Agwat moves like someone who studied both courtly etiquette and battlefield pacing. He wears a cropped, bronze-flecked cloak over a tailored doublet and burgundy sash; the cloak's inside is embroidered with a faded map of his province. His left cheek bears a thin white scar that twitches when he laughs. When standing still he tends to uncurl his fingers and tap his knuckles together as if testing the air for rules. Unexpectedly, he keeps one boot scuffed and patched while the other is polished to a shine — a deliberate affectation that unsettles some guests. Overall he gives the impression of careful control fraying at the edges, like a well-pressed uniform worn too long.