Zarwolo Townsend

ZT
4
LVL

Cleric

Zarwolo Townsend

Level 4·Female·Small
Neutral Good

Species

Aasimar

Appearance

Zarwolo Townsend is a petite Aasimar with the stillness of a person who has spent too many nights listening for arrows in the dark. Her light skin has a faint pearlescent sheen in torchlight, as though moonmilk lives just beneath the surface. Thick white hair spills from beneath a deep hood in soft, unkempt waves, but one side is always neatly braided with black thread and tiny votive beads. Her dark blue eyes are unusually steady, nearly unsettling, and seem to measure the pulse of a room before she speaks. She wears long 12th century Slavic robes in cerulean blue and black, layered with worn wool, lacquered leather tabs, and silver-stitched prayer hems. The robes are immaculate in places and scorched in others, as if she has mended them after battle too many times to count. Unexpectedly, beneath the severity of her vestments, she keeps a bright red silk scarf tied around one wrist like a child’s lucky ribbon.

Height5 ft 1 in
BuildPetite and narrow-shouldered, with a compact endurance that suggests hard travel rather than delicacy.
EyesDark blue
HairWhite
SkinLight with a pearly celestial sheen

Low, careful, and precise, with a faint liturgical cadence. She speaks as if every word should survive an autopsy.”

Ability Scores

STR
10+0
DEX
12+1
CON
14+2
INT
10+0
WIS
16+3
CHA
12+1

Alignment

Good
Lawful
Chaotic
EvilNeutral Good

Distinguishing Features

A faint halo-scar of gold beneath the left collarbone, visible only when she channels divine power.

One gloved hand stained permanently blue-black by holy ink and grave soot.

A narrow white braid threaded with black beads and a single silver icon.

A tiny burn mark at the corner of her mouth from a battlefield censer explosion.

Voice

Soft, hushed, and grave, with sudden clarity when issuing orders or prayers.

Clothing

Layered cerulean and black Slavic robes with a hood, a weatherproof stole, prayer beads, soft leather boots, and a belt hung with bandages, wax seals, and a small iron censer.

Body Language

She moves in compact, careful steps, as if conserving strength for the next emergency. Her shoulders are usually slightly bowed, but when she senses dishonesty they rise like a drawn blade. She keeps her hands folded unless healing or warning someone, at which point her gestures become precise and economical.

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