Well, there's something you just don't see every day - at least not anywhere where it's safe to go out after dark. Rorak certainly cuts an impressive and intimidating enough figure with a broad-shouldered frame somewhere a little over seven and a half feet from toes to the top of his angular, heavy-jawed and canine head. His features are unremarkable for a Gnoll, but his grooming is some way out of the ordinary, with what in most of his kind would be a muddy red-brown fur brushed and scrubbed to a luxurious dark golden sheen and obviously trimmed (at some expense no doubt) to a short, light-catchingly even length.

 There are teeth enough to be sure - sharp pearl fangs that could no doubt give someone a rather bad day (one of which indeed, gleams silver), but they're well cared for and tucked behind black lips save when he needs to speak, while his eyes are a bright yellow-gold that glitter from beneath a fringe of longer hair that's been left on his head - and that flows back into the traditional neck-ruff of a Gnoll warrior.

 He's armed with the traditional halberd beloved of semi-civilised Gnollish thugs the world over and wearing a shirt of rough-looking but undramatic mail on his torso. There's a savage-looking hybrid of a knife and a hatchet on his belt and a pretty impressively thick steel-limbed bow strapped to the side of his pack to suggest that he's got more than one trick up his sleeve, but on the whole he could easily be mistaken for a random encounter.