A towering figure cloaked in shadow and silver, Baan exudes the commanding presence of an ancient power long thought lost to time. His head bears the fierce visage of a wolf, eyes burning with molten gold that pierces through darkness like twin suns in eclipse. Every movement radiates controlled ferocity — the restrained grace of a predator who has mastered both flesh and magic.

His robe, woven from threads of midnight and moonlight, shimmers with intricate runes that pulse faintly with arcane energy. Silver patterns coil along the fabric, shifting subtly as if alive, echoing forgotten sigils of celestial origin. From his hands extend sharpened claws — not mere weapons, but conduits of magic capable of rending both body and soul.