A broad-shouldered wood elf with warm brown skin, close-cropped black hair, and amber eyes flecked with green. He wears well-maintained chain mail beneath a moss-green surcoat, with a plain wooden holy symbol tied beside his shield. A narrow scar crosses his left eyebrow, and his long ears are decorated with small copper rings engraved with the names of his closest friends.

Warm, attentive, and quietly intense. Tamba remembers small details about everyone he meets, such as which hand they favor or how they take their tea. He is slow to distrust strangers, but once someone earns his loyalty, his protectiveness becomes almost immovable.

Tamba grew up among the deep green groves of a wood elf shrine where travelers, hunters, and wounded strangers were given food before they were asked their names. His mother kept the shrine's records, while his older brother Mosi trained as a warden. Tamba was never the quiet mystic his teachers expected. He was too quick to volunteer, too willing to stand between an angry stranger and a frightened friend, and too stubborn to abandon anyone once he had offered help. The shrine's elders eventually recognized that his faith was not expressed through contemplation, but through steadfast presence. When raiders burned a waystation near the forest border, Tamba found Mosi alive beneath the wreckage, but three traveling companions were still trapped inside. He carried them out one by one, returning through smoke and falling beams until the last survivor was safe. Afterward, he swore an oath to protect the people who had placed their trust in him, not as a grand promise to the world, but as a daily obligation to the person standing nearest. He left the shrine with a battered shield, a prayer book filled with his mother's handwriting, and the belief that loyalty is a form of worship. He now travels as a paladin, seeking companions whose lives he can guard and causes worthy of the same fierce devotion.