"You don't become a merchant in the city of sand without learning a few things."
User: Deckhart
Race: Human
Gender: Male
Role: Leader
Class/Level: Merchant (Rogue / Fighter)/2
Clifton deGrey is an old man by all appearances. His stance is crooked when he is not sitting and his eyes are heavy lidded. When he walks he takes small steps and when he smiles it is with the corners of his mouth. It never reaches the corners of his eyes.

He speaks with a thick Galtic accent and his words have been known to slur further whenever he partakes in a glass or two more of wine than he should.

His hair is the color of aging steel and his eyes, the same as snowdrifts. He never seems to blink, no matter how long he is watched. But he has, at least, earned his moniker honestly.

The other traders call him Greyman, and that seems to suit him fine.
He is a textile merchant by trade and one does not get to occupy that seat in Katapesh without being a shrewd business man. He is clever and he is smart and he always knows more than he lets on, even if he is slow to share it.

He is friendly but never obsequious, he can be firm but he is never heavy handed. There is still something off about him, however. Most clerics can feel a chill when he passes by, and even others more in touch with the divine know that whatever it is comes off him in waves.

Perhaps this old man is not all that he appears.