Miriam 'Ma' Baker

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10
LVL

Ranger Wyvern Rider

Miriam 'Ma' Baker

Level 10·Female·Medium
Lawful Neutral

Species

Hobgoblin

Appearance

Miriam 'Ma' Baker is a powerfully built hobgoblin with grey-green skin that looks weathered like old slate after rain. Her small tusks are capped and scarred from old bites, and her face is dominated by one cruel yellow eye with a serpentine, unblinking stare and one violet eye ringed by heavy scar tissue that makes her seem half-cindered and half-regal. She wears layered armor stitched from cured wolf fur and plated with purple wyvern scales that still flash a living sheen when she moves. Over baggy cargo pants and worn jackboots she keeps a filthy vest packed with maps, bolts, and trophies. Her green pixie-cut hair sticks out in bristling clumps, and her ears are pierced over and over with bone rings, brass hoops, and little war-tags. Dog tags clatter at her neck. She moves with a predator's economy, but sometimes pauses to smooth the fur on her collar as if she were already someone else's grandmother. The contradiction makes her unsettling and strangely comforting at the same time.

Height6 ft 1 in
BuildBroad-shouldered, thick-muscled, and heavy through the chest and hips, built like a siege ram wrapped in scar tissue.
EyesOne cruel yellow eye and one violet eye ringed by heavy scarring
HairBrutal green
SkinGrey-green, weathered like slate after rain

Low, clipped, and practical, with the cadence of someone giving orders across a battlefield. She uses endearments sparingly, but when she does they land with startling warmth.”

Ability Scores

STR
18+4
DEX
16+3
CON
16+3
INT
12+1
WIS
16+3
CHA
10+0

Alignment

Good
Lawful
Chaotic
EvilLawful Neutral

Distinguishing Features

Heterochromic eyes, one yellow and one violet, with severe scarring around the violet eye

Bone and brass piercings from lobe to cartilage

Dog tags worn like a religious emblem

A living mantle of purple wyvern scales that still faintly glimmer

A habit of standing between danger and the nearest child without thinking

Voice

Gravelly, stern, and dryly affectionate, with the faint air of someone always deciding whether to scold you or adopt you.

Clothing

Cured wolf-fur armor over purple wyvern-scale plates, baggy cargo pants, scarred jackboots, a dirty tactical vest, bone-pierced ears, dog tags, and belts loaded with bolts, cords, flints, and field gear.

Body Language

She stands square-shouldered and still, then moves in sudden, efficient bursts as if each motion has already been rehearsed in three different wars. When thinking, she taps two fingers against her dog tags. When affectionate, she hooks one thumb into a strap or collar, anchoring herself to whoever she is protecting.

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