Not Tea Leaf is a small, wiry goblin with sharp eyes and quick hands, clearly built for errands rather than fights. His yellow-green skin is smudged with soot and street grime, and his ears twitch constantly, still trained to listen for shouted instructions or magical mishaps.

He wears the remnants of a wizard’s apprentice outfit: a once-proper robe cut short and patched into a hooded cloak, layered over worn leather and soft boots meant for quiet movement. The fabric is singed and threadbare, smelling faintly of ink and old spell components. His belt and sleeves are stuffed with pouches—chalk, vials, bits of wire, and tools repurposed for survival.

A cracked arcane focus hangs at his neck, useless but cherished. Altogether, he looks like a wizard’s helper who lost his master and had to learn fast how to live without magic—or permission.