Rugged in appearance, and harsh in tone. Fyrd wanders about with a stoic step, his weathered face shows marks of his aging process, being a middle-aged Man. His eyes, colored in a dark brown tint are usually staring down at the ground when wandering about. Often mistaken for a haphazard drunk, his beard is scruffy at best, same goes for his hair. The strands of blond hair still linger about on a grey haircut which is kept nicely in a small ponytail.

His armor seems rather damaged, having some holes in the leather coating, revealling the chainmail beneath it. His belt is fit with all forms of trinkets. A scabbard, resting on his left hip, made of reinforced leather to hold the blade within. A few pouches are lingering on the belt along with some rope, resting against his right hip.

Hanging on a hook, when in towns, on his belt is his helmet. Adorned with fine features of craftsmanship. A nasalguard helmet in its finest form. Strands of horse hair rest down the back of the helmet.

Overall, his looks are dreadful, and he cares little for it, it seems. Scarred and scruffy, all the while roaming the roads travelled by few.