Therx is a massive Firbolg standing nearly eight feet tall, with pale, moon-blue skin and thick, moss-white hair. Their nose is wide and flat, often twitching at forest scents. They wear heavy iron chain mail that has been dulled with ash to prevent reflection, and they carry a massive maul carved from a slab of dark grey basalt. Their eyes are a misty silver, appearing almost clouded as if looking into another plane of existence.

Solemn and deeply observant, Therx speaks in a low rumble that sounds like grinding stone. They possess a quiet dignity and often remain silent for hours, though they are constantly scanning the perimeter for threats. They view their adventuring party as a grove of trees, each with a different purpose that must be nurtured and protected from the wind.

Therx was born in the deep, silent woods outside Duskendale, serving as a silent acolyte at the Fane of the Dimming Sun. This ancient site was meant to hold the barrier between reality and the Feywild steady. When a surge of chaotic energy struck the Fane, the resulting magical backlash did not kill Therx but fractured their timeline. Now, Therx exists alongside potential versions of themselves, which manifest as grey, silent ghosts during battle. Having lost their temple to the temporal distortion, Therx wandered into Duskendale. There, they found purpose among a group of traveling warriors. They believe that their companions are the only thing keeping them anchored to the present, and they fight with a strange, double-edged grace to ensure none of their friends vanish as their home did.