Vara Redhand is a broad-shouldered human woman with the compact, weathered strength of someone who has spent decades lifting iron rather than posing with it. Her hands are heavily callused, darkened permanently around the knuckles by forge soot, and her left palm bears a branching scar that resembles a red river delta. She moves with a slight forward lean, as if perpetually braced against a furnace wind, yet she is unexpectedly quiet on her feet. Her face is square and ruddy, with a broken nose, a deep crease between her brows, and a smile that arrives suddenly and vanishes even faster. She leaves an impression of heat, smoke, and practical competence, but when she laughs, it is soft and almost girlish, completely at odds with her intimidating silhouette.