Dralrorin Xyrivys

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Warden Witness

Dralrorin Xyrivys

0·Male·Medium
Lawful Neutral

Species

Gateborn Elf

Appearance

Dralrorin is a narrow, spare man who seems assembled from winter light and old regrets. His skin has the waxy gray cast of someone who spends too long beneath torch smoke and moonless skies. His dark hair is shot through with iron-white strands and usually braided tight against his scalp, though one stubborn lock always escapes near his left temple. He moves with a careful, listening stillness, as if every step is negotiated with the floor before he trusts it. The strangest thing about him is the warmth he gives off, faint and living, despite the cold silver ring he wears on a chain at his throat and the frost-burn scars along his forearms.

Height5 ft 11 in
BuildLean and wiry, with a scholar's endurance and a watchman's coiled tension.
EyesPale hazel with a faint gold ring around the pupils
HairBlack shot through with iron-white strands
SkinAsh-pale with a faint silver undertone

Soft, deliberate, and formal, with the cadence of someone reading depositions aloud. He pauses before important names, as if honoring them, and rarely raises his voice unless a threshold has been crossed or a lie has been spoken.”

Ability Scores

STR
8-1
DEX
16+3
CON
12+1
INT
14+2
WIS
18+4
CHA
12+1

Alignment

Good
Lawful
Chaotic
EvilLawful Neutral

Distinguishing Features

A silver witness ring fused to a chain at his throat, never removed.

Frost-burn scars that spiral over his left forearm like pale roots.

One iris is faintly clouded, as if it has looked too long at a rift.

He carries a lantern with black glass panes that never quite reflects flame correctly.

Voice

Low, controlled, and unexpectedly warm when he is being honest. It tightens into a brittle whisper when the breach is discussed, as though he is afraid of naming the wound too loudly.

Clothing

A soot-black longcoat lined with dull red thread, reinforced gloves with cut fingertips, a high collar that hides the silver chain at his throat, and weather-stiff boots marked by old ash. In battle he adds a cracked half-cape of warded leather that looks heavier than it is.

Body Language

Still and contained, with hands folded behind his back when thinking. When alarmed, he tilts his head as if listening to a sound no one else can hear. He avoids sudden gestures, but when he does move, it is precise and surprisingly swift.

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