Alaric is a man of soft curves and sharp edges. His frame is notably well-fed, straining the seams of a velvet doublet dyed in an expensive, deep plum. He possesses a waxed mustache so meticulously groomed it looks structural, which he smooths with a rhythmic, obsessive flick of his thumb. His eyes are like polished glass beads, darting rapidly to assess the cost of everything in the room. Despite his opulence, he smells faintly of nervous sweat masked by an overpowering, floral lavender cologne. He moves with a practiced, brisk stride that suggests he is always late for a more important meeting.