Nymora Tezrak

Nymora Tezrak keeps her githyanki war regalia half-buckled, as if she might sprint out of her skin at any second—silver pauldrons etched with claw marks, red cords knotted to keep blade-sheaths quiet. In camp she calibrates her crossbow by tapping the same tooth on the crank each time, counting breaths, not minutes. Her neutral-good aim shows in what she spares: captives bound with tight, neat knots and a written route back to safety.