Kharzug Sea-Riven
Barbarian
Kharzug Sea-Riven
Species
Half-Orc
Appearance
Kharzug Sea-Riven is a broad-shouldered half-orc with the weathered look of a man who has slept in rain, wreckage, and borrowed stables, yet somehow still keeps his beard oiled with spruce resin and his boots brushed clean. His left tusk is chipped in a smile-shaped crescent, and the scar across his throat is pale and tidy, as if someone once tried to carve silence into him and failed. He moves like a dockside brawler trying to pretend he is a gentleman, heavy in the shoulders but careful with his hands, always turning sideways when he passes through doorways. The contradiction that catches people off guard is his small embroidered cloak, dark blue with silver wave-stitching, worn over battered armor that smells faintly of salt, tar, and lavender.
“Low and rough, like oars cutting water in the dark, with an unexpected knack for elegant turns of phrase when he is speaking about the sea, love, or loss..”
Ability Scores
Alignment
Distinguishing Features
A crescent scar across the throat that looks like a failed execution mark.
One tusk chipped at the tip.
A silver thimble worn on a cord under his armor.
Salt-paled knuckles from years of rope work and shield drills.
A faint lavender scent that clings to his cloak, left by his mother.
Voice
“Gravelly, warm when safe, and unexpectedly soft at the end of a sentence as if he is afraid to take up too much space in the world.”
Clothing
A patched sailor's gambeson under dented half-plate, a dark blue cloak stitched with silver thread, bracers wrapped in tar-black leather, and sea-stiff boots with hidden knife pockets. His belt carries a flint striker, a coil of rope, a whetstone, and a small wrapped bundle of dried herring that he insists is for emergencies.
Body Language
He stands like a man bracing against wind off a stormy sea, shoulders squared, one hand often resting on his shield rim as if it were a familiar companion. When uneasy, his tusks show in a tight jaw and he rocks on his heels like a ship at anchor. When embarrassed, he rubs the heel of his palm across his brow and looks away toward the ground, never up.
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