A lean wood elf with weathered olive skin, cropped dark brown hair, and pale green eyes that rarely hold still. Their pointed ears are decorated with small copper rings and bits of carved birch. They wear patched leather armor beneath a moss-colored traveling cloak, carrying a round wooden shield painted with a crude white hare. Their hands are stained with berry juice, ink, and soil, and their expression is usually watchful, amused, or one heartbeat away from a lie.

I am quick-witted, observant, and unfailingly polite until someone tries to exploit the weak. I prefer a clever distraction to a direct confrontation, but I become unexpectedly stubborn when protecting a person, animal, or place that cannot defend itself.

Vek grew up among a scattered wood elf settlement that survived by knowing which paths were safe, which streams ran clean, and which strangers should never be trusted. Their mother taught them the names of healing plants, while their uncle taught them how easily a frightened traveler could be persuaded to buy worthless charms. Vek became good at both arts. They learned that a convincing smile could open a gate, while a well-chosen leaf could keep someone alive long enough to reach the next village. Their life changed after a traveling merchant accused Vek's family of stealing a relic from an old woodland shrine. The accusation was false, but the merchant had money, witnesses, and forged records. Vek escaped with the shrine's damaged wooden focus and spent years moving from town to town under borrowed names, exposing frauds and quietly helping those cheated by them. The forest spirits did not answer their prayers at first. Eventually, after Vek returned the relic to the shrine and admitted every lie they had ever told, the whisper of Druidic came to them through the leaves. Now they travel as a healer, con artist, and reluctant investigator, searching for the merchant who ruined their home while trying not to become the kind of deceiver they hate.