Edrik Griffin, or sometimes "Griff" to his friends, is not a man overly concerned with his physical appearance. Which is not to say that he is slovenly or unkempt, just that matters of fashion do not often cross his more pragmatic mind. He would happily wear a battered but functional attire suited for combat in the presence of some Queen of a planetoid without batting an eye if he expected that he would have to face danger soon. Comfort and practicality over aesthetics any day, to his mind. That said, Edrik does seem to favor tan colors reminiscent of his years in the Astrylon fleet. Another souvenir from his time with those fighting men is the series of Wildspace inspired tattoos that swarm his arms and back.

The body beneath his clothing is much the same, more concerned with practical matters than vain ones. Dark brown hair is kept short enough so that it requires little in the way of maintenance, though it is beyond military regulation at this point. His face is kept bereft of facial hair, leaving what some would say is a handsome, lantern-jawed face visible to the world. Despite his sheer presence on the field of battle, Edrik is not beyond most men in either height or weight. Standing just shy of six feet, and just below two hundred pounds, he look more like a college running back than the almost twenty year veteran that he is. All wiry muscle instead of massive iron thews.

But there is a strength and a confidence in that frame that allows him to engage men twice his size with nigh equal footing. That same confidence is echoed in the man's intense hazel eyes. They shine with a quiet surety born of experience beyond his years.