The Sentinel's form appears as obsidian flesh shot through with veins of molten gold that pulse with ancient fire. Their eyes burn with embers that never die, and a crown of twisted iron antlers rises from their brow like the branches of a dead forest. Their shadow extends farther than physics should allow, and within it, the whispers of every raider who failed can be heard.

The Hoard Sentinel judges all who enter the vault, marking the worthy with golden favor and the unworthy with shadow's curse. Bearers of this entity carry the weight of that judgment, and their presence in any league serves as proof that they have earned the dragon's respect - or at least its attention.