Valerius has skin the deep, bruised red of cooling magma, appearing almost stone-like in texture. His horns have been brutally filed down to flat ivory stumps that he often rubs when deep in thought. One eye is a piercing amber, while the other is a milky white orb, blinded by a jagged scar that runs from his brow to his jaw. He stands with a rigid, military posture, moving with a heavy, deliberate gait that makes the floorboards groan, yet he possesses a startling capacity for absolute stillness. Contradicting his grim, soot-stained plate armor, he carries a delicate, perfectly preserved porcelain doll in a velvet side-pouch, which he cleans with obsessive care every evening.