Elowen looks like a piece of driftwood come to life. Her skin is deeply etched with wrinkles that mirror the bark of the trees she lives among. Her hands are the most striking part of her. Her fingers and palms are permanently stained a dark, bruised indigo from years of handling Moonshade Nightshade. Her hair is a chaotic, bird-nest tangle of white unspun wool, filled with dried leaves and tiny twigs. Unexpectedly, her teeth are perfectly white and healthy, a jarring contrast to her otherwise weathered and decaying appearance. She moves with a jerky, bird-like twitchiness, even while hanging suspended in spider silk.

Elowen is a paradox of maternal instinct and feral paranoia. She speaks to the plants with a gentle, crooning voice, treating every thorn bush like a wounded child, yet she views any humanoid who approaches her as a demonic manifestation of the forest fog. Her mind is a fractured mirror; she can recite complex alchemical formulas with perfect clarity one moment and then completely forget her own name the next. She is desperately lonely but terrified of the touch of another living person.

Once the respected midwife of Oakhaven, Elowen lost everything when a Shadowfell rift opened within the village grove. While the other villagers fled, she stayed behind, convinced she could 'heal' the rift like a wound. Decades of exposure to the rift's energies and the local Fog-Madness have eroded her sanity. She has lived in the dangerous forest alone for twenty years, surviving by eating bitter fungi and avoiding the predatory horrors by mimicking their scents. She was recently captured by a Giant Spider while trying to 'soothe' its eggs.