Azal'zill is a gaunt tiefling with wax-colored skin and faint dark veining at his temples. He possesses small, curved horns that barely push through his lank, ash-grey hair. His eyes are pale and washed-out, with pupils that do not respond normally to light. He wears a long, multi-pocketed fortune teller's coat and carries himself with an unnerving, frozen stillness.

He is quiet, detached, and profoundly still. He rarely reacts with emotion, speaking in a flat monotone as if he is reciting facts about a world he no longer truly occupies. He finds comfort in silence and the slow decay of things.

Azal'zill was raised in the shadows of a coastal slum, serving as a lookout and 'ghost' for a syndicate of thieves. Unlike the other orphans, he never needed to run. He simply existed in the blind spots of the city guards, his presence naturally muffled by an inherent coldness that seeped from his skin. The syndicate valued him not for his loyalty, which was non-existent, but for his ability to see the invisible threads of misfortune that followed people through the streets. He didn't just steal purses, he stole moments of luck. As his sorcerous power grew, the air around him became heavier and the temperature dropped in his presence. Realizing that the living world held little interest for him, he left the syndicate behind to follow the whispers of the entropic energy that fuels his magic. He now wanders as a fortune teller of the macabre, predicting ends that have already begun.