Elenriel Annanole. That is what she is called by those who would give her a true name. It tends to be a mouthful, however, so for those who cannot handle the grace of the elfen tongue, she simply refers to herself as “Various”.
What is she? Well, an elf at first glance. Most likely a grey elf, however she is certainly atypical. Her silver hair is cut very short (a pixie style, according to the half-ogre who cut it for her). “The better to pursue my studies… long hair has a terrible habit of getting in the way of my text and crossing ls to make them look like ts and the like.” Behind a set of clear goggles, her blue eyes are striking and a flash of purple can be seen within them. Very peculiar, as no grey elf is known to have blue eyes. “Ah, yes, well… they are not my eyes, you see.
They are those of another… a young lass who tags along inside my body as she has lost her own. T’was a dreadful tale, perhaps I’ll tell you of it sometime.”
Her lips and tongue are black, the reason is obvious as she sucks on the end of her quill before jotting a note in the margin of her tome. Her left hand is shrivelled and the skin tone has a slight twinge of grey. “Ah, yes… a run-in with Dispater. I attemted to obtain a sample of his ooze and dropped the vial. The resulting splash caused this. No harm done, really… more of a conversation piece as I see it.” Almost every other inch of skin on her arms, stomach, and legs are covered in writing. “I don’t tend to lose myself as easily as I do a book or piece of parchment, so anything thoroughly important stays on me.” She is short and stout by elf standards. “I’m still taller than a halfling and thinner than a human so that is alright by me.”
Her robes are very worn and tattered and a belt with about eighty different pockets rests on her hips. “To keep better organized, of course.” Dangling from one of the open pockets is a foot-long piece of metal with numerous buttons, levers, and dials. “A rod of wonder, it is. One of my own creations.”
Strapped across her back is a large mirror and a gem sits in the middle of her forehead. A quill rests behind one ear and a wand behind the other. Brightly coloured layered skirts billow from beneath her robes and fabric embroidered with silver thread crosses her chest and ties around her neck. “The traditional festival garb of the Rhennefolk of Oerth. Fascinating people, the Rhenne. They themselves are not from Oerth but from another plane.” Her sky-blue cloak has a strange rune embroidered into it. “Zagyg’s symbol, of course… you know, Zagyg? The man who captured 9 deities and kept them in his basement? That is my dream, of course, to meet him and have him play a joke on me.
A strange contraption that looks like a large wooden box on wheels with a handle attached to it is being pulled by an even more strange creature.”Ah, yes, I call this a Drag-Along. It follows behind me and carries the things that I don’t have enough hands for. ” A child of about three-years old peeks out from the box, in his hand a miniature version of the same rod on Various’ hip. “Ah, yes, little Fireball. An orphan, he was, when the orcs attacked his village.” A basket full of cats are also sitting in there. “Ah, those are my little snuggle-muffins: Sleepy, Grumpy, Dopey, Doc, Bashful, Happy, Sneezy, and Bob. And the driver? Qwerty he is called. He fancies himself a bard. When we meet Zagyg, Qwerty hopes to tap into some of his amazing humor so that he might grow in the ways of comedy. Right now all he does is synthisize.” And with that a strange blipping and blooping can be heard from the box.
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