Zoran Veyri
Rogue 11, Mastermind / Bard 9, College of Lore
Zoran Veyri
Species
Blue dragonborn
Appearance
A sharp-eyed young blue dragonborn man with dark indigo scales that carry a fine, dry texture like glazed stone left beneath desert wind. His horns sweep backward in narrow, polished ridges, and several tiny brass rings have been fitted into the scales behind his jaw to hold coded academy insignia. He moves with rigid precision, stopping exactly where a doorway, desk, or line of sight demands, yet his tail betrays him by making small, restless compass arcs whenever he is frightened. His uniform is immaculate from a distance and visibly overworked up close, with hand-tightened seams, hidden pockets, and repairs so careful they resemble decorative stitching. The impression he leaves is of a cadet who has somehow become part officer, part librarian, and part locked filing cabinet.
“Measured, quiet, and formally articulate. His voice has the controlled cadence of an academy lecturer, but he inserts startling pauses before names, dates, and emotionally significant words.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Brass message cylinders are concealed beneath the altered seams of his tunic and produce a faint metallic click when he turns.
His left glove is always spotless and carefully mended, while the right glove is replaced frequently because he uses it to handle ink, dust, and hidden mechanisms.
His tail makes small compass-like arcs whenever he is frightened, despite his otherwise perfect discipline.
He can recite the academy's current duty roster from memory, including the names of students who officially do not exist.
His academy sash bears an obsolete honor that was erased from the college's records after its original recipient was purged.
Voice
“A low, polished baritone with a faint rasp beneath it, like a quill dragged across rough parchment. He sounds most dangerous when he is being perfectly polite.”
Clothing
A polished brass-trimmed House Ayrthiarch cadet tunic altered with hidden message cylinders, reinforced black trousers, soft-soled academy boots, a narrow blue sash bearing obsolete honors, and a pair of immaculate white gloves that he removes only when handling evidence
Body Language
His shoulders remain square and his chin level, as if a drill instructor might appear at any moment. He rarely points with a finger, preferring a slight tilt of his horn or a precise movement of his folded notes. When lying, he becomes unnaturally still. When telling the truth about something painful, his tail begins tracing slow circles.
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