The scruffy Nzraathi hovered around six feet yet appeared a little shorter due to his lazy posture which gave him the air of a starving wolf. In fact, he did often look hungry, as though missing something that was just out of reach. All unruly hair and feral eyes, Nerod was hard pressed to release the vague glint of mysticism in his expression that made him seem like the type of man who observed and knew more than he let on, even in spite of the perpetual tinge of irritation that was present in his askant gaze. A gaze of fiery gold; barely natural, and simmering with wrath.

  He carried himself with a subtle sense of purpose, and whatever it was, it most certainly had something to do with the shoulder rig that boasted a total of four pistols, each loaded and half cocked, as well as the ugly blade that dangled from his side; always present in the penumbra of his raincoat as a silent statement. Studded gloves and a hidden knife here and there added to the impression of dirty, vicious violence that he was capable of.

  From his neck hung a few trinkets of occult significance; more prominently an ancient coin that must have been plucked from the ruins of a bygone age, as well as a raven feather that was tied to a string like a tassel. There was also a golden signet ring that he wore as if it was a wedding band, yet the fact it faced inward rather than out made it difficult to see the symbol it displayed.