Ashka Siphon-Claw
Rogue 7, Thief, Master Machinist
Ashka Siphon-Claw
Species
Cinderclaw, Forge-Kin
Appearance
Ashka is a compact Cinderclaw with rust-red scales that darken to burnt umber along her spine and muzzle. Her scales have a dry, pebbled texture, but the skin around her wrists gleams with a permanent film of machine oil. She moves in quick, economical bursts, climbing over equipment with the confidence of something born inside a workshop rather than raised in one. Her heavy tool harness hangs from a reinforced shoulder frame, crowded with pressure gauges, pneumatic wrenches, oilers, mineral chisels, clamps, and tiny brass listening cones. She smells of hot iron, bitter lamp oil, and sweet mineral dust. The unexpected softness of her appearance is a pair of pale wool wraps around her ankles, hand-knitted by the quarry families she supervises. Before she speaks, she usually pauses to inhale through her teeth, listening to the nearest pipe or wall.
“Fast, sharp, and heavily accented by clipped Cinderclaw consonants. Ashka speaks as if every sentence must outrun a burst pipe.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A constant faint whistle accompanies her breathing when she is excited, caused by an old fragment of metallic dust lodged in a nasal passage.
Her left horn is wrapped in red measuring thread marked with tiny crew names and dates.
The pads of her claws are stained dark blue from Star-Sand residue that never fully washed away.
She carries a brass listening cone and presses it against surfaces before trusting them.
Her pale ankle wraps contrast sharply with her soot, oil, and rust-stained work gear.
Voice
“A bright, rasping contralto with a metallic edge, like a kettle beginning to boil beneath a layer of gravel”
Clothing
A soot-black canvas work coat reinforced with copper stitching, a layered leather-and-brass tool harness, padded climbing trousers, heatproof gloves, and pale wool ankle wraps. Her coat is patched with scraps of old drill belts, each patch marking a crew member she has brought home alive.
Body Language
Ashka leans forward as if every conversation is a machine about to malfunction. Her claws tap gauges, belt buckles, and nearby stone in changing rhythms. When angry, she freezes completely except for the slow tightening of her jaw. When relieved, her tail coils around one ankle and gives a small involuntary wag.
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