Hall is an Aasimar of unusually fragile build. His skin has a faint, pearlescent sheen that appears like bruised silk, and his eyes are a startling, solid gold. He wears ill-fitting scale mail that clanks awkwardly with every step. Despite his celestial heritage, he looks perpetually exhausted, with messy brown hair and a slouch that suggests he is trying to take up as little space as possible.

Hall is profoundly humble, often to the point of self-deprecation. He possesses a quiet, stubborn resilience, believing that showing up is more important than being the best. He is soft-spoken and prone to apologizing for things that are not his fault, but his kindness is genuine and unshakable.

Born under the sign of a falling star, Hall was expected to be a champion. However, his celestial spark seemed to have drained his physical vitality rather than enhancing it. He was raised in a military family where weakness was a sin, and he eventually joined the frontier scouts to prove he could contribute. During a brutal winter campaign, his entire unit was lost to a plague and subsequent goblin raids. Hall only survived because his celestial blood resisted the sickness, allowing him to limp through the wilderness for weeks. He didn't survive through skill or strength, but through sheer, painful endurance. He became a ranger out of necessity, learning to track and forage just to see the next sunrise. He now wanders the world, feeling like a cosmic mistake but determined to use his borrowed time to protect others who are just as vulnerable as he is. He carries his old military insignia not as a badge of pride, but as a reminder of the men who were stronger than him but didn't have his luck.