Assaj is a pale, nearly ghostly white woman who despite hours spending in the sun never seems to take any sort of color on her cheeks. Her hair is of the nearly same shade, half of it shaven off, now brushed back and cut shorter, allowing it to cover the shaven part of her skull, trying to grow it in a less aggressive hairstyle. A thing braid trails down her right shoulder, the only lock that had kept the original lenght of her precious hairdo. Her eyes are a pale grey, nearly white as well, always looking sharp and dangerous, always giving a message to back off from her unless one knows what they are doing. Her lips are thin and while they are often drawn in a smile, it rarely is a nice one; it speaks of violence, pain and mockery most often, rarely of genuine joy. Her nose has surprisingly no traces of ever having been broken, the bridge straight and narrow. Her jaws and chin are sharp, giving her a pointed face, her cheekbones starkly sticking out. She might have been of a certain, savage and cold like beauty once upon a time. However, nothing much allow one to say so any longer.
Her face is horrifically scarred on the right side, layers upon layers of deep cuts and burns twisting and marring her flesh into something grotesque. The sharpest of these scars is a black colored one, as if one had poured ink over the cut: a single word in black speech could be recognized, defining her as a 'snaga', or slave. On the left side are tribal like tattoos, the stark purple ink standing fiercely against her wight like complexion. Each of these tattoos contain a story, some of them looking newer than others.

Her body is also a huge canvas of scars of various sorts, most of them on her back and feet. Her neck has a vicious, deep looking flesh scar, where she has worn for years a thick iron band that dug in her skin, making it bleed daily. Her hands and feet have similar burn scars as her face and her right hand is missing the tip of her middle finger, the ugly stub showing it had been bitten off. Her ears are shredded, one of them having been gnawed on by some beast (an orc she would tell you) and the other no doubt having had rings in it that had been ripped out.
However, despite that, her whole form shows that she is a lean, elegant moving woman, her muscles starkly standing out under her white skin. Her waist is slim, her hips as well, but her chest is bountiful as some would call it. She is tall, standing on a firm height of 1.84 meters and her shoulders are always squared with strength and confidence. Her steps are full of assurance and a certain swagger, chin high, nearly giving her a queenly countenance. Her age is undefined, but if one would have to give an approximate guess, she might be in her late twenties, early thirties.
 

Despite her apparent savage origins, Assaj is a rather well dressed woman. But it is a strange combination of garbs that do not fit with one another and while it is all clean, almost obsessively so, it is clear the clothes did not come together when she acquired them. However, they share in common shades of brown, violet or red, depending on what she decides to wear.
The hood is the oldest clothing piece she owns, the hems frayed and the fabric looking worn down on certain places. It also has been dyed multiple times, some places showing a darker shade than on others. 
She likes formfitting clothes - however her most recent hauberk hides more of her figure than her previous one. The fabric is covered in rich embroideries, but they look old and frayed, representing some died out noble house of which's name is forgotten. The mail below the long draped jacket looks old as well, however is still in pristine condition, thanks to the work Assaj has put in it. Thick, hardened leather pads cover her shoulders and elbows, as well as one around her neck, so to avoid dying stupidly from a stray arrow.
Her boots are the newest piece of her outfit - still made of leather, however covered with metal plates that reached up from her shins to her toes. They are less comfortable and do make a bit more noise than her old ones, but at least there isn't a hole in the left sole anymore, which certainly does add to her comfort.
 

Her choice of weapons is quite simple. Two handed weapons are her preference, but she has a sharp dagger stored away in one of her sleeves, hidden from view. Her current weapons however are out of the usual norm for her: both were gifts and both have become two of her most prized possessions. One of them is a one handed axe, covered in runes she cannot read, offered by The Weakling (where he got it, she has no idea). The other one is a stiletto, that lacks perhaps the beauty of the axe, but is sharp enough to cut flesh like butter; the blade was given to her by the Golug-Lover.