Theodren Voss
Commoner
Theodren Voss
Species
Human
Appearance
Theodren Voss looks like a man made of weathered stone and late nights. He is broad-shouldered but slightly stooped from years of leaning into warped beams, with hands permanently nicked by old splinters and silvered sealant. His left sleeve is always rolled higher than the right, exposing a forearm latticed with pale burn scars that glow faintly when nearby wards fail. He moves with a careful, economical gait, as if every step is measured against an invisible crack in the floor. The strangest thing about him is his immaculate, almost ceremonial collar, white and starched, worn beneath a coat smeared with soot and mortar dust.
“Low and deliberate, with a dry workingman's humor and a habit of pausing before any important number or name.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Pale scar lattice across his left forearm that faintly warms near active magic
One brass eyelet sewn into his collar from the first breach he survived
A half-melted silver whistle tied to his belt
A soot-black thumbprint permanently stained into the web of his right hand
Voice
“Gravelly baritone, tired but steady, with sudden firmness when lives are at stake”
Clothing
A soot-dark repair coat with reinforced elbows, heavy tool belt, iron-toed boots, a white collar kept obsessively clean, and a red-thread armband of The Red Seam
Body Language
He stands squarely when calm but hunches forward when inspecting damage, fingertips grazing surfaces as if reading braille only he understands. When tense, he taps two knuckles against his own sternum before answering.
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