Soraya bint-Tariq al-Azraq
Auditor
Soraya bint-Tariq al-Azraq
Species
Air genasi
Appearance
Soraya cuts a sharp, unassuming figure, with pale dust-toned skin that seems almost powdered by the basin's mineral haze. Her slate-gray eyes remain unnervingly still while the rest of her body moves with economical precision. Her dark hair is pinned tightly beneath an administrative cap, yet several loose strands constantly lift as though caught in an invisible current. She walks with the quiet, heel-first caution of someone accustomed to unstable vault floors, never wasting a gesture and never allowing her coat to catch on machinery. The first impression she leaves is of a tired clerk who could vanish into any office. The second is of a hawk wearing spectacles. Unexpectedly, she smells faintly of crushed mint and rain, despite having spent most of her adult life beneath a dry city.
“Low, exact, and measured, with a dry rasp softened by an unexpectedly musical Auran cadence. She pauses before names, as though checking whether each one has been properly recorded.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Loose strands of hair and the edge of her cap drift in a constant invisible breeze
A tiny burn scar shaped like a comma beneath her right ear, caused by a ruptured pressure gauge
Her left glove is stitched with blue thread in the pattern of a branching irrigation canal
She carries herself like a minor clerk, but her eyes track every exit, witness, and document in the room
When angry, fine turquoise dust gathers beneath her fingernails despite her gloves
Voice
“Quiet and authoritative, like a locked office door opening one inch at a time”
Clothing
A tailored slate-gray scribe's coat with reinforced elbows, brass clasps, and hidden archival pockets; a stiff professional administrative cap; dark trousers tucked into durable subterranean boots; thin gray gloves for handling contaminated records; and a narrow turquoise scarf inherited from her mother, usually concealed beneath the coat collar
Body Language
Soraya stands very straight with her hands folded behind her back, as if perpetually posing for an official portrait. When someone lies, one corner of her mouth tightens and the air around her cap stirs. She touches her left cuff whenever a conversation approaches one of her hidden subjects. In private, exhaustion makes her shoulders droop and her fingers tremble slightly over imaginary columns of figures.
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