Varis Kor-Tally
Wizard 14, School of Divination; Rogue 4, Mastermind
Varis Kor-Tally
Species
Brass Dragonborn
Appearance
Varis is a broad-shouldered brass dragonborn with the dense, powerful build of someone raised hauling ledgers and cargo weights rather than sitting behind a desk. His deep copper scales have a dry, brushed texture, with brighter brass ridges along his jaw, collarbones, and forearms. He moves with deliberate economy, favoring his left side as though every turn were part of a measured diagram, yet his claws tap constantly in prime-number rhythms against nearby surfaces. His amber eyes remain magnified behind wire-frame lenses mounted on a narrow brass bridge. Within a minute of meeting him, most people notice his teeth: his lower canines are capped in polished gold, and he presses them together while thinking, producing a faint metallic tick. His laugh is surprisingly soft and birdlike, utterly at odds with his imposing frame and severe expression. He leaves the impression of a fortress that has learned to whisper.
“Measured and low, with each sentence delivered as if it were being entered into a permanent record. He pauses before names, repeats important figures once, and becomes almost whisper-soft when making a threat.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Wire-frame magnifying lenses fixed to a brass bridge over his snout.
Polished gold caps on his lower canines that make a faint metallic click when he thinks.
A heavy brass sorting-abacus whose sliding beads are engraved with tiny names rather than numerals.
Claws that tap in prime-number sequences whenever he is concentrating.
A faint smell of cedar oil, hot metal, and iron-gall ink clinging to his scales.
Voice
“A deep, resonant baritone softened by careful restraint, with a dry rasp beneath it like a quill moving across rough parchment.”
Clothing
An ink-stained gray wool tunic beneath an open merchant's coat lined with dull brass buttons, reinforced leather boots, fingerless accounting gloves, a narrow sash of sealed writing tubes, and a heavy brass sorting-abacus hanging from his belt
Body Language
Varis stands squarely and rarely fidgets above the waist, but his claws tap coded rhythms against his abacus, desk, belt buckle, or his own forearm. He leans slightly toward people who tell the truth and subtly angles his horns away from anyone he believes is lying. During danger, he becomes unnervingly still except for the single claw that continues counting.
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