The nomad had a face of drudgery. The rust of long roads was carved into gaunt cheeks beneath pale scars and blemishes, granting his skin a harsh quality. His eyes weren't much better - Aberrant - somewhere between feline and reptilian, with sanguine irises that shimmered something emberlike.

This was a man whose monstrosity didn't precisely sit well with him. He preferred to keep others in the periphery of his vision to avoid eye contact, and was hard pressed to reveal the second set of sharp, carnassial teeth that protruded from behind the first. Boorish overall, his frame was reminiscent of a beast of burden, and the way his nostrils flared when he sniffed the air in a bloodhound's fashion only deepened that impression.

His saving grace must have been the lack of pretensions in his conduct, and his subdued speech which was a kind of low, husky tone that said what he meant and meant what he said. The hint of a provincial drawl could be detected in his otherwise cosmopolitan accent.

In twin scabbards which had been scarred by mismatched claw marks, two asymmetrical swords were sheathed upon his back. One was tarnished and battered while the other maintained the polish of obsessive care. He was seldom seen without them, as they were a trademark of his profession, and a sign to those who had need of them.