Tall and compact, he moves with the economy of a dancer who learned to fight on slick stone. His skin is sun-worn and freckled across the bridge of his nose. A pale, silver-gray arcane tattoo coils from behind his left ear down his neck and disappears beneath his shirt, its lines catching light like faint, shifting filigree. He wears a well-oiled leather baldric over chain mail and a battered gray cloak whose inner lining is stitched with a faded family crest. Unexpectedly, he keeps a small carved wooden bird fastened to his belt, its beak worn to smoothness from his thumb.