A cascade of purest white, immaculate and soft as down feathers, his hair frames either side to his face and stretches further along his back.

Composed of narrow, elven-like features, as if formed of dark obsidian as distinctive to drow; his face seems to betray as much emotion as the dark stone would imply.

Two spheres of ruby red, his eyes glint of the frequent crimson found matching to obsidian hues of skin. At some angles and forms of illumination, they show a coursing hint of orange flickler of flames overlapping the sanguine.

Slender and sinewy, his statue is of someone who has seen exercise in brawn and agility alike, reaching to roughly five feet and a half in height.

Caressing the hearer's ears with a purr, words seem to roll from his lips with careful conscientiousness, yet fully capable of cracking down in harsher tones.