A listless mountain of a man with skin the color of parched tobacco and deep-set eyes that look like they have seen the horizon burn. His movement is a lurching, rhythmic stomp due to a peg-leg carved from a leviathan's jawbone, polished to a ghostly white and engraved with sea-beasts. Paradoxically, his shop is a chaotic wreck of rusted anchors and rotted netting, yet he keeps a single, perfectly blooming orchid in a crystal vase on his counter. His presence is heavy, smelling of old salt, peppermint, and whale oil.

Marrow is a man of rigid nautical discipline trapped in a civilian's life. He is fiercely loyal to those who show him respect but treats most customers with a biting sarcasm that borders on hostility. While he is a miserly haggler when selling his junk, he is secretly generous to the orphans of the docks, often 'losing' food near them. He is haunted by the loss of his ship and moves between cold, calculating bitterness and explosive bursts of maritime pride.

Once a respected privateer for the Crown, Marrow was the captain of the 'Gilded Maw' until his first mate, Vane, led a mutiny that cost Marrow his leg and his vessel. Vane did not just take the ship; he took a specific sealed crate of 'cargo' that Marrow had sworn to protect with his life. Now, Marrow operates a salvage shop in the grimiest corner of the port, spending his days repairing junk and his nights watching the horizon for the 'Gilded Maw's' sails. He has finally tracked Vane's thugs to a nearby warehouse but knows his own fighting days are limited by his mobility.