Valerius stands with a lithe, athletic grace. His skin is the color of fresh cream, contrasting sharply with his vibrant golden eyes and hair that looks like spun sunlight. He has small, elegant horns that curve back along his scalp and a thin tail that twitches when he is amused.

Valerius masks his cynicism with a charming, devil-may-care grin. He is quick with a joke and even quicker with a retort, rarely taking anything seriously until the knives come out.

Valerius was born into the soot-stained streets of a metropolis, marked by his Abyssal blood but blessed with a visage that made him a favorite in high-end criminal circles. He spent his youth as an enforcer for the Gilded Hand, using his awakening psionic talents to eliminate targets without leaving a trace. He believed he was just another predator in the urban jungle until he was ordered to burn out a tenement housing families who were late on their rent. The golden light of the flames looked too much like the daggers in his hands, and something inside him finally broke. Valerius turned his blades on his own crew, ensuring the families escaped before disappearing into the night. Since then, he has lived as a freelance rogue, taking jobs that allow him to use his criminal expertise against the very syndicates that taught him the trade. He still maintains his roguish attitude, but his daggers are now aimed at the deserving. He treats life as a high-stakes game where the rules are suggestions and the only true sin is being boring.