Varyneth Kel'zhari

Varyneth Kel’zhari keeps a rune-slate strapped to their forearm, scraped clean after every shrine stop. A gaunt githzerai in salt-stained travel leathers, they wear braided ashwood beads and a hood lined with torn map parchment, all tattooed with quiet circles that flare when they’re calm. In taverns they trade jokes for seed packets. When someone lies about “protecting” the wild, Varyneth counts their steps, then pulls roots up between truth and feet.