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Dimo Petru

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DP
5
LVL

Lanternwright Investigator

Dimo Petru

Level 5·Male·Medium
Pragmatic good, with a growing habit of choosing the honest harm over the comforting lie

Species

Half-Elf

Appearance

Dimo looks like a man built from long shifts and poorly healed accidents. His face is narrow, weathered, and usually smudged with soot beneath one eye. He moves with a careful, economical limp, yet his hands are astonishingly quick, always measuring distances, testing hinges, or catching falling tools without looking. His left ear is slightly pointed and pierced with three mismatched copper rings, while his right ear is rounder and scarred from a childhood burn. He has the tired posture of a laborer and the watchful stillness of a hunted animal. The unexpected contradiction is his smile: broad, gentle, and almost boyish, appearing most often when he is frightened.

Height5 feet 10 inches
BuildLean, wiry, and work-hardened, with narrow shoulders, strong forearms, and the compact balance of someone accustomed to ladders and wet roofs.
EyesLeft eye hazel green, right eye cloudy amber with a faint blue reflection
HairDark brown, threaded with premature silver, cut unevenly with a knife and usually flattened by rain or grease
SkinWarm olive brown with a fine scatter of freckles across the nose and old soot embedded in the creases of his hands

“Low, dry, and conversational, with a faint river-district cadence. He speaks quickly when discussing tools and painfully slowly when discussing the dead.”

Ability Scores

STR
10+0
DEX
10+0
CON
10+0
INT
10+0
WIS
10+0
CHA
10+0

Alignment

Good
Lawful
Chaotic
EvilPragmatic good, with a growing habit of choosing the honest harm over the comforting lie

Distinguishing Features

A pale burn scar circles his right wrist like a bracelet.

His left eye is hazel, while his right eye is cloudy amber and reflects lamplight unnaturally.

Three copper rings pierce his slightly pointed left ear.

He carries a tiny brass key that opens nothing he admits to owning.

His limp becomes almost imperceptible whenever he is protecting someone else.

Voice

“A tired baritone with a dry laugh, roughened by smoke and river air. When he is genuinely afraid, his voice becomes soft enough that people lean closer without realizing it.”

Clothing

A patched brown work coat lined with blue sailcloth, charcoal trousers tucked into oil-stained boots, a faded red neck scarf, fingerless gloves, and a heavy leather tool belt crowded with screwdrivers, wire, chalk, nails, and tiny labeled vials.

Body Language

He keeps his shoulders slightly hunched, as though expecting a low ceiling. His fingers count invisible coins when he is thinking. In danger, his limp vanishes for a few seconds, replaced by a precise, fluid balance that reveals how much of the limp is habit and how much is pain.

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