Arvid stands like a carved pillar brought to life, tall and heavily muscled, with the dense strength of a man raised on axes, oars, and winter storms. His dark blond hair falls in several long braids tied with strips of blue leather and small bone rings, while his thick Viking beard is braided at the jaw and threaded with a single silver clasp shaped like a wolf tooth. His skin is weather-worn and ruddy from cold sea air, marked by pale scars across forearms, ribs, and one split brow. He wears practical northern leathers beneath fur-lined mail, all seawolf gray and ice blue, yet his round shield is painted with bright spring flowers in a deliberate act of mourning for the sister he lost. He moves with a controlled, predatory grace, each step economical and balanced, but there is a strange gentleness in the way he adjusts his cloak and touches his beard, as if he were a scholar trying very hard to look like a raider.