Brazmar is a stout figure with skin the color of sun-bleached granite and hands calloused from both mining and gardening. His massive beard is a marvel of engineering, braided with copper wires, small silver trowels, and living sprigs of alpine heather that never seem to wilt. He moves with a heavy, rooted deliberate-ness, as if he is part of the floor itself. His eyes are a startling, luminous moss green that contrasts sharply with his rugged, soot-smudged features. Surprisingly, despite his rough exterior, he smells faintly of crushed mint and damp earth rather than the expected dwarven ale and smoke.