Vask is a narrow, long-limbed fey with the unsettling stillness of a heron waiting beside a stream. His movements are abrupt but never hurried, as if invisible hands tug him from place to place. His skin has the matte gray-green texture of river stones, with tiny pale freckles clustered along his knuckles like lichen. His face is handsome at first glance, then increasingly difficult to remember. The unexpected authority of his growing power shows in the reinforced seams of his coat, the faint black thread now circling both wrists, and a new line of silver scars across his palms from cutting hostile bargains. He wears a calm, almost domestic expression while performing cruel magic, yet becomes visibly tender when tending injured animals. His immaculate hands remain always scrubbed clean, despite his occupation among graves, curses, and corpse-fed fungi.