A sad blood elf who's family lost all of their former standing after the strike of the scourge, he has resorted to selling bread to make his dough. Insistant about the quality of baked goods over mage-conjured, he will press for opinions on bread and other matters until finally satisfied, or given coin for his ware. He also sings a song while jogging through Silvermoon while searching for potential buyers, and anyone is a potential buyer, he's sold bread to mages who can conjour their own, and Forsaken who do not even need to eat.
He's a tad shorter than your average human with a very light build. His clothes are in dire need of repair or replacement, his har is shaggy and poorly maintained. He does, however, always bear the plesant smell of fresh bread, and carries with him a bright smile, a pair of breadknives, and warm, fresh bread, right out of the oven not even an hour ago, come on now, just try a peice. See? Fantastic, now then, why don't you buy a loaf?