Standing at six foot eight inches tall and bearing a rotund but heavily muscular frame, the Baron cuts a very imposing figure for a human.
His sense of style is as impressive as his size. His cleanly shaven head is as striking for its lack of ornamentation as his body is striking for being permanently draped in a ludicrous excess of exquisite silk garments and astronomically expensive jewellery. His distinctive and puzzling amber-gold eyes are one of the many causes of the cyclone of whispered rumours that swirl incessantly in his wake.
Another such rumour is that of his providence. The most popular opinion is that the Baron originated from Conoma, the Red Jewel of the Western Coast. Most people make the simple argument that the Baron, as inordinately wealthy as he clearly is, can't possibly have come from anywhere else but the obscenely affluent haven for the very richest of Thera's denizens.
Now, however, the whereabouts of the Baron are a mystery to no-one, at least not if you are also a resident of the extraordinary metropolis known as Comet. If you spend as little as a week in Comet, you are likely to be able to experience one of the Baron's frequent, extravagant public appearances. Perhaps you will catch an announcement of the opening of yet another of his myriad business ventures, entrepreneurial enterprises, or technomantic research projects. Perhaps you will spot him making a public ceremonial appearance, such as when he formally opened Comet's largest orphanage, constructed using only his personal funds. Or perhaps you will experience an instance of the Baron's favourite kind of public engagement: extravagance for the sake of extravagance.
The Baron is said to have first called Comet his home twenty years ago, and for every year of the last two decades, the Baron has not failed to delight, fascinate and entertain the inhabitants of Comet, on numerous occasions each year. None who were there will ever forget that frosty winter's night when the Baron unveiled a teetering mountain of imported fireworks which were so numerous that the sky never went dark that night. It is still a permanent part of the rotation of tales told in taverns across Comet, that tale of when, whether by powerful magic, masterful engineering, or both, the Baron had the Stonestream rigged to run with wine instead of water on the day of the Prime Minister's birthday. And a great many Cometons would tell you with certainty that once, the Baron hosted a dance party which was so intense and so well-attended that after five days of frantic, unceasing hedonism, the party only stopped because a considerable patch of the great rock floor of Comet itself fractured and split under the prolonged duress of thousands of dancers' feet.
It can surely be claimed, therefore, that the Baron is a beloved, treasured figure of great renown in Comet, throughout Aerlan, and perhaps even across all of Thera. There is, however, an inescapable and yet intangible air of mystery that shrouds the Baron despite how much he throws himself into the public sphere. Perhaps he is simply too wealthy for most people to feel they can really relate to him. Perhaps the inscrutability of his origins sow mistrust amongst some (what or where is he the Baron of, exactly?) And perhaps some think that those glittering, brilliant, golden eyes must speak to some magic or power lying hidden within the Baron; perhaps those people fear him for it.
Regardless of what others may or may not think, the Baron will no doubt go on as he always has done: a whirlwind of shimmering colour and bold flourishes poured into the titanic cast of the business magnate, philanthropist and mildly-anarchic party animal known as Baron Leonin Tigrisus.
N.B.
If you don't happen to bump into him in Comet, look to what is by far the largest and most luxurious mansion in the most expensive street in the city (the mansion's his, of course).
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