Short and thickset, Berrik’s skin has the rough, pebbled texture of worn granite. Sparse tufts of ash-grey hair bristle from his jawline and beneath his temples, yet his crown is completely bald, revealing a web of faded tattoos. He wears a heavy woolen vestment streaked with soot, patched at the elbows, beneath a battered mail shirt. One hand is always gloved (even when sleeping), the other bears calluses and inky stains. He moves with abrupt, deliberate steps, limping on his right leg—though his bright, alert eyes dart constantly. For all his earthiness, he wears a single, delicate silver earring shaped like a crescent moon.