A wiry goblin with moss-green skin, sharp amber eyes, and a perpetually alert stare. Ajax keeps his dark hair cropped short for easy disguise work, and wears a weathered leather coat with hidden pockets, a faded scarf, and soft boots built for silent running. He carries himself like a cornered animal that learned to smile first.

Ajax is sharp-tongued, fast-thinking, and stubbornly compassionate toward anyone else scraping by at the edge of survival. He jokes to control the mood of a room, but he rarely lets anyone get close enough to see how deeply he fears being abandoned. He values competence, honesty in action if not in words, and a promised favor more than flattery.

Ajax was born in a broken den of gutter-homes and hungry mouths, where every scrap of food had to be stolen, lied for, or fought over. He learned early that sympathy could be a trap and kindness could vanish the moment someone wanted payment. By the time he could run, he was already a pickpocket, by the time he could talk convincingly, he was already selling false names and fake promises to anyone desperate enough to listen. Survival taught him how to be quick, and betrayal taught him never to stand still for long. As he grew older, Ajax discovered that his talent was not only stealing coins, but stealing assumptions. A small goblin in the right coat, with the right papers and the right smile, could walk through doors meant for richer, better-born folk. He built a life out of borrowed faces and forged stories, always staying one step ahead of the people who might recognize the boy who used to sleep under crates. Now he robs the cruel, cheats the greedy, and keeps an iron grip on his secrets. He helps the underdog when he can, but trust does not come easily to him, and every friendship is tested like a lock he expects to find trapped.