'Winter is coming.' - A Game of Thrones.
 

This man moves with the air of tracker, hunter and woodsman. His aurburn hair seems as wild as the vivid blue eyes which peer over you in turn as you regard him. Asvald it seems is one of those people who always seems to be looking right back at you, when ever you look his way.

His clothing is the ruggid, heavy leather, and fur of the north. Though on his soujourns he seems to have learnt to adapt local styles, such as the lighter, tan colours of a nomad when in the desert, or the occasional more groomed appearence when dealing with his least favourite of places. The 'vipers nest' of city politics.

His build is wirey and lean, though you'll not see much fat on this man. Corded muscle and sinew make up Asvald's athletic physique. His shoulders are broad and well develloped, thighs corded and equally maintained. A sword hangs from his hip, and a shield from his back in most cases. Though he's been known to find a second blade when required.
His ties to the ancestors, and spirits of his homeland have granted him a minor pool of spells and invokations he'll use in times of need.

At his heels, is often the shaggy coated form of a snow-white wolf.