Tordrid is a man of heavy proportions and weathered dignity. He possesses a broad chest and shoulders that suggest a history of military training, though a slight softness has begun to settle around his waist. His skin is tanned and etched with fine lines from years of patrolling the mountain borders. His most striking feature is the contrast between his station and his physical reality: while he wears the finest silks, his hands are thick, scarred, and permanently stained with the soot of a forge. He moves with a deliberate, grounded weight, like a mountain that has decided to walk, and he carries the faint, metallic scent of cold iron even in the most formal settings.