Sigg is a lean human man with sharp, assessing eyes, dark hair kept short for practicality, and a scar that cuts through one eyebrow like a punctuation mark. He dresses in clean but unadorned traveler’s clothes under well-oiled leather armor, and even his tools are arranged with obsessive precision. He moves with controlled economy, as if every motion should prove its worth.

Controlled, exacting, and relentlessly self-improving, Sigg treats every day as a chance to refine himself. He is not warm at first meeting, but he is honest about what he values, competence, preparation, and results. He respects discipline in others, even when they stand against him.

Sigg was born human in a dockside quarter where law was mostly theater and competence was the only currency that never devalued. He began as a fence runner and lock opener, but he never saw himself as a common thug. Every job was a test, every narrow escape a lesson, and every rival a measuring stick. He learned quickly that the world respects results more than excuses, and he made himself into someone who could deliver them. Over time, Sigg developed a private code that he follows with the same severity others reserve for holy writ. He does not steal from the helpless, does not lie when the truth serves better, and does not tolerate carelessness, least of all in himself. He believes that if a person has the ability to do better, then they have both the right and the obligation to do so. That conviction has made him invaluable to criminals, guards, merchants, and sometimes all three at once, because Sigg will always choose the most effective path, even when it is not the lawful one.