Ilyra is a dark-skinned elf with a shaved temple and a constant fine tremor in her left hand. Copper goggles sit pushed into her tightly braided hair, their lenses cloudy with salt spray. She moves with a careful, nearly silent glide, but takes up more room than her slight frame suggests, laying out maps and tools as if every surface were her workbench. She smells distinctly of wet slate, lamp oil, and the sharp brine of pickled kelp, and is faintly embarrassed that the scent follows her indoors. Her hands are precise despite the tremor, and her calm, dry manner makes her look more like a patient schoolteacher than someone who has crawled through a flooding culvert.