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Average height, average weight I am shorter than most. My matted, dirty blond hair hangs down to my shoulders, my hard grey eyes are pitiless, without a spark of warmth in them. My face is usually twisted into an angry frown of determination and always sprayed with the blood of my foes. I am usually seen slouching around different fields of combat, almost never in town.
I carry a huge, almost transparent axe over my left shoulder, soaked red with blood and clotted with various oozing entrails. A large gouged and ripped shield is strapped to my right forearm. My bloody armor has not been repaired or cleaned for several levels, with gashes where claws or swords have pierced through to show many raw, oozing wounds in my flesh underneath.
My armor is dripping with GORE. A patch showing two crossed swords has been stuck onto the back of my armor, while another patch bearing the number 11 has been stuck to my shoulder. The smell of blood and carnage clings to my body like a mist. A few flies now buzz around my axehead and armor, and something around my body carries the sickly smell of rotting flesh.
I wear a tarnished, bloodsoaked ring on a string around my neck, so that it hangs down the front of my chestplate. I sometimes run my bloody fingers around the curve of the metal.
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