Bouncing, bumbling, frenetic glee; everything's great when you're three-foot-three! Yes, Vrask is a goblin, both small and thin, with a head like a pumpkin and ugly green skin. His ears are large, and floppy most days, but they perk up whenever he sees something headed his way. He grins, he cheers, he smiles quite a lot! Too bad it's always part of a plot. Because he's greedy, and mean, and a bully at that; happy to steal, to rape, to fight and to chat.

And what about when he's not concocting superfluous rhythms? Well, he's still just a goblin, with those beady red eyes. A goblin, yes, but lacking a tribe, wearing stolen gnome clothes, holstering claws and a shiv at his side.
He has fetishes fashioned from bones and from hides, plus jewelry and trinkets too large for his size. Frankly, he's silly; an eating machine with a fondness for treats both salty and sweet. He's a scavenger, a thief, but he cares not a wit, unless something is shiny and soon to be his. And what are his methods, if given a choice? Why, it's drugs and traps and poisons and more! Because he's a goblin, and a good one at that, a goblin who cares for himself and that's that.

... Also, he likes to start fires.