Varisark Sarkesh
Wizard, Abjuration, 16 / Fighter, Eldritch Knight, 4
Varisark Sarkesh
Species
Copper Dragonborn
Appearance
Varisark is a tall copper dragonborn whose burnished scales show fine green patination around the joints, as though time itself has begun to write on him. Desert light slides across his ridged brow and narrow muzzle in warm flashes, while the small scales along his forearms rasp softly against the silk of his sleeves when he moves. He walks with the measured balance of someone crossing a rope bridge in high wind, never hurried, never quite still. His robes smell faintly of hot copper, cedar oil, and dust after rain. The unexpected softness of his appearance is his broad, expressive mouth, which can make his most merciless judgments look almost kindly spoken.
“Soft, deliberate, and perfectly projected. His voice carries the rounded resonance of a canyon bell struck beneath open sky, with each sentence shaped to sound both courteous and final.”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A weathered copper signet is always worn on a cord beneath his robes, its lower edge polished smooth by years of rubbing against his sternum.
His breath carries the sharp scent of vinegar and sun-warmed stone after he has used his acid breath.
The left horn bears a tiny brass ring engraved with the names of seven people saved during the Red Echo Ravine collapse.
His ceremonial staff contains a hollow chamber filled with red desert sand, which shifts audibly whenever he changes stance.
His smile is unexpectedly gentle, making his coldest verdicts difficult to read until the last word.
Voice
“A low, resonant baritone with a dry warmth, carrying the faint scrape of copper scales and the controlled patience of someone accustomed to being obeyed.”
Clothing
Structured robes of deep terracotta red and ochre silk, lined with hidden plates of rune-etched defensive steel. A heavy collar of interlocking copper links rests against his throat, and his ceremonial staff is wrapped in faded red cord where countless nervous hands have gripped it before him.
Body Language
Varisark holds his hands loosely over the pommel of his staff, thumbs touching in a small copper triangle. His chin lowers by a fraction when someone lies. When genuinely moved, he turns his head toward the nearest wall, listening to the room's echo instead of looking at the speaker.
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