Rukvarr stands squat and barrel-chested, his bald, brick-red scalp scarred but polished to a near-mirror shine—he buffs it obsessively, even during conversation. His armor is a patchwork of dented, silvered plate, much of it too small, binding his limbs awkwardly; stubborn tufts of matted brown fur and slick rust stains peek from the joints. A magnificent, braided beard hangs heavy and red-gold from his chin, falling almost to his belt, meticulously oiled and adorned with stolen stone beads carved with dwarven runes. His nose is pronounced and sharply hooked, and rows of uneven razored teeth flash when he speaks. Despite his bulk and heavy armor, he moves with a quick, almost fidgety energy, betraying a nervy alertness.