He was of a sleek nature, built upon legs with which could carry only him, as he intended to use them. He was a glutton by all accounts though he was of a slight build and yet he seemed to escape the diabolical restraints of food worship. He was ever so slight, how could I describe him more aptly than that? He was tall too, something he was ever so proud of and claimed it to be the right mixture of progenitorial prowess coursing his thick veins that granted him such a boon. Amongst his persons he carried finery the likes of Midas had obsessed. I had not put it past me much that his slothfulness may have been derivative of the weight he carried in gold and jewels. He had tended to wear his crown as much as was possible, though it’s weight had become something of an ailment and his neck had been the bearer of a burden quite crooked. Again, movement was not this, things, strong point in any case, unless it was in the course and action of swift greed and gluttony. Goddamn that man, oh how I loathe him so. His laboriously chiseled face, cheekbones that had near pierced his flesh had led to sunken eyes, puddles of avarice set about them. Dark hair covering his head, long and fragrant with rose thorns. His chin, one such extremity which sought to put his cheekbones to shame, it had indeed succeeded in it's purchase to pierce it's own flesh. A small scab can be seen about it’s exit, to which his hand tended to itch. And to cover such an extremity was that of a small tuft of hair that paraded as something akin to a beard.