Tharivol moves like liquid shadow, his steps silent even on gravel, with an almost balletic grace. His skin is pale but marked with faint, almost imperceptible silver runes that shimmer faintly only under moonlight. His hair is a tangled mass of dark curls falling haphazardly just past his shoulders, often half-tied with strips of dark leather. Contradicting his shadowy nature, his eyes blaze a fierce amber, sharp and penetrating, like twin watchfires. His fingers are slender but calloused, betraying his skill with lockpicks and daggers. When he smiles, it never quite reaches those eyes, leaving an eerie impression of a man always half-hid in thought or calculation.