Harrun stands nearly a head taller than most men, his weathered skin taut over corded muscle. Faded ritual tattoos and keloid scars form swirling patterns on his arms and neck, interrupted by strange burn marks on his left cheek. His hair, once midnight black, is wild and unkempt, streaked with silver at the temples and braided in rough, ash-caked cords that reach his waist. Despite his imposing frame and coarse bearing, his hands move with surprising precision, and his dark gray eyes seem haunted yet fiercely focused. His left ear is adorned with a polished bone charm, and his ragged cultist robes are incongruously sewn with fine, stolen silk patches from different kingdoms. He moves with the hunched, watchful posture of a wolf more than a man.