A typically stout and broad Dwarven man with a lengthy beard, though atypically he is far older than your average Dwarf. With a heavily wrinkled and weathered face that seemed carved with the quiet weight of ancient knowledge. Thick grey hair spills down from his chin and falling proudly to his chest, braided with bits of iron and obsidian, a living testament to his and his clan's resilience. He wears a battle-worn suit of armour, clearly having seen it's fair share of battle though meticulously undented and rebuffed as clean as can be, each piece of metal noticably carved or engraved with various Dwarven Runes. Any whom can read Dwarven would know these as a more archaic version of script, hundreds of years old but still mostly understandable, further showing off the Dwarf's long life.
Unlike most Wizards, Brorn does not shy away from the front lines. His mage is carved, not cast, channeled through hammer, chisel and sheer pill. Every sigil he inscribes into armour or stone being older than some empires. Calm but unyielding he speaks with the weight of stone and patience of mountains, occasionally letting silence do as much work as words. To younger Dwarves he is but a relic, but to those who understand power he is akin to a pillar. When the earth trembles and runes blaze, few stand taller than this stout Dwarf!