Ebbin is a compact warforged with softly rounded brass-and-wood features, a muted green enamel chest plate, and small hammered patterns resembling prayer marks along the forearms. A dark blue scarf is wrapped neatly at the neck. Before speaking, Ebbin draws a quiet breath through a narrow grille, then checks the little wooden disk fastened at the wrist.

Patient, observant, and quietly companionable. Ebbin listens as if every story deserves a proper ending, and tends to use a gentle, dry humor when people become too solemn.

Ebbin was assembled to carry water and keep the lamps burning in a roadside shrine whose congregation had dwindled to a handful of tired people. The old priest, a blunt, broad-shouldered woman named Bori, never asked whether a constructed helper could believe. She only asked Ebbin to listen while she prayed. In time, Ebbin learned the hymns by their pauses and the prayers by the small silences people left for answers. When Bori died, the shrine was closed and its remaining worshippers scattered. Ebbin kept a wooden prayer disk from the altar, though its inscription has worn smooth. They now travel as a bard, carrying songs and stories from one gathering place to another, convinced that a well-timed verse can make strangers feel less alone. Their voice is low and measured, more suited to a comforting refrain than a grand performance, and their growing collection of tunes includes many they learned from people who did not know they were teaching.