Kristofer had quite the form. His muscular body was built for the work he once loved with little to no scarring from battles past. Before he had possessed a blade of pride, but after his 'release' from the military he had turned to once more practicing his divine faith. His quick rise in the ranks of his peers leaving little to defeat him. His tireless training giving little way to a social life and quite often gave him a strange outlook to those who met him. He was awkward in some situations, mostly due to his upbrining keeping him locked away in the temple until he had come of age.

His hair is a perfect blonde flowing mane of gold that rolls over his shoulders and hangs loosely down his back, sometimes tied up in a small knot to keep it out of the way. There are several small braids that are inter-dispersed throughout his mane and seem to have some type of religious or spiritual context, with small metal beads woven into them as well. He can be seen now and then touching one of them and whispering a prayer in a ancient language.

The man wore light clothing that moved easily with his step. A step of one who had pride in his ways and his life. He had no care for those who hated themselves. A defeatist was just another fool in his mind. One who couldn't accept themselves and their chosen or given priorities.

His family has always been important to him. Though he wishes he could spend more time with them, it was difficult after what had happened to him recently. He felt a tinge of worry they may think him less of a strong warrior for putting aside his Uncle's Sword. He didn't wish to walk that path any longer though proud of his lineage.