Orin Vane is a broad-shouldered brass dragonborn whose weathered scales have the dull, brushed texture of old courthouse plaques, brightening to a muted gold along his knuckles and jaw. He moves with surprising quiet for someone so large, placing each step as carefully as if crossing a sleeping courtroom. His amber eyes are sharp and constantly attentive, flicking between hands, exits, witnesses, and written seals. He smells faintly of hot metal, cedar dust, lamp oil, and the bitter mint lozenges he chews during long hearings. He does not seem aware of the smell. His most unexpected feature is his laugh: soft, dry, and almost dainty, completely at odds with his imposing frame and deep voice. It often makes pompous magistrates more nervous than a shouted threat.