Wembenyana is a tall and exceptionally thin human with lanky limbs. His skin is unnaturally pale and cool to the touch, and his eyes are the color of a frozen glacier. He wears cerulean robes lined with thick white fur, and his breath often comes out in a faint mist even in warm weather.

I judge people by their actions, not their words. I remain calm when everyone else is panicking, for the cold does not allow for frantic movement. I am slow to trust but unyielding once my loyalty is earned.

Wembenyana was born in the tundra of the High Reach. He was never a child of muscle or field work. While others labored in the forge, he spent his hours reading the few brittle scrolls left by a hermit who once lived in the hills. When a Frost Giant thrall descended upon his village during a particularly brutal blizzard, the youth stood alone on the barricade. He felt the cold air inside his lungs turn into a weapon, and with a single gesture, he encased the beast feet in solid ice. This act of defiance saved the granaries and the lives of dozens of families. The villagers cheered him as a hero, though Wembenyana felt a strange distance between himself and the neighbors he had known his whole life. The magic had changed him, turning his skin pale and his temperament as still as a frozen lake. He realized that the village was safe for now, but the source of the unnatural winter still lingered in the peaks. Armed with his tattered spellbook and a simple staff, he set out from his home to master the freezing power within him. He travels not for gold or glory, but to ensure that no other community suffers the biting chill of the dark spirits he faced. His folk hero status precedes him in the northern hamlets, where tales of the Ice Weaver offer hope to those struggling against the elements.