Brannoc is a lean, medium-sized kenku with charcoal-black feathers washed to a muted gray along his neck and shoulders by years of rain, dust, and chimney soot. His amber eyes are sharp and restless. He wears a patched brown leather coat over scale mail, with one sleeve carefully re-stitched in green thread. His talons are permanently darkened from lamp oil and city grime. A narrow red ribbon, faded almost pink, is tied around his left wrist, and he keeps his well-maintained shortbow wrapped in oiled cloth whenever he is not using it.

Brannoc is observant, practical, and quietly compassionate. He notices who is hungry, who is being followed, and which door has been opened recently. He dislikes grand speeches but has a talent for making a single well-timed remark, often in someone else's voice, that exposes a lie or breaks the tension.

Brannoc was hatched beneath the slate roofs of a crowded river city, in a disused bell tower where a loose flock of kenku scavenged warmth and scraps. He learned the city first through sound. A watch captain's whistle, a baker's shouted order, the clack of a locksmith's tools, and the warning hiss of a rat all became landmarks in his private map of the streets. His closest companion was a one-eyed alley mouse that he called Tallow, after the candle scraps they shared in winter. When a gang used the flock's knowledge of hidden passages to rob poor tenants, Brannoc copied the gang leader's voice and lured the thieves into a waiting guard patrol, saving several families from eviction. The act made him unwelcome among criminals and too conspicuous for the flock's cautious way of life. A retired ranger named Heddan Pryce found him sleeping beneath a bridge and taught him to read tracks, judge weather, and loose an arrow without wasting movement. Brannoc now travels beyond the city walls, following rumors of creatures preying on travelers and children. He carries a hand-drawn map of the streets that raised him, adding every safe road and dangerous trail he discovers. He wants to become the kind of protector he once needed, even if he must assemble his courage from borrowed voices.