When compared to those glamorous denizens of the city of Sinfar, he would not be in the running competition. His hair too roughly hewn. Though the shaggy white frays framed his scarred face. The most prominent and noticeable of which drew across his right eye, which was left blind. His nose crooked, a telltale sign of several breaks. Though his ears still held proud points, showing part of his heritage.

Still, he would carry a smile from time to time. His posture always held lightly and often seen with a hand resting on the pommel of his blade.

Free of any jewelry on his hands. His ornaments were that of the myriad of scars littered across his frame. Two clear rings on each wrist, long since faded to the passage of time. Some are better hidden.