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The second son born to the Merrick of Highrock, brother of the lord of the house. He was not afforded the level of 'affection' his father had for his siblings. It was believed that he was not Merricks true son, a suspicion his father often contemplated over a mug of Ale and the back of his hand. Tig was a bright child once full of joy. He would often spend much of his time recovering from broken bones or other injuries after one of his father's bi yearly 'examinations' in bed with books or tutors at his side. Over the years as he grew up his siblings saw the light in his eyes grow dimmer and dimmer and more guarded. His mother had little use for him other than as a thing to trot out when she wanted to show off her 'Civilized' child and saw to his education in the social graces. Otherwise, she had little time for him. His father had little patients or interest in him other than making him a tool for the house. It was thus that any true rearing was at the hands of his older brother Teague. Often when they were young if Teague was home Tigarus was his little shadow following in his wake or hiding close at hand. As the years passed, he never lost his deep affection for his siblings though his exterior demeanor became more and more closed and he spent his time more isolated in the world of finance and his more esoteric pursuits into the occult and shamanism. The one good thing his family did for him was to afford him the best education that could be bought though his father never failed to remind him with a few scars just how much of a fortune it was costing him. When Merrick passed Tigarus eschewed traditional morning and instead threw a lavish Ball it was his first and only such event. With Maegans departure and the appointment of his Brother as Voice he has taken over as the house's Master of Coin, a role he was groomed for. Recently he returned from traveling abroad to various institutes of higher learning and scholastic endeavors, perhaps also quietly he pursued deeper arts. He has announced a series of infrastructure changes and improvements he intends to make to Glacial Grove. He has long spoken passionately of the waste and squandering he sees. He has big plans for elevating the economic status of his people.

This man stands at 6' exactly with a wiry build, lean but muscular like a dancer. His clothing is normally simple of design but expertly made and tailored. His face bears little expression to betray what goes on beneath and his framed in long braids of dark hair. Small ornaments can be seen to flash here and there this jewelry seems to be the man's only concession to affectionation. His skin is smooth and flawless, a deep bronze mocha unweathered by the elements. Contrasting the figure he imposes are a set of brilliant azure eyes, alive with brewing storms and intellect. His mouth is neither cruel nor kind, capable of shining the brightest smile or delivering the most withering rebuke. He is a study of neutrality and contrasts given form.

Quiet and thoughtful. Capable of talking verbosely and with eloquence he rarely speaks unless he feels something needs to be said. A storm brews beneath a closed exterior. His true friendship is hard won but his loyalty is without peer. Slow to affection few are allowed behind the curtain to see what lays within.