Eldra stands at just under five and a half feet, her frame stooped by decades of Frostveil’s bitter winters, yet she moves with unexpected swiftness and an air of command. Her auburn-gray hair, braided tight against her scalp, disappears into layered, worn furs, each emblazoned with the intricate snowflake sigil of the Frostveil council. Her skin, rough as birch bark and weathered by biting wind, is marked by an old, jagged scar running from her left cheekbone to her jaw. Her gloved hands are ink-stained and bear silver rings inscribed with council oaths. Yet, her most striking feature remains her ice-blue, unblinking eyes, whose gaze feels as though it judges and measures every soul she meets—even as the edges soften when she hums to herself, wrapped in council deliberations.