Sava Dorgun
Fighter, Battle Master with custom Winter Smoke enchantments
Sava Dorgun
Species
Human
Appearance
Sava is a broad-shouldered man with the compact, weathered strength of someone who has spent decades sleeping in armor and walking behind marching columns. His skin is warm brown, roughened at the knuckles and softened at the temples by age. His hair is black threaded with silver, worn in a thick braid bound with iron rings, while the rest falls to his collar in loose waves. He moves with surprising quiet for a heavily armored man, placing each foot as though the ground might remember him. Within a minute of meeting him, most people notice that his eyes rarely settle on faces. They travel instead to hands, doorways, rooflines, weapons, and the nearest route to higher ground. His most unexpected feature is his gentleness with fragile objects. He handles teacups, written letters, and children's toys with exquisite care, even while discussing conquest in the same calm breath.
“His speech is measured, warm, and economical. He pauses before answering difficult questions, not because he lacks words but because he is deciding how much truth the listener can safely carry.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
His eyes track hands, weapons, exits, and elevated positions before they ever settle on a speaker's face.
His voice is warm and low, but when he is startled it rises into a soft, almost embarrassed whisper.
He wears a single iron ring made from the melted buckle of the officer he struck during his first rebellion.
The runes on his armor are filled with pale blue enamel that glows faintly whenever he gives an order that will cause bloodshed.
He smells faintly of cedar smoke, horse leather, and bitter tea.
Voice
“A low, warm baritone with a faint rasp like paper dragged across hammered metal. He sounds reassuring when giving orders and almost apologetic when delivering threats. If startled, his voice briefly becomes a soft whisper before returning to its usual calm register.”
Clothing
Layered lamellar armor of dark lacquered leather and blue-gray steel, each plate etched with tiny protective script. A faded cream sash is tied at his waist over a quilted winter coat. His gloves are lined with red wool, and a plain gray scarf covers his throat against the mountain cold. He wears no crown, only a narrow iron circlet hidden beneath his braid.
Body Language
Sava stands with his weight evenly distributed, never leaning on furniture or crossing his arms. His left hand rests near his hammer, while his right hand remains open and visible. When angered, he stops blinking and begins smoothing the edge of one glove with his thumb. When grief breaks through his discipline, his breathing becomes shallow and audible through his nose.
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