Miritha stands just under six feet, with slender elven features softened by an expressive human smile. Her olive skin has a fine spattering of silvery freckles along her cheeks and brow (a remnant of a youthful magical accident), and her black hair falls in an unruly, asymmetrical cut—one side long and sleek, the other almost shaved to the scalp and inked with swirling arcane script. Her eyes are an unusual stormy gray, flicking between sharp calculation and distant daydream. She wears enchanted gloves and colorful patchwork robes stitched from once-elegant fabrics, with extravagant cuffs and one sleeve perpetually rolled up, revealing a tinker’s toolkit strapped to her arm. Despite a dignified bearing, she often limps slightly on her right leg, favoring comfort over poise.