Sits like a mountain made smooth by wind. His massive shoulders fill the carved high-backed throne. His beard is braided into three heavy ropes, threaded with small iron talismans and a single strip of green leather that marks his clan; the beard ends shimmer with faint silver that catches torchlight. His crown is a circlet of hammered gold inset with riverstone garnets arranged like a small constellation. His plate is polished but scarred along the left breast and shoulder, each gouge telling of an old battle. The right pauldron bears an ornate relief of a hill giant’s fist broken by hammers. When he listens he leans forward, elbows resting on carved stone arms; when he speaks he rarely raises his voice yet always commands attention. Unexpected element: his right boot is slightly mismatched, the leather darker and patched with bright blue thread from a child who once sewed it for him.