Kaelen ibn-Zayd is a weathered air genasi whose body seems permanently shaped by altitude and hard wind. His skin is bronze-gray with faint cloudlike swirls beneath the surface, as though storm vapor has settled under his flesh. Steel-gray hair streams backward even in still rooms, coarse at the temples and silvered by salt, ash, and age. Deep laugh lines frame eyes the color of rainwater over dark stone, though his expression usually suggests he has not laughed in years. His movements are economical and shipsteady, with every step placed as if the floor might suddenly tilt. He leaves behind the impression of a battered iron monument: intimidating at first glance, reassuring once the danger begins. The contradiction is that his enormous, scarred hands are remarkably gentle with frightened children, injured birds, and delicate navigation instruments.