Azorath cuts a peculiar silhouette beneath the canopy: lithe and angular, with deep crimson skin marred by faint silver striations, like lightning scars, running up his arms and neck. His horns are a twisting asymmetrical pair—a spiraled ram’s horn on the left, and a smooth, gently curving antelope’s arc on the right. His wild, bramble-black hair is woven with feathers and tiny live flowers, some subtly glowing violet in moonlight. He moves with a limping but deliberate grace, favoring his right leg, and exudes an air of restless anticipation, yet his tail often sways with a languid calm. Contradictorily, his hands are always immaculate, almost surgical in their cleanliness amid his earthy profession.