A roughly kept if hale and muscular man, Ser Valen Liondane is never one to assume a weak or submissive posture.  He doesn't have particularly fine features or the face that the maids fawn and fret over, but his straight, angular jaw, ever present scruff of facial fur and unkempt hair complement the small scars criss crossing his body here and there, the callouses on his hands, and an easy, unconscious swagger that only comes with the willingness to say to hell with it all reek of testosterone.

His musculature may not be visually stunning, but it's solid; he is a strong and fit man who got that way doing lots of hard work and vigorous motion.  He often smells like sweat and horse and musk.  He has red-brown eyes and a rich baritone.  Despite not being terribly well-kept he's at least usually relatively clean for someone who is outside so much, and it seems more of an affectation than self-negligence.

Contrasting with this, he seems curiously refined in many small ways; dressing well in clothes that are very well made even if they are simple in style, ordering the perfect ale to serve with a meal even if the fare is humble, using honorifics like "m'lady" without looking like a poser, using the correct utensil, being able to identify many songs, and other small clues all suggest he comes from a background of wealth and refinement.