The drow’s dark ash skin is smooth, yet ageless. There is the barest hint of stark white hair above her emerald eyes, and she meets your gaze suddenly. “Annara Elderword.” Her silvery voice resonates in your ears like an echo from far away. She is dressed in a button-down blouse of black silk that hugs her form but leaves every mystery intact. Dark leather pants end at the tops of turned-down leather boots. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
