Zyvoris Quolthae

Zyvoris Quolthae keeps their ears ringed with thin iron bands, each stamped with a jail number from some court ledger. A pale-grey harengon with twitchy whiskers and a short, fluff-bright tail, they carry a dented longspear-and-shield rig that smells of wet stone and lamp oil. In battle, they speak every order as a sentence of punishment, then tally the fallen on chalked slates like accounts due.