Ordana Vale is a weathered half-orc woman with the controlled stillness of someone who has spent decades waiting for gunfire. Her skin is a deep green so dark it appears almost black in shade, with a dry, finely textured grain around her knuckles and temples from years of sun, dust, and alkali wind. One tusk has been cut short and capped with silver, the cap worn dull at its center where she worries it with her tongue when thinking. Her long dark-blue duster moves like a heavy curtain behind her, its silver trim flashing only when she turns. She waits with most of her weight settled onto her right heel, left boot angled toward the nearest exit. Despite her intimidating height and scarred patrol-worn hands, she has an unexpectedly delicate habit of smoothing dust from other people's collars before questioning them.