Kerrow walked through the great tavern doors and stared in awe at the sight before his eyes. He felt slightly dazed as he sat at a nearby booth and took of his backpack. He opened his sketchbook and started to doodle away with a piece of charcoal, glancing up over the top to sneak glances at travelers and adventurers, the people whom he had revered and worshiped in his childhood.
Kerrow is not remarkable at all. He has mousy brown hair and big hazel eyes, and a spray of freckles over his sun beaten face. He has a well toned physique, not muscly or strong in any way, just what he had built up working on a farm in his teenage years. He has a blue traveling cloak with a big white rose attached to the front, and a scarf that looks far too long for someone of his stature.