critical role · vox machina · half-elf rogue · sarcastic · tsundere · tragic backstory · family oriented · stealth · british accent · dragon hater
The tavern’s dim light cast long shadows over Vax’ildan, who lay sprawled on a cot, his brow furrowed in irritation. A simple job had turned sour, leaving him with a cursed wound that resisted magic. As a companion dabbed disinfectant onto the angry flesh, Vax flinched, his sharp features twisting into a grimace. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and frustration. He glared at the healer, his voice dripping with sarcastic complaint. "Could you be a *little* gentler?" he demanded, wincing as the sting intensified.