Maren is a compact rock gnome with a weathered, clever face and the deceptively sturdy posture of someone accustomed to standing beside industrial machinery for twelve-hour shifts. Silver threads cut through her dark hair, which is pulled into a practical, ink-stained bun secured with a copper gearpin. Her steel-gray eyes are sharp behind wire-rimmed spectacles, and the lenses occasionally display tiny scrolling lines of diagnostic script. Her hands are small, scarred, and permanently darkened around the fingernails by memory-reactive ink. She moves with quick, economical steps, often stopping so abruptly that her coat continues to sway around her. The unexpected contradiction is that she smells faintly of lavender soap and warm bread, despite spending most of her life in the soot-choked Smoldering Vaults.