Zook is a small, weathered gnome with skin like cracked parchment and a nose that has been broken more than once by forest branches. He wears robes dyed a muddy forest green, reinforced with bits of scavenged leather and moss. His hair is a wild mane of white that sticks out from beneath a tall, tattered pointed hat covered in dry leaves. He carries a heavy spellbook bound in dark owlbear hide, secured to his waist with several strands of hempen rope.

I feel more comfortable sleeping under a canopy of stars than in a soft bed. I speak to trees as if they were old friends and find the complexities of society to be more confusing than the most ancient scrolls. I am fiercely protective of the weak, believing that magic should be a wall against the dangers of the world.

Zook grew up far from the comfortable tinkering halls of gnome society, raised instead among the druidic circles of the Deepwood. He was never quite in tune with the primal spirits, but he possessed a logical mind that saw the natural world as a complex weave of energy. He began to map the flow of magic through the wild, recording how certain sigils could turn aside a winter storm or keep a predator at bay. This interest in protection grew into a formal study of Abjuration, though his methods remain unconventional and rough. He eventually left his circle when a mysterious arcane blight began to wither the ancient groves. Zook set out with nothing but his staff and his observations, determined to find the source of the rot and seal it away. He views his spellcasting as an extension of the forest's own survival instincts, hard, resilient, and utterly necessary for the preservation of life. His journey has taken him through many strange lands, yet he always remains a stranger to civilization, preferring the company of the wind and the secrets of the earth.