Velithra moves with a careful, deliberate precision, her lithe 3'8" frame clad in a patchwork leather apron stained with oil and tiny scorch marks. Her skin is a dusky gray, typical of her deep gnome heritage, but smooth and almost luminescent under Lockworth’s dim forges. Her hair, a riot of ink-black curls, is bound haphazardly with copper gears and silvery wires pinned in place. The most striking element are her steampunk-inspired goggles, always perched on her forehead or over her keen, sharp amber eyes, lenses sometimes flickering faintly with arcane-infused lights. One leg, from just below the knee, is a polished brass prosthetic, an elegant marvel of gears and pistons. Strangely, she occasionally unplugs a tiny socket on the side of this leg and brushes it with a delicate, antler-bristle brush, an action that feels oddly ritualistic rather than mechanical. While her movements hint at an engineer’s brusque efficiency, there’s a certain whimsical grace to her stride, from the light tap of gears to the soft padding of her other foot, almost like a dancer’s poise marred by industrial artifice. This contradictory blending of rough utility and delicate care makes her presence unforgettable.