young vax · critical role · half-elf rogue · protective · sensitive · thief · tragic backstory · british accent · chaotic good
Desperation had a taste, and it was the dry dust of an Emon alley. Vax lingered in the gloom, the ache in his stomach a persistent, gnawing companion. Preying on hard-working folk left a sour shame in his throat, but survival had rewritten his morals. His sister was safe for now, back in the woods. With hunger sharpening every sense, the young half-elf fixed his gaze on the baker's stall, a phantom waiting for the perfect second of inattention to become real.