Asto has the rangy, slightly unfinished look of a man who grew up climbing roofs rather than entering through doors. His half-elven face is narrow and expressive, with a blunt nose, a soft cleft in his chin, and a small scar crossing the left corner of his mouth as if someone once tried to erase a smile. His movements are quick but asymmetrical: one shoulder always arrives a moment before the rest of him. He has the unsettling habit of standing perfectly still while his fingers tap complicated rhythms against his thigh. At first glance he appears disreputable and underfed, but his hands are carefully manicured and his boots are polished enough to reflect candlelight. He leaves behind an impression of rain, brass, and a joke that almost became a confession.