Bator Kveshi is a massive half-orc whose presence feels less like a warrior entering a room and more like a door being shut against winter. He is broad through the ribs, thick-wristed, and heavily built without looking soft, with the compressed density of a man who has spent a century carrying injured people out of bad places. His skin is olive-gray with a faint iron sheen across the shoulders. Within a minute of meeting him, people notice his breathing: slow, deliberate, and almost silent until he is angry, when every inhalation catches high in his chest like a bellows taking sparks. His lower tusks are worn flat from decades of biting leather straps, and when he laughs, his jaw opens with a small click before the sound comes out. He moves carefully, almost tenderly, despite being strong enough to bend iron bars. The contradiction is that his enormous hands are stained with medicinal dyes and usually occupied with delicate work such as threading needles or repairing a child's toy.