Ellis Covari is a compact halfling with the tidy restlessness of a page being turned too fast. His fingers are permanently stained with blue-black ink that shimmers faintly at the edges, as if every blot remembers the stars. He wears a scholar's coat cut from charcoal wool and lined with hidden parchment pockets, but the cuffs are splattered with bright copper ink in careless bursts, giving him the look of a meticulous archivist who has recently lost a battle with a fountain of color. His quill is tucked behind one ear like a weapon, and he moves with small, precise steps that suddenly become frantic when inspiration strikes. The contradiction that makes people remember him is that despite his bookish severity, he carries a battered patchwork satchel decorated with embroidered flowers and a childlike stitched fox on the flap.