Layers of uneven light brown hair rest on his shoulders while silver streaks can be seen all throughout his beard. His face is weathered with many years of grief and despair, but his hazel eyes hold a sort of renewal in them. A chance to be better than the day before. His hands are calloused and continually bruised from working as a stonemason. He's more chunky than anything else, lots of old muscles intermixed with fat. 

In a public space, he's known as a loudmouth, never knowing when to shut up. He can be a tad bit to dramatic at times.