Tova Rauk
Master Assayer, custom expert administrator
Tova Rauk
Species
Mountain Dwarf
Appearance
Tova Rauk is a compact dwarf woman with a square, weathered face and the stillness of someone who has spent decades listening for cave-ins. Her skin is deep umber, powdered at the temples with silver assay dust that never quite washes away. One eyebrow bears a pale burn scar shaped like a branching vein. Her hands are broad and precise, with short nails, blackened fingertips, and a permanent iridescent sheen caught in the creases of her knuckles. She moves economically, never wasting a gesture, yet her immaculate posture conceals a slight limp from an old shaft collapse. Her expression is severe enough to make clerks sit straighter, but when startled she laughs in a warm, booming burst that seems entirely wrong for her controlled presence.
“Her voice is low, dry, and resonant, with the rough edge of someone accustomed to shouting over drills and ore crushers. She speaks in clipped, carefully weighted sentences, pausing before figures, names, and accusations.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A branching pale burn scar over her left eyebrow
Permanent silver-iridescent Star-Sand residue in the lines of her hands
A measured limp caused by a collapsed assay tunnel
A tiny brass survey drone that circles her shoulder when she is thinking
A warm, startling laugh that contradicts her severe professional demeanor
Voice
“A low contralto with a furnace-warm resonance, clipped diction, and occasional northern inflections that surface when she is exhausted or furious.”
Clothing
A charcoal-gray waistcoat and long split coat tailored over a hidden layer of steel mesh. The garments have copper thread at the seams, reinforced shoulder panels, narrow pockets for samples, and a high collar fastened by a square Star-Sand clasp. Her boots are miner's boots polished to a bureaucrat's standard, though their soles remain scored by basalt grit.
Body Language
Tova stands with her feet planted wide for stability, one hand often resting on her assay hammer and the other hovering near a pocket ledger. She tilts her head toward machinery as if hearing its stress through the floor. In private, fatigue shows through a clenched jaw, a thumb rubbing the old burn scar on her brow, and brief glances toward anyone young enough to remind her of her cousin.
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