A lean, weathered human woman with olive skin, close-cropped dark brown hair, and gray-green eyes that constantly scan the room. A pale scar crosses her left eyebrow, and an old burn mark circles her right wrist. She wears well-maintained chain mail beneath a faded blue surcoat, carries a battered shield marked with a silver tower, and keeps her military insignia sewn inside her collar rather than displayed openly.

Reserved and observant, Mara speaks plainly and dislikes boasting. She is patient with frightened civilians, unexpectedly gentle with animals, and fiercely protective of anyone who proves reliable. In conversation, she often asks practical questions before discussing feelings.

Mara Vey was raised in a frontier garrison where the sound of marching boots was as familiar as church bells. As a human child among soldiers, quartermasters, and camp followers, she learned early that courage was useful, but discipline kept people alive. She joined the army at seventeen, not from patriotic fervor, but because the people she loved needed someone willing to stand between them and the dangers beyond the walls. Her quiet competence earned her the nickname Graywall, after the old fortress where she served through three hard campaigns. During her final campaign, Mara's unit was ordered to hold a mountain pass long after their supplies and reinforcements had failed to arrive. Her commander abandoned the position, leaving the wounded behind. Mara disobeyed orders, organized a retreat, and carried the unit's standard through the snow while enemy raiders closed in. Most of her soldiers survived, but the official report blamed her for the loss of the pass. She left the army with her rank intact but her trust in command shattered. Now she travels as a sellsword and protector, seeking honest causes, dependable companions, and the truth behind the disappearance of the officer who betrayed her.