Despite a name that might seem more fit on a simpering noble swain, Credence was the model of a soldier. Not a warrior, as that conjures up images of of noble paladins and brave knights on shining steeds. No, a soldier - the sort that looked happier to be lurking around the edges of a fire with a half-smoked cigarette and trying to distract the sergeant from the fact he hadn't shaved that morning. The sort that would curse a man for giving him a scar even as he avenged it and then boast later how he earned it to the tavern whores. Tall, dark, and rough around the edges. But he kept the beard nice and trimmed. at least. That counted for something.