Damarcen Grenn is a man of imposing size, and fine musculature. But he does not move like a common strongman thug. No, his gait and movements are more akin to a jungle cat's than a man's. That is the very first thing that draws the eye when Damarcen enters a town. The next bit of information that filters into the brain is the dented and road-worn armor that covers his wide frame. Especially the sallet helm, which he never seems to remove when in public. And finally, inquisitive eyes fall on the wide assortment of weapons on his person. An almost comical amount, to be honest. But one look at the big man's hard-set jaw, and one can tell that comedy is not his business.

Damarcen Grenn is a man of action.

Based on his intimidating appearance, most people assume that Damarcen is a grim man of ill-humor. Which could not be farther from the truth. He is a pragmatist true, but he is neither cruel or rude. His upbringing would never allow him to be those things. Certainly in the midst of battle or a tense situation he can be terse and tactless, but so are most people. When not on the hunt, of in the midst of combat, there is a down to earth soul under all that armor and weaponry. Damarcen enjoys a good drink, good company, and a good hand of cards. He is no hedonist, but he has very little opportunity to enjoy more intellectual pursuits when he is on the road. But he can bark with laughter with the best of them. In the rare times that he is able to pursue more varied pleasure, it might surprise some people that he loves reading books of history with an almost voracious appetite. There is more to this man than a simple hunter of men, loyal only to coin.