Wrukaog is a large orc, larger than nearly any human. Although not as tall or as heavy as orcs can sometimes come, he is still incredibly broad--obviously possessing great strength. His black hair is kept cut short, though it looks like he trims it himself, with little care, with a dagger. One of his eyes is silver with a slightly deformed iris, hinting at a past injury. His facial expression is usually rather blase about most things, though his mannerisms might imply that he is a good bit more cunning than your common variety of orc.

He wears a Dwarven chain shirt of relatively decent quality which is obviously not cared for to any degree. His clothes consist of a tattering of pieced together bits from various garments or canvas. He carries a mostly-empty backpack with bedroll attached, and several quivers full of arrows that look oft-reused. On his belt, if you could call the thick and knotted cord of leather such a thing, hang several full waterskins and a few pouches that appear to also be mostly empty. Depending on what he's managed to catch recently, a few dead rabbits or birds or similar small game for future consumption may also be hanging there. His feet are haphazardly wrapped in thick leather straps. About the only thing he wears that isn't his armor that looks to have originally been made to fit are some worn leather bracers with some holes that look to have once, long ago, held some studs with armor plates attached, but are now just bare leather.

The most eye-catching thing about him is easily the incredibly ornate great waraxe of obvious Dwarven make that is nearly always in his hand. Sometimes he wears it in a large leather sling on his back, though that is uncommon unless he takes a rare stroll into a civilized place. The haft has been wrapped in strips of leather of assorted thickness, but it is clear that it too is made of metal. To a trained eye, it is clearly not made of normal steel. Dwarven runes lie all along the edge of the blade.

An immensely thick composite longbow is either nonchalantly slung over his shoulder or hanging from the leather sling if his axe is in hand. To those who might recognize such a thing, it would seem to be of Goliath craftsmanship: basic, yet incredibly sturdy. Eight simple and built-to-purpose daggers carved from some kind of tusk or bone hang in a bandoleer across his chest. On one hand he wears a crudely-fashioned spiked metal gauntlet. Most of the time he also has a few javelins tucked between his back and his backpack.