Perry is a lean, tawny-furred male tabaxi with dark brown rosettes, pale green eyes, and a long ringed tail. His left ear is nicked from an old cave-in, and a thin scar runs across his muzzle. He wears well-maintained chain mail beneath a weather-stained gray cloak, with a wooden holy symbol of a quiet forest spring hanging at his throat. His paws are stained with herbs, ink, and ash from years of tending the sick and studying forgotten mysteries.

Perry is observant, soft-spoken, and intensely curious. He is compassionate toward the sick, injured, and frightened, but his attention can wander whenever he notices something unusual. He prefers quiet conversations, careful questions, and practical kindness over grand declarations of faith.

Perry Allison was born among a wandering tabaxi caravan, where curiosity was treated as both a gift and a dangerous appetite. He spent his early years collecting stories, feathers, broken charms, and rumors of places no sensible traveler would visit. That fascination eventually led him into a remote mountain monastery, where he sought answers about a recurring dream of a black river flowing beneath the world. The monks recognized his unusual sensitivity to suffering and taught him the rites of healing, prayer, and patient observation. In time, Perry became a cleric devoted to the balance between life, death, growth, and decay, rather than to any single rigid doctrine. After a plague swept through a nearby valley, Perry withdrew into a lonely woodland hermitage. There he studied medicinal plants, treated wounded animals, and translated fragments of an ancient devotional text found beneath a ruined shrine. His discovery was disturbing. The plague had not been entirely natural, and its symptoms matched the first signs of a deeper spiritual blight spreading through the land. Perry has now left his hermitage to investigate the source, carrying his notes, his herbs, and the conviction that preserving life sometimes requires confronting forces that would rather remain undisturbed.