Walrus is a broad-shouldered tiefling with weather-darkened red skin, swept-back black horns, pale blue eyes, and a long tail marked by old frostbite scars. His thick black hair is bound with strips of blue cloth, and he wears battered scale mail beneath a heavy white-and-gray fur cloak. His bow is wrapped in treated leather, with arrow fletching made from winter hawk feathers.

Walrus is blunt, observant, and fiercely self-reliant. He rarely offers comfort in words, preferring to repair a strap, share the warmest part of a camp, or place himself between danger and an ally. He has a dry sense of humor and an instinctive respect for anyone who can endure hardship without making it someone else's burden.

Walrus was born beneath the red auroras of a remote northern settlement, where his infernal heritage made him an object of suspicion long before he could understand why. His mother, a trapper, taught him to read weather, animal tracks, and the subtle language of cracking ice. His father was a traveling peddler who vanished during a winter crossing, leaving Walrus with a battered bow, a coil of leather, and a lasting distrust of roads that seem too safe. Years in the frozen wilds made Walrus an outlander in truth as well as in name. He learned to guide hunting parties through blizzards, lead stranded travelers to shelter, and turn snowdrifts and frozen streams into defensive ground. During one particularly brutal season, he discovered that his arrows could leave behind a pale blue frost mark that slowed pursuers and helped frightened companions keep formation. He now travels as a Frostpath Warden, not because he loves civilization, but because he believes every traveler deserves the chance to reach the next fire. He is willing to help almost anyone, provided they do not try to command him.