Tall and willowy in the way of old elven lineages. When he moves he seems to float for a fraction of a breath, as if gravity respects his thought. He wears his hair braided at the nape with a silver filigree comb that doubles as a stylus. The edges of his sleeves are ink-stained and the inside of his cloak is stitched with maps of ley currents. Unexpectedly, his left palm is callused and marked with faint scorch scars as though he once practiced forbidden touch magic. He favors pens and scroll cases over robes befitting a court mage and often has a pocket of glass vials clinking like distant rain.