A young woman of average height with dirty blonde hair.  Her hair is long and tied back in one loose tie near the end.  She is wearing a garment that's cleverly stitched together from an old Carhartt jacket, most of a chestguard like a motorcyclist would wear on a race track, and a shoulder pauldron that looks like it was made out of something else in some amateur blacksmith's home forge.  Her jeans have been patched to such an extent the gestalt garment she wears now is probably stronger than the original.  But she needs new boots.

She wears a roughly hewn hooded overgarment which is somewhat bulky over an old military backpack.  If you make eye contact with her bright gray eyes you might notice there's a few small scars here and there, and her nose is just a little bit misshapen, like it's been broken many times.

Oh, and she's known to lug a sword about.  Sometimes she talks to the sword and calls it Connor.