A tall, hammered-iron warforged whose plates are burnished to the color of old bronze. The surface is embroidered with shallow, rune-like etchings that glow faintly like embers when he speaks. One shoulder plate is scarred by long, pale lichen growth that suggests years under a rain-swept sky; the opposite hip bears a polished brass plate engraved with a child's crude handprint. His movements are precise and economical, like a sentinel who has never forgotten posture, yet when he laughs his head cants and a small plume of steam vents from a neck valve. Unexpectedly, a linen scarf, faded and stitched with wildflower pollen, is tied beneath his chin, softening the machine lines with a domestic, almost human touch.