He is wise.
A slim Ai-Naidari whose robes served to anchor him; he was old enough to seem ethereal, the thin velvet of his pelt worn almost to translucence. His eyes are pale lavendar.
He and the Calligrapher have had a long and enigmatic association. They have known one another from before Farren's elevation to the public servant caste, when Farren found himself so drawn to the words and arts of other Ai-Naidar that he would make pilgrimages to the city from the country, where his family dwelt.