Thalen Korrin moves like a man who has practiced entering and leaving rooms with the precision of a negotiator closing a deal. He keeps his shoulders square and his head tilted slightly as if always listening for a pause to exploit. His suit is tailored to a gnomish silhouette with extra sleeve pockets stitched into the lining for contracts, quills, and a tiny ledger. The left lapel is adorned with a slim brass sigil in the shape of a stylized cog wrapped by a quill, polished to a soft glow. His spectacles have lenses of different tints, one amber and one pale green, which gives his gaze an oddly layered focus. Unexpectedly, his right shoe is patched with a childlike patchwork of bright cloth scraps in defiance of otherwise immaculate presentation.