Broad-shouldered half-orc with skin like greened riverstone pocked by old scars. He walks with a controlled, sinuous grace that belies his size, moving as if the space around him is weighted with invisible ropes he can tug. His left forearm is wrapped in faded prayer cloth stitched with tiny iron washers from years of training, and a small brass teacup hangs from his belt, dented and polished in one place from habitual tapping. Unexpectedly, his movements carry a delicate precision: when he reaches for a cup or a coin he treats it like a sacred relic, careful and reverent.