Yalvorn stands lanky and erect, his sinewy frame draped in ochre robes that shimmer with hints of midnight blue when caught by lantern light. His skin is a gray-green, etched with swirling, faded tattoos mimicking celestial constellations. His fingers are long and slender, moving gracefully except for a persistent, nervous twitch in the left pinky. Pale golden eyes, almost luminous, peer from a gaunt, angular face. A single ivory bead dangles from his nose, at odds with his otherwise ascetic look. His presence is both tranquil and disquieting—he enters rooms with cloud-like softness yet leaves a sharp psychic aftereffect.