Thudding along on a set of armor so heavy some have even taken to calling it Mountain Plate.  Scrawled with runes of an obviously Dwarven design this armor simply screams both cultural heritage and magical enchantment.  A short dark blue robe worn more like a complex tabard covers but does not conceal the bulky armor.
A heavy shield from some exotic wood is not far behind, and a staff with a style reminiscent of a hammer completes the image.  Taller than most dwarves at just over four and a half feet Mekkal must have had all his gear custom fitted, or perhaps made it himself, but it has obviously served him well over years of use.  None of those years are evident from accumulated damage but something about the slightly more rounded corners and the ease with which the plates move around each other describes them as being familiar to each other in addition to their wearer.

Easily past his first century Mekkal carries his age similarly well, other than more literal gray in his beard than the name he has born all his life technically requires he has a sort of learned wisdom that has seeped into his very movement style.  Something about how he surveys not just the land but the people around him describes him at a glance as capable of leading, perhaps even having some experience at it.

When seen traveling, arriving or departing his mount is if anything less subtle.  A huge Gold dragon carries him on its back, in a saddle more akin to a hammock than a chair.  But it stays away from combat, only protecting itself if trapped.