This man has a somewhat pale skin and sandlewood scented, nicely cut dark hair that falls to his shoulders. He bears the look of one who has seen more of life than one would expect from someone his age. Looking into his dark brown eyes it is hard to know his mood.
A little bulkier than he once was, he is still quite thin and it would seem a stronger gust of wind could knock him down.
Even after many turns spent hunting in the dark, harsh environment of N'Rolav, his equipment is usually well kept and protected as necessary to keep pristine. The occasional web clings here and there before being dusted off.
He wears a winged helm proudly, which lately is also topped by a shining crown. The weight of the paired head gear seems to be taking a toll on his neck.
A rarely touched pouch hangs from his robes. Whatever its contents, they seem to suck the light around it.
A chill oozes from an Ice Titan head within his pack. He can be heard calling it Ticy. The head seems either dormant or very much dead.
A necklace with a small figurine of a winged lizard-like creature can sometimes be seen when it comes out of his robes.