Kethar Nyyxil

Kethar Nyyxil keeps his head bowed so his black feathers dust the floor when he kneels. His raven beak clicks softly as he counts breaths on his clawed fingers, then he shouts only borrowed phrases he “found” in tavern brawls. In a fight he tanks blows on purpose, pinning arms with precise kicks. When quiet returns, he polishes a flat brass token stamped with rules he swears he didn’t write.