Tall but very thin Roenthelm doesn't cut a particularly impressive or intimidating figure at first glance. Dressed as little more than a peasant and bearing the signs of early stages of starvation he is easy to mistake as another homeless drifter... an assumption not far from the truth in fact.

However, at closer inspection it is clear that he, or at least his heritage, holds some quirks. His features hold the same mix of sharp and blunt found in many half-elves; pointed ears but a wider and broader face and a much heavier set body than a typical elf. Still, it is obvious that there is more than a mix of human and elven blood to him, one needs look no further than his pale-like skin to see that. His hair, long, matted and unkempt, is brown, even in its unclean state, still glitters faintly in the light. His eyes are like deep crimson gemstones with but the faintest trace of a pupil, burning coals in the snow. All mark him clearly as one of the planetouched.

His attire is as dishevelled and grimy as he is. A heavy and worn robe of simple spun wool is his only garment. It is held tight around his waist by an old belt of cracked and faded leather which also supports a large pouch that has seen better days. Finishing off his plain garb are a pair of tatty boots with the soles almost worn through and more than a few holes dotted about. Despite his shabby appearance he holds himself with dignity and is oft smiling or laughing. He carries no weapons but bears numerous scars implying he has seen his share of battles and violence.