Eyes wander often in the world, but those that chose to lay their gaze upon the man known as Ike would swiftly be treated to a sight that seemed well out of place.

The stalwart man was built as if his every feature was carefully chiseled into stone by a skilled and experienced sculptor. He had the rugged look of a man whose features had seen better days, though it didn't take much effort to recognize that he clearly sought to maintain himself, regardless.

Ike often boasted at least a few days' worth of stubble, though it was clear he wasn't as unkempt as he could've been. He at least tried to keep his countenance regularly shaved. Silvery eyes contended with the world from beneath two stern brows that were slightly lighter in color than the jet black hair combed back over his head. His face was riddled with an amalgamation of scars, tattoos, and piercings, all laid together in a moderate quantity.

He wore two decorative necklaces around his neck with no obvious, significant meaning, though it could be wagered that they likely meant something to him. Though the man was often seen wielding a halberd or a greatsword, two scabbards laid across his backside, crossed diagonally. Each sheath carried one half of a twin pair of longswords that served as backup weapons in case his larger weapons of choice were unavailable.

Whether Ike was dressed modestly on any given day of the week was anyone's guess. He could be seen in as little as a simple loin cloth that left little to the imagination (save for the substantive burden between his legs), or a much more concealing, nearly all-black outfit that left far less on display.

Most notably, however, and doubtlessly the detail that made him stand out from the crowd the most: Ike was often shadowed by one if not a pair of feral, stygian wolves. The massive beasts were often seen snarling or snapping at nearby civilians inexplicably, and their wide maws were frequently painted with the sanguine lifeblood of their most recent conquests.