Mara Veyl
Cleric
Mara Veyl
Species
Human
Appearance
Mara Veyl stands in three-quarter view with the rigid stillness of someone listening for a sound beneath the world. Her weathered yet unblemished ivory skin catches candlelight warmly, while cool moonlight lays a pale rim along her cheek and shoulder. Her large bright-blue eyes are startlingly clear, almost fever-bright, and seem to reflect points of light that are not present. Raven-black hair falls in a straight, tousled curtain around her face, with one narrow lock permanently silvered from root to tip. Her movements are economical and quiet, but when startled she turns with the sudden, birdlike precision of an owl. The unexpected contradiction is her hands: broad-palmed, scarred, and work-hardened like a gravedigger's, despite the delicacy of her face and clerical bearing.
“Low, precise, and unhurried, with a soft northern accent. Her words often seem to arrive after the silence has already made room for them.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A narrow silver streak runs through her otherwise raven-black hair.
Her irises contain tiny crescent-shaped flecks visible in bright light.
Her palms are marked by old shovel blisters and pale ritual burns.
She wears a moon amulet whose surface is warm even in winter.
A faint scent of extinguished candles follows her into enclosed rooms.
Voice
“A low, clear contralto with a faint rasp, like a chapel bell heard through rain.”
Clothing
White and light-grey hooded clerical robes with broad sleeves, a high collar, layered wool panels, and nearly invisible silver crescent embroidery along the hems. Beneath the robes she wears a fitted chain shirt. A weathered leather belt carries a mace, healer's kit, candles, and a small iron shovel. Her sturdy black boots are cracked at the toes and stained with cemetery soil. A small silver moon amulet rests at her throat.
Body Language
Mara keeps her shoulders slightly turned toward the nearest exit and rests two fingers against her moon amulet when listening. She rarely blinks during an argument. When compassion overtakes suspicion, her posture softens all at once, like a candle flame bending in a draft.
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