A man of average height, dressed invariably in finery, but garish and tasteless, and (more often than not) in some state of disrepair.  He bears himself with an outward haughtiness, but his speech veers wildly from coarseness to near-sophistication.  His dark beard is somewhat groomed, and there is a strange keen spark in his eye, but he does not seem overly learned.  He often wears a short blade, ornate and beautiful and seemingly untouched by strife.

He is a little overweight, and his hair is thinning just enough that he may soon need to choose between shaving it closer or attempting a comb-over - appearances would suggest he has already made the wrong choice.  His voice, though hoarse, is surprisingly rich and pleasant, even compelling - though his accent is vague and undistinguishable.  Nonetheless, he has a surprising knack for judging the moment and acting accordingly.  If he cannot be found with a drink in hand, he is likely lighting his pipe, a drink by his side.