair grows at a dark brown colour, though strands of grey are becoming ever more common place amongst it's straw-like strands. It's generally worn down to his shoulders.

Brulk is often considered a short man, standing at around five foot eight, however he's far from small.  His build is a heavy one, familiar to a labourer of some kind. Broad shoulders and barrel chested. His face is battered and bruised, showing signs of many physical confrontations or a terribly clumbsy shaving hand. His right eye is missing, a swollen mess of a scar connects from between his eyebrows, through his empty socket and around his head to where his right ear used to be, now all that remains is an nub of gristle. He has a ring shaped cut on his chin, and is missing a small nick from his left cheek.  Some might say he looks as though someone tried poking out the right side of his face with a spear, and most folk would agree.

Though he claims to wash once a week, a certain stench of sweat is a common to Brulk as the outfit he wears. The tattered remains of a half decent cotton cloak lay shawled over his shoulders. His linens are of a dark burgundy and walnut brown, his leggings are trimmed with leather and a skirt of tradition Creoth style. Upon his torso he wears a burgundy undershirt and an old chestplate of acid-washed steel. Simple, well worn boots adorn his feet and a leather bracers cover his wrists. The right of which contains a dagger, as does his left boot. At his waist hang one of two swords, a slender antique looking blade of what might pass for Elvish craft and a broad sword of Hillman design. A simple, leather over wood kite shield is often found strapped over his left arm.

What might strike the casual observer as odd is upon this bundle of angry-looking sellsword lay an emerald trinket. A pendant, though worn around his wrist rather than his neck. The artifact looks to be of some value, crafted from silver and adorned with a large emerald. It's Craftsman is said to have uttered words over the piece, though if those were of a curse or blessing remains to be seen. An equally odd trinket acts as a clasp over his right shoulder, holding the tattered remains of his cloak in place. Shaped like a seven pointed star, this trinket marks him out as a member of the Order of the Seven