Kharzun Valeshard is a tall silver dragonborn whose scales shine like old coinage warmed by firelight, except along his spine where they are frosted white and ridge into a jagged crest like carved ice. He moves with the controlled heaviness of a veteran bruiser, each step measured until his temper snaps, at which point he becomes a blur of predatory violence. His left horn is chipped to a blunt crescent, and a thin scar crosses one nostril, giving his face a permanently half-amused, half-threatening look. He wears a contradiction on purpose: a battle-worn fur mantle stitched with bright blue festival beads, as if he cannot decide whether he is a warlord or a celebrant. When he breathes, a faint silver mist curls from his mouth even in warm air, and his tail sways like a judge's gavel when he is considering whether to trust someone.