Therin Gold-Spur
Rogue, Mastermind
Therin Gold-Spur
Species
Half-Dragon, Brass Draconic Ancestry
Appearance
Therin is a broad-shouldered half-dragon whose gleaming brass scales deepen to dark tan along his jaw, elbows, and knuckles. His movements are unexpectedly quiet for his size. He walks with a slight forward lean, as if perpetually entering a negotiation already in progress, and his long tail makes small corrective sweeps behind him whenever he is calculating. His hands draw attention within moments: the claws are carefully blunted and polished, the fingertips darkened by sealing wax, graphite, and fine brass dust, while the palms are callused from years of weighing cargo and handling ledgers. His expression is warm enough to invite trust, yet his stillness during a lie is more unsettling than any glare. The contradictory impression is unmistakable: he looks built for a foundry floor, but moves like a patient stage magician.
“His voice is low, warm, and carefully paced, with a faint rasp like paper sliding over metal. He pronounces names flawlessly, softens insults into courteous observations, and becomes almost whisper-quiet when discussing information that could get someone killed.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
His polished claws leave faint crescent marks in sealing wax and soft wood.
A thin line of pale brass scales runs from his left temple to the base of his neck, catching light when he turns.
His tail makes tiny balancing motions while he thinks, like a counterweight on a scale.
He carries a brass staff whose two hanging pans remain level even when he is walking.
He can recite the last seven years of Ash-Terrace Junction's major caravan arrivals from memory.
Voice
“Warm baritone with a polished rasp, friendly enough for a market greeting and quiet enough to make a confession feel like a private contract.”
Clothing
A fur-trimmed traveling coat of smoke-brown wool hangs over polished ring mail fitted with dark leather straps. Brass clasps shaped like balanced scales secure the coat at the throat. His boots are ash-proof and reinforced at the toes, and every pocket has a practical purpose: wax, chalk, folded manifests, spare seals, a whetstone, or emergency coin.
Body Language
Therin keeps one hand near the balance-scale staff and the other resting lightly over his signet press. His tail marks the cadence of his thoughts. When genuinely angry, every motion stops except for the slow tightening of his clawed fingers around a piece of sealing wax.
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