Though he dresses in the fine silks of the Dragon Caste, something about Akatha Irai seems wild. His beard and hair are long and dark, but slightly unkempt in a way that is more reminiscent of holy madness than anything else. Faint patterns of scars mar his otherwise plain features, little more than pale, raised lines on dark flesh. Despite his generally serious demeanor, there was wry compassion and curiosity in his rust-red eyes. Once upon a time, at least.

Now, there is a sense of someone too old staring out of his young face, and a hardness that has no place there. His recent exaltation seems to have given Irai a grim, quiet certainty- and the tenacity of a weed refusing to give up its grip.

Despite the wealth of the Dragon clans, Irai dresses relatively simply. While his clothes are crimson silks and fine linens, it is devoid of much of the ornamentation common amongst his peers. Instead, he carries plain satchels with poltices and herbs, and his strange array of pale needles and scalpels that seems to glow with an inner light, but provide no illumination. On those occasions where he must, Irai will don the red-lacquered armour of the Crimson Banner legion- his personal set being more ostentatious than most, decorated with a motif of twining thorn-branches and finches. Perhaps most oddly, though, is the stiff half-glove covering the last two fingers of his left hand- an adjustable prosthetic of his own design. The false fingers lack the motion of the originals, but can grip just fine when needed.

Rarely is Irai seen without his near-constant shadow- the towering goatman who serves as his bodyguard. Stone Thorn is a scarred, silent presence wherever Irai might go, serving as the young dragonblooded's strong right hand. Wearing crimson armour nearly as fine as Irai's own, the goatman is a warrior through and through- capable of going blade to blade against even the likes of Volivat's Yennin.