Milo Breznik is a lean, sharp-eyed man in his mid-thirties with a tense, guarded posture and dark hair roughly cropped close to his scalp. His hands bear faint alchemical stains and calluses from handling volatile materials, and he dresses in nondescript, wool attire suited for blending seamlessly into the alleys of the Docks Ward. He carries himself with a controlled, quiet intensity, perpetually listening for the heavy footfalls of approaching city patrols or peacekeepers.