You see Cariuwyn Danatal'i, an Elven Bard.
She has pointed ears and wide-set blue-green eyes. Her russet hair is very long and straight, and is worn tied back. She has translucent skin and a lithe figure.
She is wearing a pale hide cowl lined with steelsilk, a slender silver txistu tipped with a white jade geshiloira-shaped mouthpiece, an enveloping cashmere mantle dyed the pale hue of winter cream, an exquisitely carved dark flamewood sword case with Elven silver clasps, an oiled leather instrument case stitched with a small circular badge, a supple suede satchel with tightly-braided steelsilk laces, a swirling ring of Elven silver set with a cluster of crimson rubies, an albredine crystal ring and some soft grey suede boots side-laced with steelsilk ribbons.
Cariu was born into a clan of Snow Elves in the icy reaches of the Gash, in a small, unimportant village whose residents negligently owe allegiance to Ilithi, fight for Leth Deriel, and observe the Mountain Queen with a certain amount of distrust and suspicion. Her parents are crafters and hunters.
Long rumored by outsiders to be harsh, contemptuous and reserved, a well-known work described the Snow Elves as "living short and cruel lives, with little room for art and love." However, a witty and curious scribe named Simon Bright was one of lucky few outsiders who befriended the Snow Elves, and he wrote of them, "inside their central hold among their own kin, they live in stark contrast to the perceptions of the outside world. They lead comfortable but simple lives. They surround themselves in the colors of spring and abundant texture, celebrating the joys of life and the arts."
Like a tightly-knit family, they turn their faces inward during their long lives, honing their skills in art, hunting and crafts to perfection. Their harsh environment ensures they cannot become lazy or petty; they remain strong in their ability to survive and must depend upon each other. Friendships under these circumstances are not made lightly, and sworn loyalty is a serious matter. From this perspective, the petty squabbles and complaints of townsmen often seems childish, which perhaps explains their reputation for reserve.
Reserve and dry humor provide cover for Cariu's old-fashioned ways, which tend to have little place in the savage cities. She regularly hunts for friends who would rather sample different whiskeys than bash in heads, but she's certainly willing to smart off and get her own head bashed in, if that's what it takes to meet interesting people. Her strong sense of irony and sharp tongue provide excellent cover for the tender soul of an insensitive curmudgeon.
Having wanted to be a Bard her entire life, Cariu's love of writing and history gives her a certain amount of nerdy lorerage, especially when she gets her facts wrong. Her scholarly world is full of complex ideas, where the smallest action may be nuanced with meaning and ancient lore, when it's not muddled by strong drink. Her seemingly aimless chatter has driven off more than one hapless adventurer who was trapped by their own politeness into a conversation with her.
In her travels, she tends to view townsmen as full of raging hysteria and in dire need of some decent psychoanalysis at $125 per hour, possibly since they all seem to have been orphaned at birth. She'd far rather enjoy good conversation and a fine whiskey with clever, informed people, but Cariu's shattered awareness of being a total misfit leads her to wander the streets of the Crossing, muttering imprecations and reminiscing about "the good old days." She has strong opinions and isn't shy about sharing them, but fortunately her only willing audience is the voices in her head.
Yet, curiosity about the world, a love of lore and an unexplained desire to be otherwise keeps bringing her out of her mountain home. She currently spends most of her time exploring the lands, visiting libraries and hunting small kittens.