Fizzlewick Brassbolt is a compact rock gnome with soot-smudged hands, velvet-soft cheeks, and the kind of alert posture that makes him seem permanently mid-scheme. His beard is trimmed into two neat coppery braids threaded with tiny gear teeth, and his hair stands in unruly silver springs that crackle with static whenever he grows excited. One eye is bright amber and sharp as a jeweler's lens, while the other is pale blue and glassy, clearly an enchanted replacement that whirs faintly when he blinks. He wears a patchwork waistcoat of emerald brocade, grease-dark leather aprons, and immaculate little boots with brass buckles polished to a mirror shine, which makes the perpetual stains on his sleeves look almost deliberate. He moves with quick, precise darts and sudden stillness, like a clock hand that has learned to improvise. The unexpected contradiction is that for all his oily fingers and workshop clutter, he smells faintly of lavender soap and fresh bread.