Rishka is generally (he's a Druid, so you can't always rely on him to stick to two legs, two arms and clothing) a lean and tanned human male just beginning to leave the heady heights of youth for the steadier ground of early maturity, his expression usually one of good-natured and somehow innocent curiosity, as though in having seen much of the worst that the world has to offer (as adventurers so often do) he's become inured to more common depressions, shielded from them by an almost tangible aura of innocent faith in the essential providence of existence.

 He affects the sort of high-collared, long-sleeved and close-fitting leathers over simple linens that, though they went out of style in the West a century or more ago in favour of imported silks are nonetheless both comfortable and severely practical for the sort of outdoors life the druid leads. His hair - a dark almost mahogany brown - is a sometimes-combed, rarely-cut but nonetheless silky, almost furlike mass that rolls down his back some way past his shoulders whilst eyes both dark and lively peer out from between his often concealing fringe. His build is lean almost to the point of being gaunt, as though having failed to put on flesh early in life, it's now rather too late to go about it now - or perhaps as if he considers his body just a convenient way of transporting his serenity and curiosity from place to place.

 For adventuring purposes he's often seen carrying a slim scimitar named Eagles Claw and he'll usually have a slingshot about his person, but his most effective weapon - or at least defence - is his companion Dascara, a sleek she-wolf with a curious streak a mile wide who tends to assume that of the two of them, she's in charge.