He was a large muscular specimen of a Northman. He wore his blonde hair long and braided down his back.  A long mustachio above his lip, clean shaven chin. His eyes whereas blue as the deepest freshwater lake, and they had a fire in them of the warrior spirit.

A mail shirt with round shield slung over his back, with a sword in scabbard at his side. A fur cloak of wolf pelts tied with a silver draped down his left shoulder. By the man’s bearing and the armor, rich pelts for a cloak and silver pin mark the warrior as once with some wealth. A helmet carried under left arm was decorated with a silver crow, the sign of Odin, upon the top.

The Man’s name would not have been hard to heard, as the newcomer seemed very outgoing, making jests, and boasts of his coming great deeds. He drank with anyone that had a mind, with him. And he wrestled any and all comers on the last leg of the trip, before they made dock at the town. He went by the name of  Sigfrodr, son of  VÍÐARR Skull Splitter.