Rhogar is an elderly bronze dragonborn with scales the color of weathered, oxidized coins. His snout, brow, and knuckles have faded to a pale white. He wears simple, practical garments of green wool over layers of worn leather. He walks with a heavy limp, leaning on a staff of living wood that oddly continues to sprout fresh green leaves at its crown. He carries the scent of cold mountain water and the sharp tang of pine smoke.

Rhogar is incredibly patient and speaks with the measured slowness of a mountain stream. He views the world through the lens of cyclical growth and decay. He is rarely moved to anger, even when facing personal hardship, believing that all conflict is merely a precursor to a new season of life. He values quiet observation over hasty action and often answers questions with metaphors regarding the natural world.

For nearly half a century, Rhogar served as a humble acolyte in a coastal shrine dedicated to the Silver Dragon. He spent his days transcribing prayers and polishing the bronze censers of the temple. This life ended abruptly when a massive lightning storm, coupled with a brush fire, swept through the cliffs and reduced the sanctuary to charred ruins. While the other priests fled to the cities, Rhogar remained in the blackened remains of his home. He found that in the absence of stone walls and incense, he could hear the voice of the earth more clearly than ever before. He watched the first sprouts of green emerge from the ash and realized that the destruction was not a tragedy, but a divine transition. He traded his formal vestments for plain wool and began tending to the ruins as if they were a garden. The living wood staff he carries was salvaged from a sacred tree within the temple courtyard that refused to die. Now, he travels to see where else the earth requires a caretaker to bridge the gap between what was lost and what is yet to grow.