Compact and solid with the slow, purposeful gait of a miner who trusts the ground beneath him. His braided beard has been threaded with small iron beads forged from a fallen guild standard. The skin of his hands is callused and faintly stained with soot despite his clerical robes. He wears a battered smith's apron over chain mail when traveling and keeps a folded prayer-cloth tucked into his belt. Movement is efficient and unhurried but his eyes track details like a hawk. Unexpectedly, he hums cheerful drinking songs while reciting liturgy, which gives him an odd, comforting dissonance.