Jarumba Slade is enormous even by genasi standards, a broad-shouldered harbor giant with the heavy, grounded stance of a man who has spent decades bracing against waves. His skin looks like deep blue-green glass beneath a thin film of rain, constantly beaded with droplets that gather at his elbows and drip from his knuckles. His hair floats around his head in slow, underwater curls, yet his thick beard hangs completely dry and stiff as rope. He moves with surprising gentleness until violence begins, when every step becomes a rolling surge and his laughter arrives before his blows. The first impression he leaves is not menace but warmth, like standing beside a sunlit bathhouse during a storm.