Sahru is a broad-shouldered human with the compact, powerful build of someone shaped by running rather than lifting. His hands are the first thing most people notice: thick-palmed, heavily callused, and crosshatched with pale pressure marks from a lifetime of spear drills and shield work. He moves with an unsettling softness for a man his size, placing each foot as carefully as if the ground were thin ice. His expression is calm, almost tender, even when he is measuring how quickly someone could die. An unexpected contradiction follows him everywhere: he looks built for conquest, yet he handles fragile objects with the delicate care of a jeweler. He can silence a room by raising two fingers, but laughs easily at badly told jokes.