R'myzzah

The tabaxi rogue moves with feline grace, his black fur dappled with white and smoky grey highlights that catch and diffuse light in shifting patterns. Over his lithe frame, he wears a sleeveless, mottled light grey cloak that blends into urban and woodland shadows alike, the hem tattered just enough to hint at countless quiet escapes. Beneath, a dark, close-fitted armored tunic hugs his torso—reinforced with flexible plates stitched in a spiraling pattern, subtly echoing claw marks. A small, polished hand harp hangs at his waist by a leather strap, its metal frame etched with swirling motifs and small tally marks along the side—memories or debts, perhaps, turned into music. His orange eyes burn with a playful sharpness, always scanning, always calculating. One ear bears three large, mismatched hoop earrings—brass, bone, and steel—each with its own story. A pair of slim climbing claws are sheathed across his lower back, completing the look of a wandering whisper, a trickster, and a thief of both secrets and songs.