A mountain of a man with a polished, bald head that reflects the tavern hearth fire like a bronze orb. He keeps a salt-and-pepper beard trimmed to a razor-thin, short line along his jaw. Despite his massive, calloused hands, he handles delicate glassware with the grace of a jeweler. He smells of fermented hops, old pine, and surprisingly expensive lavender soap. He moves with a heavy, deliberate thud that makes the floorboards groan, yet he can stand perfectly still for hours behind his bar like a statue.