Standing a full six-foot six, this broad shouldered northman towers over all or most in any room he walks into.  Corded muscle under sun-touched skin defines every aspect of his physique, shaped and hardened into a defined and formidably strong whole by a life that surely includes great familiarity with intensely hard labor.  His moderately thick accent and deep voice with timber suggestive of the solidity of oak do nothing to dispel that impression, while his medium red hair, normally worn free to reach those broad shoulders, green eyes and strong jaw define a look that is ruggedly handsome to friend, while formidably daunting to foe when set to the determine of contest.

A more complete picture is painted when one sees him outfitted in full fighting gear, which includes a dated but well kept banded steel breastplate and sturdy accompanying arm and leg guards, along with a proudly worn red and black kilt that harkens to family heritage coming from some distant corner of the now shattered Empire.  Accompanying the armor, and perhaps the most imposing thing of all about the man, is the huge two-handed claymore worn sheathed at his back that his height and exceptionally strong stature seem meant to wield.  The sword, like the armor, would seem to be an heirloom that has seen at least several generations of passage from father to son.