Brazmar is a stout, immovable figure with skin resembling sun-bleached granite, mapped with fine cracks like aged stone. His hands are massive and heavily calloused from a life spent both mining deep veins and tending delicate mountain flora. His defining feature is a massive, architecturally complex beard braided with thick copper wires that hum faintly in high winds, interspersed with living sprigs of alpine heather that bloom with purple flowers even in deep winter. He moves with a rooted deliberateness that suggests he is an extension of the mountain itself. His eyes are a piercing, vibrant moss green that cuts through the soot and grime on his face. Unexpectedly, he carries the refreshing scent of crushed mint and damp earth, a sharp contrast to his rugged, grimy appearance.