Tall and poised, he moves with the confident economy of someone who has spent years negotiating in cramped council rooms and crowded docks. His jacket is tailored in a cut common to southern port cities with reinforced elbows patched in leather that has been dyed a slightly different shade, evidence of repeated mending. The left cuff bears a faint salt-streaked discoloration, odd on a guildmaster who rarely sails himself. When he walks he slightly favors his right knee, a subtle hitch that betrays a long-healed injury. Unexpectedly, he wears a pair of decorative fingerless gloves of delicate green silk beneath a practical leather pair, an affectation that makes people doubt whether he is entirely utilitarian.