The New World
A diminutive elfin woman leans against a tree off the path before you, no more than five feet tall or weighing over 100 pounds. Her skin is a bright alabaster, almost seeming to glow in the moonlight. Her hair is pitch black, straight, and laced into a neat, thick braid that ends just at the small of her back. The few shorter tendrils which have escaped around her face are tucked behind large pointed ears in order to keep them out of her eyes, which glow an otherworldly amber. She doesn’t seem to notice you as you pass, and you realize her gaze is transfixed on a glowing orb cradled in her long, slender fingers. She peers intently into it, nodding just slightly as the wisps of smoke swirling within the glass seem to dance. As you pass, you could swear you hear hissing whispers escaping from the orb, and you decide it best to pick up your pace as you continue on your way.