Torn but clean linen shirt under dented chain mail that is polished along the chest and left shoulder while the right side is scuffed and matte. He moves with the steady economy of a laborer honed by training. When he walks he keeps his left hand almost brushing a seam inside his gauntlet as if checking a worry he does not voice. An odd, small paper bird is folded and pinned beneath his breastplate so it flutters faintly with his breath. Up close his jaw shows old paring scars and a hairline burn across his throat where a branding iron nicked him years ago.