Marax wears simple, travel-stained robes dyed a dark blue, strung with shells, sea glass, and small figurines of carved drift wood; similar trinkets are braided into his long blond hair, and a single, living starfish constantly clings to his face around one eye yellow eye. His skin is very faintly blue, and small ridges that appear to be gills line his neck. A holy symbol of Gozreh has been tied along the length of the large, wicked-looking trident he carries, and an elaborate tattoo of a trident rising from the water, ringing in waves, decorates his left forearm.
Marax usually keeps to himself, and his manner is usually to-the-point and terse. He disapproves of excess, and while not quite an acetic, prefers simple living. The only time when he grows animated is when fighting demons or insisting on the foulness of chaos. All in all, a terrible dinner party guest.
Marax did not ask to be sent to a desert, did not ask to be surrounded with chaotic bards and self-righteous paladins, but it is not his place to question the orders of his god.
Since his physical appearance usually left him on the outs with the humans he was raised with, Marax turned to region and the worship of law in all its forms early, seeing it as the true path to equality—something he sorely lacked growing up “strange.” Not given to working in groups, his divine mission usually involved the covert work of seeking out and destroying upstart demonic cults. Since few equate the worship of Gozreh with a lawful agenda, he remains mostly below notice.
After over a decade of putting down demon-worshipers mostly on his own, he hasn’t taken well to working with a group, but tries his best anyhow. Bringing even a shred of order into a place such as Tsar is a daunting task, but Marax is nothing if not faithful and soldiers on regardless.