Broad-shouldered and soot-stained, he moves with the slow, deliberate economy of someone used to swinging tools all day. His left forearm is wrapped in a faded cloth tattoo depicting a small anvil and a sprig of rosemary intertwined. His hands are pocked with tiny healed burns and a faint silver streak runs through the hair above his right temple. He favors simple, practical stances and often folds his arms across his chest in thought. Unexpectedly, when amused he polishes a small brass whistle he keeps on a leather thong around his neck, a delicate habit at odds with his coarse exterior.