Neris Quill is a narrow-shouldered harbor officer with the weathered look of someone who has slept more often beneath awnings than under roofs. Her skin is brown-gold and roughened by salt wind, with pale scars crossing her knuckles and a crescent burn beneath her left ear. She moves with economical precision, placing each foot as though the ground might give way beneath it. Her expression is usually tired, but her eyes remain sharply attentive, flicking toward dripping gutters, loose shutters, and suspiciously clean boots. Her battered uniform smells of brine, lamp smoke, and peppermint oil. The unexpected contradiction is her hands: large, scarred, and capable of restraining a dock brawler, yet she uses them to perform delicate paper folding whenever she is thinking.