Otto Brannigan is a compact rock gnome whose clothes suggest two contradictory lives. His heavy leather vestments are cut with the precision of a court tailor, yet their seams are darkened by soot, oil, and the fine gray grit of Star-Sand refineries. His thick fingers are broad at the knuckle and permanently stained beneath the nails, each one burdened by a different guild signet ring. A neatly trimmed salt-and-pepper beard frames a mouth that rarely smiles without first measuring the room. Brass-rimmed magnifying lenses perch over calculating hazel eyes, their tiny articulated arms clicking softly whenever he turns his head. He walks with a brisk, economical shuffle, never quite hurrying, while the concealed gears in his left boot give off a faint warm tremor. The unexpected detail is his gentleness with broken things. Otto handles damaged toys, cracked cups, and wounded mechanical birds with the care of a priest tending relics.