Sazhash is a lean, long-limbed man whose movements are too quiet for his size. He seems to arrive in a room a heartbeat before the sound of his footsteps does. His skin has a matte, smoke-brown texture, but thin silver lines run beneath it like cracks in cooled glass, brightening whenever he casts a spell. His face is narrow and weathered, with a blunt nose, high cheekbones, and a small crescent scar through his lower lip. He keeps his head slightly tilted, as if listening to a distant conversation. The unexpected contradiction is his hands: broad, callused, and permanently stained with blue-black ink, they look like a scribe's hands rather than an assassin's. He leaves people with the impression of a kindly undertaker who has just remembered something they hoped he had forgotten.