A 6'0" medium-built male tiefling with white skin, long brown clotted hair, a pirate patch over his left eye, and a bloodshot right eye that seems to have seen too much sea spray and too many sleepless nights. Dark demonic script in blood red crawls down the left side of his body, while celestial script in pale light blue marks the right side, the two sets of tattoos winding over his skin like a private war. He carries himself like a man who expects betrayal, but still secretly hopes for revelation.

He is suspicious, observant, and dryly witty, with the habit of treating danger like a rude acquaintance. He likes honest work, but only if it involves lying first. Beneath the swagger is a restless seeker who wants proof that something higher than greed, fear, and the sea still exists.

Edrin Voss was born beneath a black-sailed ship and raised by the salt-stiff rules of sailors who trusted luck more than law. His infernal blood made him a curiosity from the start, but it was the paired tattoos that made him an omen. One side of his body bears the red script of the lower planes, etched by a dockside occultist who swore it was a curse. The other side carries the pale blue language of celestials, inked years later by a priestess who claimed the symbols would balance the first mark. Edrin has spent the years since trying to learn which of them was right, and whether either one was speaking to him at all. He served first as a deckhand, then a smuggler, then a pirate when the distinction became inconvenient. A boarding action cost him his left eye and left him with the patch he now wears like a trophy he never asked for. After that, he became useful in quieter ways, climbing rigging in a storm, lifting keys from sleeping captains, and slipping through locked holds with a grin that never quite reached his face. He no longer sails for plunder alone. Somewhere beyond the horizon, and perhaps beyond the gods themselves, there is a truth waiting for him, and Edrin means to steal it if he has to.