Rellin Tideward is a wiry tidal scout with the weathered look of someone who has spent half his life under bridges and under water. His skin is sun-browned at the hands and throat, pale elsewhere from years in the tunnels, and it carries a faint salt sheen as if the sea never fully left him. His dark blue hair is cut unevenly to his jaw, but one long braid is threaded with tiny copper tags that chime softly when he turns his head. One eye is sea-green and sharp, the other is clouded with a milk-white scar from a cave-in, yet he still peers with the blind eye as though it sees more than the other. He moves with a careful, rolling gait, light on his feet but never hurried, like a man always listening for water behind the walls. The strangest thing about him is a spotless ivory waistcoat worn over mud-stained wader clothes, as if he insists on one clean, civilized piece to argue with the rest of his life.