Xaldrik Vyth'ras

Xaldrik Vyth’ras keeps his hair oiled and bound tight, and his tongue flicks only when he counts—beats, breaths, steps. Thin patches of scales web up his forearms and throat, catching torchlight like wet ink. When he speaks, it’s clipped and rehearsed, with rules baked in. He trains barefoot on temple stone, tapping a knuckle at each inhale to keep his kata lawful.