A walking lanky corpse, ashen white standing 6ft tall, long grey hair fall down in a messy mane. Golden iris surrounded by black sclera stares at you. When his mouth open, a long sinuous and barbed tongue slither forth, distracting briefly from the rows of thin sharp teeth. 6 long fingers on each hands.

While his appearance drove other his age away, Enameva fled to the outdoor while wanting nothing more than to bond with others. In search of purpose, he turned to adventuring, hoping to make something of his fell magic.