His hair is blond and often unkempt, wild in appearance. His eyes sit as dull emeralds in his skull. A number of milk-white lines dip from his scalp into his forehead and cheeks--scars, it would seem.

Should any part of him be visible from the neck down: his body is a canvas of strange and colourful tattoos.  Ships afloat, eyes watching, dead men hanging, dragons flying, women singing, swords swinging, a cast of characters as far reaching as the breadth of his shoulders. A full account of his artwork would be dizzying; every turn of his skin remakes the world. His hands and feet are mostly unpainted.

For every story, it seems, he has a silver piercing to match.  His lips, ears and nose are riddled with a stud too many, leaving no patch of skin barren.

The palms of his hands are rough and calloused.  His bones are bound by flesh made from labour. His nails are hard. His smile is wan.