Towering and composed, Tharuun moves with a surprising, deliberate grace for someone built like an ocean oak. His hide is pocked with faint circular scars where rope once burned him; each is a map-spot for a freight contract or storm he survived. He favors a custom half-plate beneath a salt-leather captain's coat embroidered with the Iron Claw's jagged claw motif; the coat's tails are braided with the frayed ropes of a ship saved. His trunk is decorated with a ring of brass beads (each bead is the token of an ally or debt). When he walks he plants his feet like anchors; when he speaks he inclines his head slowly, measuring both words and the sea. Unexpectedly, he keeps a small, battered wooden toy ship tied to his belt by a child's ribbon — childish and tender against his armored bulk.