Othresh is a compact, broad-shouldered dwarf whose body is mapped with old wounds: pale ropey cuts over his ribs, a puckered burn down one forearm, and a deep cleft through the left side of his skull where bone and scalp are gone. His left eye is missing; the hollow is covered by a fitted leather patch secured behind his head. His right eye, a dark hazel, stays alert even when his face seems exhausted. Silvery-blond hair, coarse as wire, is braided close on one side and left in a bristling crest on the other. His left leg is missing above the knee. He moves by planting two ashwood forearm crutches with the precise rhythm of a practiced climber, turning in tight spaces with a quick, startling pivot. His hands are scarred and missing several fingers to varying degrees, so he grips his pipe between two knuckles and a leather loop. Unexpectedly for a retired fighter, he keeps a little tin of fragrant violet sweets in his waistcoat and offers them to nervous children. He tends to leave an impression of a shut door with lamplight visible beneath it.

He is candid about pain but evasive about blame, generous with food yet reluctant to accept care. In a quiet room he is patient and dryly funny; when a frightened person is cornered, his humor vanishes and his movements become startlingly direct. He dislikes grand speeches, but will sit through an entire night answering a stranger's questions if they ask without trying to turn him into a legend.

Othresh was raised among stonecutters in a dwarven road-town, where he learned that a steady hand could keep a tunnel from becoming a tomb. He joined the monastery of the Soot-Sworn Bell after a cave-in killed his older brother and left him convinced that strength without restraint was only another kind of disaster. He became a celebrated instructor, known for teaching miners how to fall, breathe, and get back up. During the siege of Khar Dast, his company was ordered to seal a lower gate with civilians still trapped beyond it. Othresh disobeyed, held the passage while families escaped, and was crushed beneath a collapsing stair. He survived, but lost his left leg, several fingers, and part of his skull. His closest friend and fellow monk, Theska, carried him out. The retreating company later blamed the deaths on Othresh's disobedience, while the rescued families were scattered and silenced. He retired rather than let his monastery turn his survival into a recruiting legend. Now he drifts between roadside taverns, usually taking the darkest corner, and tells his story when asked without asking for pity. He is searching for the surviving gate-keeper who gave the order, while quietly sending money to the families who escaped.