The man before you stands six feet tall, displaying the honed physique of a warrior of middling years, with well-defined muscles gracing the span of his sturdy frame. Based on his robust build, one might be surprised to learn he possesses an uncanny speed and agility if ever given cause to utilize it, capable of surprisingly deft movement. His posture and gait is disciplined, measured so as to waste no energy in vain, yet carries a savage quality that defies association with any conventional military training.

Indeed, one need not look much closer to discern that this man is not a soldier. His attire, typically composed of hides, furs, leathers, even scales, speaks of a man who dresses to ward off the harsh elements, as much at home in the wilds or on the open road as he is in the city, if not more so. Clearly a traveler who favors a practical approach to adornment, which judging by the odd bits of strategically situated armor and the presence of an arsenal of weaponry on his person involves treading many a perilous road, he however does not stand out in a crowd at first or even second glance. Favoring earthly hues and muted tones and attire which melds into the background, he seems the type to dislike drawing attention to himself, whether in the wilderness or civilization. Further, he often wears a thick cloak woven to provide ample camoflage in his chosen scenery.

He bears an impressive array of weaponry when dressed for the road, ranging from a crossbow holstered at his back with two separate quivers within easy reach, to the more prominent swords of exotic craftsmanship sheathed and secured on his person. Notably, the materials and runes adorning the blades are unusual in origin, but closer inspection would be required to make sense of their nature and purpose. So too do the bolts holstered in his quiver vary in form and appearance, from jagged, dark iron to what appears to be silver-plated tips. In a similar fashion the pair of swords he wields vary in form, and likely function, and the blades he wields tend to vary from day to day, likely depending on the task before him.

Further setting him aside from the average traveler upon closer inspection, the man is adorned with trinkets - many concealed beneath his garments - of questionable function in his otherwise utilitarian assortment of equipment. Most notably, he wears a silver talisman around his neck bearing an archaic rune of some sort, strung using peculiar, thin rope. His wrists are adorned in metal bands of a similar nature, inlaid with protective runes. Hanging from his belt is an array of occult talismans, ranging from trinkets of carved bone to dark iron rings inlaid with runes, with raven feathers and even herbs woven across the metal bands. While more such curious charms are likely concealed in the numerous pouches lining his belt, one has to wonder what purpose the numerous unusual artifacts serve? Do they offer magical protection of some sort, or are they merely there to console a superstitious mind?

In casual conversation amidst strangers, he commonly bears a composed demeanor, observing all that transpires through eyes of dark auburn which appear nearly black in dim lighting. He seems the type to listen attentively and sift through every detail while weighing his own words carefully, and when he speaks it is in a rich, if somewhat quiet voice which lends itself well to subtle dealings amidst tavern smoke and the warmth of an open hearth. If roused, his voice nevertheless proves capable of deep, audible shouts carrying a gravelly undercurrent within. A sharp, attentive gaze, coupled with his rugged, almost haggard countenance as well as the carefully measured manner in which he acts and speaks give the impression of a traveler of many a long road struggling defiantly to resist a world-weariness that threatens to cast a shadow over his every step.

If seen shirtless, his otherwise finely chiseled physique takes a grim turn with the marring of numerous vicious scars covering his torso and arms. Many are of considerable size, spanning his chest, abdomen, flank and back, imparting hints of the fierce battles he's survived, somehow. Some call to mind great, jagged claws, while others are more linear slashes or even the occasional burn. Others still cause one to wonder what manner of horrible beast nearly overcame him. What is readily obvious, however, is that most of the scars were "gifted" from decidedly inhuman sources.

Examining his countenance further, a strong jaw underlines a similarly robust facial structure of rounded features, only marred by three streaking scars crossing his face, running diagonally from his forehead down his nose and right eye to end just below. They appear to be the work of something viciously clawed, but have healed well, appearing as little more than thin reddish streaks across the upper right part of his face in present day. His dark auburn hair matches his eyes and is usually kept trimmed short. When wetted it takes on a nearly black, full, prickly appearance, reminiscent of a hedgehog's barbed exterior, if slightly shorter. In a pale echo of this, prominent stubble covers the entirety of the lower half of his face, granting him a gruff appearance. His hair and stubble display faint signs of greying, affording him a mature disposition. In spite of this, his toned physique, the vivaciousness of his movements, as well as the intensity of his gaze call to question just how old he is. Middle-aged, certainly, but in his thirties? Early forties? It's difficult to discern with any finality as his skin bears few signs of aging, contradicting the appearance of age visible in his hair. Regardless, the passing of years does not appear to have slowed him. While his demeanor seems stern at a glance and somewhat imposing, in no small part due to the unyielding stare that meets the eyes of those who approach him, one might be surprised at the man's capability to carry a jovial conversation and an at least partially welcoming attitude.