Urzvir Nextar is a wiry man with the look of someone carved by wind rather than born by it. His skin has the warm gray-brown tone of old river clay, and in bright light it shows faint silver flecks across the cheeks and collarbones, as though embedded with ground mica. His black hair is cut unevenly, longer on one side and usually tied back with copper wire, while a single forelock always escapes and falls over his left brow. His eyes are an unusual sea-green, but one iris is ringed with a thin amber halo that gives him a watchful, almost startled expression even when he is calm. He stands just under average height, moves with a careful, side-stepping grace, and keeps his shoulders slightly hunched as if bracing against weather no one else can feel. He wears an immaculate white scholar's shirt under a patched traveler coat, which is contradictory to the soot, ink, and oil permanently embedded in his cuffs and fingers.