Flint Shard

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FS
0

Untrained Caravan Hunter

Flint Shard

0·Male·Medium
Neutral Good

Species

Human

Appearance

Flint Shard looks like a man carved down by wind, thirst, and hard decisions. His face is narrow and sun-cracked, with one cheek swollen purple from a recent blow. A long triangular scar runs from his left temple to the corner of his mouth, pulling his smile into a permanent expression of reluctant amusement. He moves with a stiff, careful limp, yet his eyes never stop measuring distances, exits, and shadows. His hands are rough and salt-whitened, with fingertips stained rust-red from handling blood-soaked coral. Unexpectedly, beneath his battered travel gear he wears a spotless ivory waistcoat embroidered with tiny blue flowers, a keepsake from a life he refuses to discuss.

Height5 feet 9 inches
BuildLean and rope-muscled, with the compact endurance of a long-distance runner rather than the bulk of a soldier.
EyesAmber-brown, with a pale blue fleck in the right iris
HairBlack threaded with premature silver, cut unevenly with a knife
SkinDeep bronze, weathered to a cracked ochre across the nose and cheekbones

Flint speaks in a low, dry voice with a rasp from inhaling too much desert dust. He pauses before names and directions, as though checking each one against an internal map.”

Ability Scores

STR
12+1
DEX
16+3
CON
12+1
INT
10+0
WIS
14+2
CHA
8-1

Alignment

Good
Lawful
Chaotic
EvilNeutral Good

Distinguishing Features

A triangular scar from his left temple to the corner of his mouth

A swollen left shoulder wrapped in blood-stained linen

Rust-red stains beneath his fingernails from coral dust

A silver tooth engraved with a tiny map of the Fallen Sea

A limp that becomes almost graceful when he is moving across loose sand

Voice

A dry desert rasp softened by careful courtesy, with sudden sharpness whenever he mentions the coral-marked raiders.

Clothing

A sand-colored caravan coat patched with blue sailcloth, a red scarf stiff with salt, loose linen trousers, cracked riding boots, a leather shoulder harness, and a spotless ivory waistcoat embroidered with blue flowers.

Body Language

Flint keeps his wounded shoulder tucked close to his ribs and supports himself with a crooked spear shaft. He rarely sits fully, preferring to perch where he can rise quickly. When frightened, he becomes perfectly still except for his thumb rubbing the edge of his knife.

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