Tall, imposing figure wrapped in crimson robes with gold embroidery. He moves with the precise economy of someone trained to command; his gait is direct and unhurried, the kind of presence that shrinks a room into a court. He always wears a polished gold-plated helmet with a slit visor that hides his face. When he removes the helm in private he reveals dark, deeply-lined skin and a long pallid scar that crosses his left cheek and up into his hairline. Unexpectedly, beneath the prim and ceremonial robes he wears a set of hand-stitched sailors' trousers from his childhood port city, a hidden nod to his roots and a contradiction to his otherwise immaculate presentation.