Ravnik stands 6 feet 1 inch tall, and seems to occupy more room than his frame ought to allow. Iridescent copper scales ripple with orange light when he turns, like hammered metal warmed from within; their fine ridges catch dust and lamplight in narrow stripes. His black horns sweep back from his brow in uneven, polished arcs, and amber eyes hold a steady, searching warmth that can turn abruptly to grief. He moves with a trained fighter's economical balance, but his broad tail makes a quiet, unintentional sweep behind him, nudging stools and hems aside. His unexpected softness is a tiny collection of paper moths, carefully folded from prayer scraps and tucked into his armor; he makes a new one whenever he cannot sleep.

Ravnik is decisive in a crisis but uneasy with praise afterward. He jokes easily with workers and children, yet grows formal when speaking to temple elders. He believes rules can protect the vulnerable, but despises using rules to excuse inaction. He is tender with frightened people and impatient with anyone who treats fear as weakness.

Ravnik was raised among the kiln crews of a riverside pottery quarter, where his family repaired flood-damaged homes and taught him to read weather by the smell of clay. At seventeen, a sudden storm broke the old spillway. The temple bell keeper, his mentor, ordered him to hold a sluice gate while she led children to higher ground. Ravnik obeyed, but the gate gave way and the keeper was swept off the ledge. He survived with the children and spent years mistaking survival for proof that he had chosen correctly. He became a Tempest cleric not because he loves storms, but because he refuses to let their power be treated as mindless. He still sends money to the keeper's sister, Nima, a blunt potter who accepts the payments but will not tell him he is forgiven. His closest companion is Oru, a human river pilot who knows Ravnik's routes and his worst habits. Now the city plans to divert the river through the pottery quarter to protect the wealthy hill district. Ravnik is organizing its residents, while the temple elders insist that restraint and patience are the only holy answers.