6'8", 320 lbs., Male Dray.
A huge and imposing figure, though his towering frame seems to be offset by his typically affable, lighthearted demeanor. Like all members of his clan, his scales are a shade of deep blood-red, his eyes a bright golden-yellow. His crest resembles long, thick, ropy dreadlocks which he wears loose and, given the opportunity, decorates with small charms or trinkets. His left hand is always covered in bandages to about halfway up his forearm. He is lightly armored and fights with two heavy nets, each of their nine ends weighted with smooth stones nearly the size of a fist. His fighting style is utterly brutal and sometimes sickening, often finishing off an entangled enemy by breaking its neck or staving in its skull with an elbow, knee, or foot.
He can most often be seen with a cup of foul-smelling broy in his hand and another waiting on the table.
Abraxas was born amongst the insular dray clans, raised in a remote citadel retreat built on an oasis near the Estuary of the Forked Tongue, on the edges of the Great Ivory Plain. At the age of four, he was apprenticed to his esteemed uncle and instructed in the ways of smuggling, mercenary work, and the trade and handling of slaves. He has roamed far and wide working as a mercenary and caravan guard, a slave trader and slave catcher, and during hard times, a brigand and a smuggler, all to bring wealth back to the clan. He has earned himself a reputation for both shrewd negotiation and following contracts to the letter, often employed by nobles, wealthy merchants, and sometimes even templars, though of late he seems to have fallen from favor. A run of bad luck led to his eventual capture at the hands of rival slavers somewhere outside the city of Tyr.