Tyrexes Flame-Gaze is a broad-shouldered half-dragon whose polished gold scales catch light like hammered coin, yet whose movements are unnervingly quiet for a man built like a gatehouse. He favors his left side when standing, not from injury but from long habit, keeping his seal-scepter between himself and every doorway. His sweeping obsidian crest horns curve backward above a smooth, severe brow. Within a minute of meeting him, most people notice his teeth: the front incisors are small and almost human, while the rear teeth are long, bluntly conical fangs that show whenever he chews, smiles, or speaks through restrained anger. His lower jaw clicks softly before he delivers a difficult verdict. The contradictory impression is striking: his body suggests a war engine, but his hands move with the delicate care of a jeweler handling wet parchment. He smells faintly of hot metal, cedar resin, and spiced milk. When he turns, the crimson folds of his cloak whisper across the floor before his claws do.