Anseric Vale is a tall human with a waxy, overpolished complexion that looks more embalmed than alive. His skin is pale ivory with faint gray undertones, as if moonlight has been kneaded into flesh. He wears immaculate linen vestments layered under black velvet and tarnished silver chains, yet his hands are always stained with grave soil and old candle wax. His hair is iron-white despite his middle age, brushed back with severe care, and a thin halo of surgical scars circles the base of his skull where ritual needles once entered. He moves with unnerving gentleness, like a priest carrying a newborn, but his shadow sometimes lags behind him by a heartbeat. The most unsettling detail is his smile, warm and fatherly, while his eyes remain cold, glassy, and sleepless.