Jorvan is a slender, almost willowy young man who moves with a calm, deliberate grace more reminiscent of a scholar than a trader. His presence is unusually serene for a busy market stall owner, with close-cut dark brown hair that looks perpetually tousled by some unseen breeze, and striking pale green eyes flecked with gold that seem to study everything—and everything, in turn, studies him. His hands are long and expressive, stained faintly with ink and the residue of rare spices. Contradicting his refined bearing is the faint scar of a burn traced like a delicate map on the inside of his left forearm—an intimate reminder of a past that belies his merchant persona.