Tall and ruggedly handsome, Grayson's pretty-but-rough exterior is the stuff romance novels are made of. Plump flesh of thick banded muscles twists around a long and graceful skeleton blessed with a chest and shoulders that are broad and powerful. Despite his obvious strength, you'd hardly call him a hulking tower of man-meat, instead his form cuts graceful lines and he displays an obvious dexterity. Moving with a dancer's precision when required. His hair flows in long dark locks of a deep ink black, and atop his outdoorsy, richly tanned skin he has an underworld air of swarthiness -- as though there were something raw and wild about him.

And so it was that Grayson was your typical diamond-in-the-rough -- a roguish dreamboat but nothing but mischief in his eyes and a promise of a good time on his lips. And yet, while he may slot into the Siniferian profile with relative ease, it doesn't take long to work out that there is something a little exotic about Gray.

An aysmmetrical cut in his clothing, a flash of red where it shouldn't be, little in the way of complex gadgetry but an everpresent lockpick and a dagger wedged in his belt or boot. There's a vivacious, gregarious streak to his eerily piercing pale blue eyes -- some kind of childishness buried within that rugged exterior. And yet you've a feeling he's walked a few miles. There's a scar cutting from an inch to the left of his nose diagonally inwards towards the centre of his plump upper lip. When he isn't the centre of attention, occupied in acrobatic feats of deadly daring, or animated in any form of mischief or conversation -- Grayson's gaze cuts a solitary line into the distance, a thousand-yard, contemplative stare that often ignores the presence of reality. If it is daydreaming, the handsome rogue surely has a troubled-looking resting face.

Almost never without a tartan cloak that is a murky mix of blacks and grays from light to dark slashed with streaks of a pale thistle-like purple -- the garment's colouring almost seems a reflection of the rogue's personality. It is, however, clearly something else entirely to him -- as soon as he speaks the unmistakeable, warm and whimsical lilt of the Moonshae Isles dances from his tongue.