Outwardly, Raznik is an average specimen of the hardy southern desert tribes, his weary dark-skinned face is all that remains visible beneath the tattered nomad's robes and turban. For man as young as he, his eyes speak of loss and loneliness far beyond his years. Held lightly in his right hand is a rough quarterstaff, battered by years of use. Beneath his robes, the shape of some form of loose armour can be be made out as the wind batters the loose fitting garment against his body.

Raznik is a quiet man who always measures his words, keeping to himself for the most part. He follows a strict code of etiquette, and will never pry into another's business, enless it concerns their safety.