Vaelira moves with an uncanny grace, the smooth arcs of her motion belying the jagged history written into her very flesh. Her left arm is missing below the elbow, replaced by a finely crafted mechanical prosthetic covered in shifting runes and gleaming brass plates that glow faintly with arcane energy. Her skin is a deep, smoldering crimson, but patches around her jawline and neck fade to a soft, almost porcelain white—an unusual tiefling trait said to be the mark of her cursed lineage. Her hair is a cascade of raven black, braided tightly down her back with strands of silver filigree wire woven in, clinking softly as she moves. Her eyes are a liquid, obsidian black punctuated by gold flecks that flash unpredictably when she concentrates or becomes agitated. At a modest height of 5'6", she has a slender but sinewy build, arms lean but toned. She wears a mix of leather apron and arcane cloth robes covered in pockets, straps, and holsters for tools and gadgets. A permanent wisp of faint, oily smoke curls from a tiny hooded forge that hangs at her waist—a contradiction to her otherwise clean and precise appearance.