Saruman the White swept into the chamber in all his tall glory. Like the wind, he moved without the sound of footsteps yet he left an impression as he moved by, an unseen but felt force blowing everyone's hair for a moment.
Saruman himself was definitely meant to be seen. He wore elegant robes of white which made his height seem even more grand. Both his long hair and beard where also white, making his pale face almost seem a healthy flesh tone in contrast. If eyes could be described as burning with black fire, then these were the eyes that studied the others in the room, lingering carefully on them while he stood at the head of the table. Not a hint of what he thought revealed itself as the wizard sat down. He held his staff with one long-fingered hand and he waited silently.