Azelth appears as a tall, narrow figure wrapped in layers of translucent black veils that drift even in still air, as if underwater. Their skin has the look of smoked pearl with faint cracks of silver running beneath it like veined quartz. Their movements are unnervingly precise, but their hands tremble with a tiny, constant delay, as if each gesture is being approved by a distant authority. One shoulder bears a saintly mantle embroidered in gold thread, while the other is bare and scarred by old fire, a contradictory mix of reverence and ruin. Their shadow often arrives a moment before they do.