Panniz is a slender wood elf woman with russet-brown skin, long black hair threaded with copper beads, and bright green eyes flecked with gold. A jagged scar crosses her left eyebrow, and her hands are stained with the permanent traces of herbs, charcoal, and bowstring wax. She wears weathered scale mail beneath a moss-green cloak, with a carved antler clasp and a bundle of dried plants hanging from her belt.

Panniz is observant, irreverent, and fiercely self-reliant. She has a dry sense of humor and a habit of treating social customs as curious wildlife behavior. Beneath her aloofness, she is deeply compassionate toward wounded animals, outcasts, and anyone threatened by forces they cannot understand.

Panniz was born beneath the boughs of an ancient forest where her people measured time by the flowering of trees rather than by calendars. She learned to move silently through fern beds, read the tracks of foxes and owls, and recognize the healing properties of nearly every plant within a day’s walk of her home. Though she was never patient with elven ceremony, she possessed an instinctive understanding of the living wilderness and became a capable scout and hunter before reaching adulthood. Her life changed when she found a forgotten shrine buried beneath the roots of a lightning-struck ash tree. Inside, she discovered evidence that a strange blight was spreading through the forest, altering animals and poisoning sacred springs. Panniz withdrew into a remote hut for several years, studying the disease, tending wounded creatures, and recording every sign of its advance. Her solitude ended when the blight reached the edge of her homeland. Now she travels beyond the forest, carrying her notes, bow, and herbal remedies, seeking allies who can help her stop the corruption. She is willing to disregard tradition, authority, and good manners if doing so keeps the wild places alive.