Mbaraka Coilhand
Cleric, Peace Domain
Mbaraka Coilhand
Species
Tectonic Forged, Deep-Driller
Appearance
Mbaraka is a broad, human-sized construct assembled from white quartzite plates and grey basalt joints. His surfaces are smooth where temple hands have polished them and rough where deep-drilling grit has chewed them raw. Fine copper resonance coils show through narrow seams at his wrists, throat, and ribs, glowing faintly whenever the ground shifts. A steady pale-blue Star-Sand core burns behind a hexagonal opening in his chest, casting cold light across the dust. His hands are unusually large, each fingertip worn into blunt facets by decades of bracing tunnel walls and repairing leyline grates. He moves with deliberate weight, each footfall sounding like a distant hammer strike, yet his gestures during prayer are delicate enough to turn a grain of Star-Sand between two fingers. The contradictory impression is immediate: he looks like a siege engine, but handles fragile objects with a jeweler's care.
“His voice is low, resonant, and slightly delayed, as if each word passes through a stone chamber before reaching the listener. He speaks gently during emergencies and becomes quieter when angry.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A pale-blue Star-Sand core shines steadily through a hexagonal opening in his chest.
Copper resonance coils are visible beneath the seams of his wrists, throat, and ribs.
His fingertips are worn into blunt facets from decades of deep-drilling and structural repair.
He always carries a battered white surveyor's scarf, singed and curled along its left edge.
His footsteps produce a low metallic hum that can be felt through stone before he is seen.
Voice
“A deep, patient baritone with the vibration of distant machinery and a faint metallic overtone.”
Clothing
A sleeveless ash-grey monastic mantle hangs from copper shoulder rings, its hem darkened by soot and melted into stiff ridges. He wears a thick leather tool harness over his torso, a prayer cord of black volcanic glass around one wrist, and a battered white surveyor's scarf wrapped twice around his neck. The scarf is soft from years of handling, but its left edge is singed and permanently curled.
Body Language
Mbaraka stands with his feet planted slightly wider than necessary, as though every room might suddenly tilt. He turns his entire torso toward whoever speaks, never merely his head. When troubled, he presses two fingers against the Star-Sand core in his chest and listens through the vibration. During moments of trust, he lowers himself to one knee so that smaller people can speak to him at eye level.
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