Gharvak moves with a surprising grace for someone of his broad half-orc heritage—each step measured, barely stirring the fallen leaves beneath. His skin is a mottled canvas of rough, battle-worn ash-gray with patches of moss-colored lichen-like scars crawling across his right shoulder; these scars seem ancient, almost symbiotic. His eyes are a piercing pale jade, glowing faintly in shadows, framed by a brow heavy but not unrefined. Long, tangled black hair, streaked with silver and braided tightly at the temples, cascades down to his scapula. He wears layered leather armor soft and supple, worn down to a matte finish, over a faded green shirt that almost blends with the forest background. Strangely, on his left wrist is a delicate silver bracelet adorned with tiny bells that emit a subtle, ghostly chime — a contradiction, given his stealthy nature. His jaw is square, and his tusks are trimmed short but polished to a dull shine, hinting at disciplined pride rather than savagery. When standing still, he exudes watchfulness; in motion, a predator’s calm and patience.