Tharun is a massive, soft-featured goliath whose bald skull is wrapped in ornate, curling tattoos—thin interlocking bands that shine faintly when he laughs or strains. His face is unexpectedly round for his height, cheeks carrying a perpetual hint of warmth; small folds gather at his jaw rather than the chiselled planes typical of his kin. He moves with surprising slowness and deliberation, as if each step tastes the world first, then decides to take it. When he draws a weapon his bulk fills a doorway like a riverbank, but when he rests against a post he resembles a sun-warmed boulder that people sit on. One contradictory detail: his skin is soft and golden to the touch, almost like polished honey, which is at odds with the deep battle scars scored across his forearms. Under certain light his tattoos appear almost metallic, and his gray eyes have a steady, comfortable gleam instead of the usual glare of the mountain folk.