Change weighs heavily on this unassuming figure, so much that those who once knew him would be hard-pressed to recognize his careworn face. His age is indeterminate, but he appears around middle-aged, and he has the look of a once-powerful man fallen on hard times. He is very thin, and seems frail at first glance; his dark hair is streaked through with white, and his voluminous, torn and dusty grey robe hangs loosely on his frame. He wears no jewelry or other accoutrements of power or wealth; the casual observer might easily mistake him for a beggar, were it not for the exquisitely carved ivory staff that he bears. It seems to catch and reflect the light around him, giving him an almost ethereal, mystical apperance.
There is more to this man than it seems at first, though; he walks with a smooth, even gait, without a trace of weariness, and when he looks up, his eyes are a deep, clear blue. His features, though worn and lined with age, reflect a surprising sense of calmness. There is a quiet sense of inner strength about him that belies his appearance of frailty; indeed, he seems to exude a strange confidence, a powerful sense of self, the mark of a man called by a power higher than himself.
