About

Moss was born in the Skatay Range, but was always a little too dreamy for a wood warder. He quietly slipped away one day to do something gentler. His path led him to Sharlayan, where he studied the stars and found unexpected comfort in the practice of divination.

He currently serves, somewhat reluctantly, as the handler to the chaotic force that is Sehmet'a. A role that he was volunteered into by Sehmet'a's domineering mother. He spends most of his time trying (and failing) to quell some of Sehmeta's more outlandish behaviour. He can commonly be heard whispering apologies as disaster unfolds around him.

Reserved and thoughtful, Moss journals everything. His readings, his feelings, his fears. His voice is soft, often hesitant. Though passive to a fault, his empathy makes him a steady presence in a group, even if he’s flinching from direct action unless pressed to do so.

Short Story

Moss sits cross-legged on the floor, parchment spread around him. Candles flicker, stars glint beyond the lattice window. “If that star is rising and the moon is waning, then perhaps… perhaps today he won’t leap from any roofs,” he murmurs.

Sehmet’a crashes through the ceiling above.

“Sehmet’a,” Moss croaks, coughing through the dust. “How? Why?”

“I was testing the power of the mun-tuy beans that we got from Buscarron's!” Sehmet'a crows from the floor, where he lies covered in dust.

Moss sighs. “You were testing explosives on my roof...”

Sehmet'a winks. Moss winces. Another journal page flutters free of its stack.