Dur-Kertag is a pallid blue River Elf with the soft, waterlogged look of someone who has spent too many years in warehouses beside a slow river. His greasy black hair hangs in ropey strands around his jaw, usually trapped beneath a stained felt cap. His dull violet eyes rarely settle on a speaker's face. Instead, they flick constantly toward doors, ledgers, guards, and anyone wearing an expensive clasp. He is narrow through the shoulders but thick around the waist, with long arms and careful, surprisingly delicate hands. His clothing smells strongly of river mud, lamp oil, and old copper, a scent he insists is evidence of honest labor. His robes are expensive in cut but badly maintained, repeatedly patched with mismatched blue thread. The one item he cares for obsessively is a pale green silk sash embroidered with tiny silver fish, which he folds and refolds whenever negotiations become dangerous. He moves with a slow, floating gait, yet can lunge across a room with startling speed when a coin is threatened. His most contradictory feature is his immaculate handwriting, formed in elegant imperial script by fingers usually blackened with grit.