Orrik Voss
Rogue, Stormbound Tide Blade
Orrik Voss
Species
Human
Appearance
Orrik looks as though the coast has been trying to wear him away and has not yet decided whether to succeed. His face is narrow, wind-burned, and flecked with pale scars that cross his left cheek like dried river deltas. He moves with a sailor's rolling balance even on solid ground, always leaning into an invisible swell. His hands are wrapped in translucent fishskin and copper thread, the wrappings stained green where the weather stones have burned him. His coat is battered and salt-stiff, yet beneath it he wears an immaculate white shirt with tiny pearl buttons, an unexpectedly delicate touch that makes his roughness seem deliberate rather than careless.
“His voice is quick, low, and roughened by salt air, with sudden softening when he addresses the weather stones. He speaks in clipped bursts during danger and long, intricate explanations when discussing machinery.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A branching scar across his left cheek that pales whenever a storm approaches
Copper-thread wrappings fused into the skin of both palms
A missing tip of his right ear, replaced by a small green glass bead
A faint smell of rain on hot stone clinging to him even in dry rooms
One weather stone is always held against his ribs beneath his shirt
Voice
“A restless baritone with a dry rasp, carrying the rhythm of rigging under strain and surf breaking against stone. When he speaks to the weather stones, his voice drops into a warm murmur that makes the surrounding storm seem briefly attentive.”
Clothing
A salt-stiff navy coat patched with sailcloth, a spotless white shirt, high leather boots with copper soles, fingerless fishskin gloves, a red scarf knotted at the throat, and a harness carrying three weather stones in padded metal cages
Body Language
Orrik rarely stands still. His fingers tap changing rhythms against stone, his shoulders angle toward the nearest draft, and his head tilts as though listening beneath the floorboards. When calm, he smiles with one corner of his mouth and studies people openly. When frightened, he becomes rigidly polite, folding his hands over the weather stones as though shielding small animals from a beating.
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