Maya bint-Zahra al-Rimal
Field Scout
Maya bint-Zahra al-Rimal
Species
Human
Appearance
Maya looks as though the desert tried to grind her down and became frustrated when she refused to disappear. Her skin has the matte, sun-baked texture of warm sandstone, crossed by pale scars where grit and falling stone tore through her during the Collapse Gate disaster. Her wide hazel eyes rarely rest on a speaker for long. They flick toward ceilings, doorjambs, loose pebbles, and the soles of nearby boots, constantly measuring the world for movement. Dust-dark hair is tied into a severe field knot, though several stiff strands have worked free and tremble whenever the ground shifts. She moves with a scout's economical precision, keeping her weight low and her steps deliberately soft, yet sudden vibrations make her entire body snap upright like a startled bird. The unexpected contradiction is her hands: callused, scarred, and trained to cut rope or kill quickly, they are exceptionally gentle when turning the pages of her journal or tending an injured animal.
“Low, clipped, and economical. Maya speaks as if every word must fit inside a limited supply of air.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A thin crescent scar runs from her left temple to the corner of her mouth.
Her journal margins are filled with compulsive black spirals, some drawn in ink and others scratched into the leather.
She wears a brass mirror engraved with the names of twelve dead caravan members.
Her left boot contains a small shard of glassy black stone recovered from beneath the Collapse Gate.
She has a habit of placing one palm against walls before passing them.
Voice
“A dry, hushed contralto with a faint rasp, like sand sliding across a clay jar. When frightened, she speaks faster but never louder.”
Clothing
A sand-scoured leather scouting duster hangs to her calves, its lining packed with hidden pockets containing chalk, cord, water tablets, signal cloth, spare flint, and folded route maps. Beneath it she wears a sleeveless linen shirt, wrapped desert trousers, a faded red sash, fingerless climbing gloves, and flexible boots reinforced with layered hide. Every garment is patched neatly, but never cleaned of its oldest dust.
Body Language
Maya keeps her shoulders slightly hunched, as if expecting the ceiling to descend. Her thumb repeatedly rubs the edge of her brass mirror. When calm, she crouches rather than sits. When frightened, she becomes unnaturally still, tilting her head to listen through the soles of her boots.
Turn Maya bint-Zahra al-Rimal into a sheet
A high-res, share-ready sheet you can post or print.
