A lean young tiefling with soot-dark crimson skin, swept-back black horns, and amber eyes that catch firelight like glass. They wear a patched leather coat over scavenged dark clothes, with a copper charm, fingerless gloves, and a narrow grin that looks equal parts daring and defensive. A faintly glowing infernal sigil sits near one wrist, usually hidden beneath wraps.

Quick-witted, suspicious, and stubbornly self-reliant, Vex treats every room like it might turn hostile at any moment. They are a scavenger of opportunities, but they have a secret habit of helping the desperate before anyone notices, then pretending it was only practical. They laugh easily, especially at danger, and dislike owing anyone a debt they cannot repay on their own terms.

No one in the lower districts remembered the tiefling child with the bright eyes and too-sharp teeth as anything but a problem. The gutters taught them where to sleep without being kicked awake, which stalls left their fruit unattended, and how to smile like they belonged anywhere at all. They learned early that hunger was a louder teacher than kindness, and that a quick hand, quick feet, and quicker lies could turn a bad night into a survivable one. The pact came later, after a winter too cruel for even the city to pretend it cared. Cornered by debt, cold, and a gang that wanted to make an example of them, they answered a whisper in the dark. Something ancient and amused took notice of the tiefling's stubborn spark, and in exchange for a promise they barely understood, the gutters filled with borrowed power. Now they slip through alleys like a rumor, taking jobs, secrets, and small revenge where they can, all while wondering whether the voice in their head is a savior, a jailer, or simply the first thing in their life that ever called them useful.