Father Russo is in his seventies, white haired, bearded and weather beaten. Here and there he still had a streak of darker hair, though it had turned from black to iron-grey.  He wears a white Cassock that stretches a bit at the gut and his face has florid coloring in his cheeks and nose.  Russo isn't especially tall, but has had a knack of filling every room he entered with his presence. His voice is sonorous, rich and booming with a trace of of both British and Spanish accents.