Mzekezeke is a long-limbed moon elf with the careful posture of someone who learned to sleep in armor. He favors his left heel when he walks, not from injury but from an old habit of testing floorboards before trusting them. Within a minute of meeting him, most people notice that his eyes rarely settle on faces. They travel instead to hands, exits, ceiling beams, and the reflections in polished bottles. His skin has the muted bronze tone of old worked copper, textured at the knuckles from years of rope, sword grips, and barrel hoops. His hair is silver at the temples but black through the braid down his back. He moves with startling quiet for a man who spends his days carrying kegs. The contradictory impression is that he looks delicate enough to be a court musician, yet he can lift a full ale cask alone and set it down without spilling the foam.