Her dark hair is a little greasy from infrequent washing and smells faintly of decay. Somewhat self-conscious of this, she wears a sandalwood perfume and has taken up smoking with her evening drink at the local tavern, The Tiny Hag. Vyeden’s piercing blue eyes reveal remarkable intelligence, and if there was any doubt, she quickly demonstrates her deep knowledge on a variety of subjects – from the chemical make-up of ales or poisons, to the anatomical workings of the body and how she knows your aches just by looking at you. Sadly, this does not get her the attention she seeks from fickle male travelers passing through Caliphas or local drunken workers exhausted from a day’s work. She longs for a poet in her life, to give light to her subterranean existence.