Tovanor Zynathra

Tovanor Zynathra salts the seam of every cloak they own with ground iron filings, then mutters the same three syllables before they’ll use a door or a spell. A squat dwarf with braids of gray thread tied into their beard, they keep a chipped obsidian focus on a chain that never stops ticking. When someone bargains, Tovanor asks for payment up front—and writes the contract in ash on the inside of their palm.