Durren Kaelthas is a darkly handsome heavyset man whose broad frame carries an unexpected grace. His skin is weathered from years under the salty sun but retains a natural olive warmth beneath a smattering of faint scars and sea salt. His face is framed by thick, tightly curled black hair that falls just past his shoulders in slightly damp, oily waves, giving the impression he’s just stepped off a ship, though he wears it with pride rather than neglect. His dense beard is meticulously groomed, almost contradicting the rough-and-tumble look of a pirate, and his dark violet eyes gleam with rapid calculation and simmering suspicion. His movements carry the deliberate rhythm of a man used to heavy labor but also the practiced finesse of a skilled gambler—his fingers nimble and sure despite their size. An odd detail is his habit of constantly fidgeting with a small carved ivory chip from an old ship’s figurehead, twisting it anxiously between his fingers even during intense conversations, betraying a rare flicker of vulnerability beneath his steely exterior.