Arthur is a weathered man with deeply lined skin, a thick silver beard, and eyes that seem perpetually tired. He wears a faded military surcoat over simple tunics. His hands tremble slightly until he grips the haft of his greataxe, at which point his knuckles turn white with intensity.

Arthur is gruff, cynical, and deeply tired. He has seen enough war to last three lifetimes and treats every new adventure like a chore that must be completed. He is fiercely protective of his companions, often referring to them as wet-eared recruits despite their actual skill.

Arthur Halloway spent thirty years in the infantry, serving as the wall that younger men stood behind. He was never promoted, never decorated, and never retired by choice. When his regiment was disbanded following a catastrophic defeat, he was sent home with a small pension and a collection of scars that ache when the wind turns cold. His body is failing him, but his mind refuses to accept the quiet life of a farmer. He finds that he can only focus when his blood is pumping and his voice is raised in a roar. The rage he carries is not born of a wild heart, but of a man who feels the world has moved on without him. He wanders the roads now, looking for one last battle that feels worthy of the friends he left behind on the front lines. He knows he is not as strong as he once was, but his experience and pure, stubborn refusal to die make him a formidable, if fragile, combatant.