Marisol Brindlebloom is a compact elder gnome who moves with the careful, side-stepping precision of someone forever navigating a crowded kitchen. Her hands are broad for a gnome, knuckled and scarred, with flour permanently settled into the fine lines of her skin no matter how often she washes. She smells faintly of yeast, smoke, and orange peel. Her expression is usually warm and amused, but there is a startling sharpness behind it, like a knife hidden in a bread loaf. She wears an iron apron that should look heavy but somehow hangs on her like ceremony, and she often has a flour-dusted ribbon tied in her hair despite her practical sensibilities.