Tall but not towering, Taija stands less than half a handsbreath below six feet in height, her lean, athletic form only hinting at the appalling strength it contains.  Short, dark hair mostly covers a leather thong tied about her head, its ends dangling loosely.  Sharp features often settle on a quirky smile or hesitant grin, and her dark eyes are often wide, to better catch the ebb and flow of the world about her.

She oftentimes keeps her visage under a hood, though.  It's necessary to cover the unnaturally pale skin, as well as those curiously reversed dark eyes -  jet black around the iris (a brilliant sapphire) then pale azure in the small pupils.  Of course, one might mention the horns, were one blunt: large, curling affairs swinging around the back of her head.

Never mind that onlookers usually don't actually peer under that hood, due in no small part to Taija's eerie presence.  Coming close to her raises goosebumps; actually standing next to her is to enter a place twisted two degrees wrong.  Something within people instinctively shies away from whatever taint she carries.

When she moves to action, it is smoothly and with purpose; around a table, in conversation, her gestures are awkward and clumsy.

The rangy young woman wears heavy leather skirts, split to mid-thigh for faster movement and belted with braided bronze.  Covered by her thick cloak, a gleaming breastplate provides protection - the faded verdant vest peeking from beneath it leaves her shoulders and biceps free.  Heavy, steel gauntlets cover her hands, long metal shields extending back over her forearms for additional armor.  Two slender javelins rest in a thin quiver looped over one shoulder.  Finally, Taija bears a curious 'walking-stick' - a staff thick as a man's wrist, butted with a sheath of heavy iron and tipped with two feet of wide, curved blade.  The entire affair runs over a foot taller than her, and appears to be an extremely weighty argument against trouble.