Duatheryn is tall even among the Eldar, standing lean and broad-shouldered from centuries spent ranging through wilderness of Mirkwood, rather than courtly halls. His dark hair falls to the middle of his back, often tied when travelling and loose when at home. His grey eyes are sharp and observant, more accustomed to scanning distant treelines and forgotten ruins than the faces of crowds.

Years spent wandering have weathered him in subtle ways uncommon among Elves. Though ageless in form, there is a quiet gravity in his bearing; a sense that he has spent many centuries listening to stories the world itself has forgotten.

He prefers practical attire of deep greens, greys, and browns suited to woodland travel, and is rarely seen without bow and blade, a journal, map case, or satchel of notes.