Siora Galovan is a towering goliath woman with slate-gray skin, broad shoulders, and powerful arms marked by pale geometric birthmarks. Her dark hair is worn in a long, uneven braid secured with strips of red leather. One horn-like ridge of bone above her left eyebrow is cracked from an old avalanche accident. She wears patched hide armor, a weather-stained green cloak, and a necklace made from the claws of a mountain lion she killed with her bare hands. Her expression is usually stern and unreadable, though her rare smiles are surprisingly warm.

Quiet, blunt, and intensely self-reliant. Siora dislikes crowded rooms, complicated plans, and anyone who uses ten words when two will do. She has little patience for ceremony, but she notices practical kindness and repays it with absolute loyalty. She is not stupid, though she is easily frustrated by books, formal education, and social games.

Siora Galovan was born among a highland goliath clan that measured worth in useful deeds. She was expected to excel at climbing, tracking, crafting, counting, wrestling, and every other test by which the clan prepared its young for life in the mountains. She failed most of them. Knots slipped through her fingers, numbers blurred together, and she could never remember the proper songs or the names of distant relatives. What she could do was carry twice what others could, walk through snow after everyone else had turned back, and bring down stubborn game with a single brutal strike. When a winter expedition vanished in a whiteout, Siora followed the trail alone. She found the survivors trapped beneath an ice shelf and spent three days breaking a path through the frozen stone, dragging each person out one at a time. The clan praised her strength but treated her solitude as a defect, so Siora left before they could decide whether she belonged among them. Now she lives by hunting, salvaging, and taking dangerous work in places where civilization ends. She rarely seeks companionship, but she has an unspoken habit of leaving food, firewood, or repaired shelters behind for travelers who remind her of the people she once rescued.