Ragor was on the shorter side for an orc, only just seeming to crest six feet. His features were slightly softer as well. He didn't quite look as powerful as most other orcs, almost having a scrawny build. Or lean, if you were feeling generous. His fingers were slender and looked oddly soft for an orc, suggesting he didn't work with his hands that much. Though, the keen eyed might notice a few blackened scorch marks along his palms, and every so often there was a tiny crackle of electricity sparking from the tips of his fingers.

His eyes were a deep shade of yellow. He seemed to struggle with seeing at long distances, often squinting to spot finer details. There were times were his eyes had a faint glow to them, especially when he was deep in thought. Anyone with the faintest of arcane talent would recognize he had some inkling for magic, though it was hard to imagine it being particularly strong.

The one trait that truly seemed to match his bloodline was his deeper voice. Ragor often spoke slowly, as though each word were carefully chosen. He sometimes stumbled over his words, but he seemed to do his best to speak in a more sophisticted fashion, at least compared to most orcs, as though he was trying to project an air of culture and civility.

Normally, he wasn't quick to leap into a conversation. He liked to act as a wallflower at first, getting a feel for the general tone before injecting himself into a conversation. To his credit, he seemed fairly well educated, but at times it seemed like he was taking wild guesses and just pretending to know what he was saying.

He tried to dress neatly, but his clothing was clearly well worn, sometimes having the odd grass or dirt stain, suggesting he spent a fair amount of time in nature. It was even more apparent when he was seen in the city, or even a larger town, often looking awestruck by the crowds or the scope of the buildings.