Ferrum is a tall, slender warforged constructed from faded, grey iron that has lost its original luster. His face is entirely featureless, lacking a mouth or nose, dominated instead by two large, glowing ruby gemstone eyes. A permanent black soot stain covers the entire right side of his face and upper shoulder. He is incongruously dressed in tattered but high-quality red noble silks and a vibrant yellow hood that he keeps pulled low.

Ferrum maintains a stoic and formal demeanor that borders on mechanical obsession. He treats everyone with the deferential politeness of a seasoned butler, yet his movements are unsettlingly fast and precise. He possesses a strange dignity, even while wandering the wilds, as if he is still patrolling the halls of a palace that no longer exists.

Ferrum was forged for one purpose, to serve as the bodyguard and silent witness for the Archduke of Oakhaven. For decades, he stood motionless in the shadow of the throne, his ruby eyes recording every decree and whispered secret. He was more than a tool. He was the living legacy of the Sterling line, trusted to defend the bloodline with the lethal scimitar blade that extends from his left wrist. The peace ended in a night of fire and betrayal that Ferrum cannot fully process. A magical blaze swept through the estate, and while Ferrum stood firm against the assassins, the collapsing architecture left a permanent mark of soot upon his iron face and claimed the lives of his masters. He was found weeks later standing amidst the ash, still wearing his singed livery, waiting for instructions from a family that had turned to dust. Now he travels as a Ronin of sorts, carrying the signet ring of his house deep within his chassis. He offers his services to those who show the same noble spark his masters once possessed, though he often finds himself lost in the silence of his own featureless face.