The years have not been kind to the once immense warrior. The eyes that once crackled with magic and either mirth or rage depending on the situation have dampened, turning into dull embers Holding little but melancholy sadness.
His lustrous silver mane, the Wild Beard and hair that once proudly and shiningly proclaimed his Agathion ancestry, is now a matte grey, unkempt and dulled from years of not being treated.
His reddened nose and sagging cheeks speak further of how the once proud warrior has fallen.

While He retains much of his muscle, still being a towering wall to most people, and even though his rugged good looks cannot quite be hidden away by his self abuse, to those who knew him in hos prime, he is a shadow of his former self. A once chiseled, energetic and wildly passionate champion of the battlefield, turned into a tired, quiet and dour drunk. Why a man who’s clearly given up would go into battle against the worst the world has to offer once again is anyone’s guess.