Editing Murglen Clovenjaw (section)

==Biographical Info==
*'''Name: Murglen Clovenjaw'''
*'''Sex: '''Male
*'''Age: '''39
*'''Height: '''6'7"
*'''Weight'''
*'''Hair: '''Long, grey and straight, tied in a plait
*'''Eyes: '''Light Grey
*'''Skin:''' Very pale
*'''History and Personality'''
Over twenty years of fighting has left its mark on Murglen, and the hale young man he was is unrecognisable today. Seven years ago he took a great stroke from an axe, sundering his helmet and smashing his face. As he crawled away, sobbing in pain, he was pinned to the ground by a finishing stroke. He should have died there and then, and has on more than one occasion since wished he had, but fate left him alive and ruined. It took almost a year to recover, but recover he did.

Murglen has no desire to be saturnine, but his constant pain makes it difficult for him to feel real happiness. He is something of a killjoy, and is prone to prophesying catastrophe. This makes him seek out happier people, and he quietly basks in thier good moods, carefully choosing his words so as not to ruin the moment. All this means he is slow and measured in his words, but by no means silent. Murglen drinks almost constantly, but only to dull the pain.
*'''Description'''

Murglen Clovenjaw is tall, over 6'7" and painfully thin, making him appear even taller. He is a war dog who has wandered these five years with sword in hand, seeking evidence of the gods, but finding only disappointment.

In appearance he is gaunt to the point of emaciation, and his prematurely grey long hair and lined face tells of the deep pain from which he still suffers. Usually all that can be seen of his face is his sunken eyes, brilliantly light grey, over a tattered cloth covering his lower face. Beneath this cloth is his wrecked features, a torn mouth and disfigured jaw which he covers to spare the sight to others. His armour is a collection of components taken from many stricken fields, and he wears a grey iron kettle hat and bevor on his head, guarding his face. His battered armour is seems almost purposefully mismatched, but each component has been chosen for ease of use in disregard for fashion. The round shield is plain and shows no devise, and his sword is notched in places, but everything is functional. Indeed, Murglen would rather wear his sweat-stained arming doublet* with it's tattered maille gussets than comfortable clothing. He has a strong attachment to things he knows well, and is loathe to throw away things like his holed and worn grey cloak of which he is quite fond. Murglen has a brown iron bill with which he walks, using it much like a more martial version of a wanderer's staff to take some of the weight of his thin shoulders.

(*As 'Leather Armour')