A jolly grin greets any stranger that approaches this Rohir, along with a booming laugh, and an offer of mead. Six feet, and four inches of stocky Rohirric swordsman, garbed in a green hauberk and cloak, cuts an odd figure in a land such as Bree, but his smile is ever ready to show he means no harm. He keeps his ginger hair long, to about his shoulders, only with a small tie in the back. He keeps a bushy beard as well, clean, though it often smells of mead. His sword is well-worn, though rust-free, and most often sheathed over his back, under his greatcloak. He seems proud of the Rohirric styles on his clothing, having embroidered them all himself. His bright green eyes always seem inquisitive, as he watches Bree-landers, though anyone who tries to harm his half-sister, Tosie, receives a glare that threatens to bore through that unfortunate offender's skull.