Attention, I have found this portrait in a convenient format to upload. Review it posthaste, then return to your labor. [Marech Veylor is a tall violetblood of severe military discipline and equal beauty. He is built with the kind of narrow elegance that lessers mistake for delicacy. His height gives him reach. His long limbs make the sabre’s length difficult to judge. His waist is trim from the discipline required to turn quickly, retreat cleanly, and keep a blade moving without dragging his body behind it. His shoulders are set high and trained into perfect form by sweeps of Uniform inspections and Dueling posture. His face is aristocratic in the most irritating sense. High cheekbones, a long nose, a precise mouth, and eyes that seem to inspect before they look. He considers these useful. A striking face holds attention, and attention is a handle by which an opponent may be moved. The eyes are especially valuable. They make weaker trolls overexplain themselves. They also make braver trolls angry enough to telegraph the first strike. Across one side of his face are clean, pale Dueling scars. Narrow marks drawn down across the cheek and near the brow. He wears them without apology. They prove he has stood against threats and taken steel without flinching. He is not disfigured. He is composed. His hair is dark, glossy, and kept longer than strict field practicality would recommend, though never loose when danger is expected. Tied back, it lengthens the line of his neck and leaves the face exposed, daring opponents to look at what they wish to damage. When loose, it is useful in theatre. He understands the value of making an enemy watch the wrong movements. His gills are sharp-edged and sensitive, set against the sides of his neck like violet slashes. They are beautiful, as they mark him as a seadweller. He is a difficult foe. His fins are neat, scar-notched, and pierced with restrained Officer’s metal. The piercings are placed so they do not interfere with aesthetics or functionality. His hands are the most revealing thing about him. Long fingers, immaculate nails, old calluses at the base of his thumb and along his palm. They are meant for letters and the stem of a glass, yet designed for grip correction, pressure, and cruelty. He is a refined Duelist. He dresses to emphasize every advantage. High collars frame the throat without restricting it. Gloves hide tells in the fingers. A tailored coat narrows the waist and broadens the shoulder, making his line harder to read at a glance. Polished boots give height, sound, and authority. He wears a Uniform of intimidation. Marech does not regard his appearance as a gift. He regards it as equipment. If others insist on finding him handsome, he will accept the tactical inconvenience, so long as he is permitted to draw his blade.] Signed and Ratified, Marech Veylor 1st Officer of the Threshecutioner Reserve
Now this is a show~.