With a calm look set upon his face, eyes, as blue as the sky itself, relaxed and worriless, lips almost always arched in a smile, and the markings of a blade's presence thinly spread across his right cheek-bone, he passes along.

Standing tall, with a loose, but straight posture, broadened shoulders and a heavy chest. His skin, somewhat darker than most Rhovanians', seems rugged and tired. The complexity of a venerable war veteran, set upon a man of twenty-two.

His hair, golden, shy curls whirling downwards, conveys on a knot behind his head, held only by a small, unnoticable thin strap of leather.