Morrec is a lowborn Northerner.
Morrec doesn't have an ounce of noble blood in his body. He was born in the North to a thief and a lowborn woman, and has never aspired for much beyond the simple life of survival he's always known.
Not the brightest man one will ever meet, he doesn't often plan further than a week into the future, earning his living as a hunter although "poacher" might be a more accurate title. Morrec's family is dead and he lives only for himself, earning what coin he can through selling what he hunts and taking anything else he needs by force.
At age forty or nigh onto, he's resourceful, but almost utterly without a moral compass.
“A man can lose fingers thinking he’s fine, or go to sleep fine and never wake up again. Snow bites and wind howls and cold pierces like a knife. The north is a fanged beast and fine is a wooden sword.” - Morrec to Orson Blackwood