(WIP)

A youthful face marred by nicks, cuts and the occassional burn. An appraising glance that might be alluring if not for the exhausted, judgement drooping of eyelids the moment his eyes cast away from a person-Lethold paints the picture of one who didn't get much of a chance to enjoy the softer things in life, and so elected to not be one of them himself.

It is exceedingly rare to see the man out of  his silver inlaid armour-All at once ornate and functional. Perpetually, he also keeps a sword or two on hand as well.