A broad-shouldered mountain dwarf with weathered copper-brown skin, a blunt nose, gray-green eyes, and a thick russet beard braided with iron rings. His dark hair is cropped close around the sides, and an old scar runs from his left temple to the edge of his jaw. He keeps his armor carefully maintained but visibly repaired, with mismatched buckles and a shield bearing the faded mark of his former company.

Mikko is steady, practical, and quietly protective. He dislikes boasting, waste, and unnecessary cruelty. He speaks plainly, offers useful advice instead of sympathy, and has a dry sense of humor that appears most often when everyone else is exhausted. Though he seems stern at first, he is quick to notice who has gone hungry, who is being ignored, and which door has not been properly secured.

Mikko Vask was born beneath a mountain pass where every household knew the sound of avalanches and marching boots. His family worked metal for the garrison, repairing helmets, hinges, and battered axe heads. Mikko was expected to become a smith, but he preferred the practical certainty of a shield wall. He enlisted young, served as a caravan guard and tunnel patrolman, and earned his rank by holding a collapsed gate long enough for civilians to escape during a goblin raid. The company survived, but its commander did not. Mikko carried the officer's dented insignia home and discovered that the raid had been allowed to happen by merchants who wanted the pass abandoned. Rather than accept a quiet discharge and a comfortable forge, he left the mountains to find proof of the betrayal. He now travels as a sellsword and investigator, taking honest work wherever he can find it. He is patient with frightened people, suspicious of polished uniforms, and entirely unwilling to leave a companion behind, even when doing so would be wiser.