Tzephira Frol'koth

Tzephira Frol’koth keeps her domed shell scabbed with dried brine and wax-sealed charms, each one stamped with a salt-black sigil she refuses to explain. She wears a short leather harness over scale, fitted with tinkling vials of ground star-salt that rattle when she casts. After a reef-witch drowned her crew’s prayers, she bargained in a whisper and now talks back to whispers—quietly, through her gritted beak.