Mara Vey
Commoner
Mara Vey
Species
Human
Appearance
Mara Vey is a compact, weather-toughened Aundairian woman with a broad, capable face and hands permanently roughened by vine bark, barrel hoops, and winter work. She stands with one foot slightly forward and rests her weight against whatever is nearest, not from weakness but from the habit of waiting beside carts, presses, and laden shelves. Her gray-brown eyes rarely settle on the speaker first. They go to the nearest doorway, the condition of a boot, the number of cups on a table, or the angle of a wagon wheel. Her movements are economical and abruptly precise, like someone forever preventing a small problem from becoming an expensive one. The unexpected softness is her hair, which is thick, silvering, and carefully braided with tiny blue glass beads taken from broken wine bottles. She leaves an impression of stern competence until someone notices that she has quietly placed food within reach of everyone in the room.
“Low, clipped, and unhurried. She speaks as though every sentence is a line in a ledger, but her tone softens noticeably when addressing hungry workers, frightened children, or anyone who has made an honest mistake.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
Her eyes survey exits, footwear, containers, and available seating before they meet anyone's gaze.
She wears tiny blue glass beads braided into her silvering hair, each bead cut from a broken wine bottle.
She has a habit of balancing on one foot while waiting, switching sides only when she remembers she is doing it.
Her palms are stained faintly purple even after scrubbing.
She can identify most monastery carts by the sound of their wheels before they come into view.
Voice
“A low contralto with a dry rasp from cellar dust and winter air. Her words land cleanly, with little wasted breath.”
Clothing
A dark russet work dress beneath a sleeveless gray-brown vest, sturdy lace-up boots, a blue kerchief tied at the nape, a leather belt carrying keys and a folding tally board, and a waxed apron stained with grape juice and dust
Body Language
She keeps her weight on the balls of her feet and lightly touches nearby surfaces while thinking. When someone makes a careless claim, she stops moving entirely. When pleased, she taps two fingers against her thumb as if counting invisible coins.
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