Ostensibly a well-trained bladesman without masters or orders binding him down. But should a stare linger, it becomes far too easy to see beneath the surface. A near-hostile look scrutinizes friends and foes nearby in search for weaknesses, even the decorum most take for granted is clearly feigned in his case. There is a strange tensity to his movement and words, loaded with focused restraint and stifled violence - like a caged tiger.

That suit of witchfire-tempered battle armour with a single visible esoteric sigil for decoration is clearly custom work and it suits his average build well.

That blade he seems to keep around him at all times figuratively screams of awful events, its design resembling something unnaturally abyssal with its vein-like cracks that wait for something to flow through them.