A sublime aura ripples through the air like the soft pitter-patter of spring rain upon a lake. A majestic being appears, bathed in the white glow of morning dew and the sweet scent of waterlilies. An unnatural stillness follows, and the man is revealed. Elvish, and pure of blood, ageless and ancient. His hair has long since fallen out, replaced by a cold, bald sheen. Remarkably, his eyebrows remain intact, silver and threatening, like lightning bolts. His youthful complexion is betrayed by his once-blue eyes, which are now cloudy and lifeless. His pointed ears, however, twitch furiously at undetectable sounds. It is nearly the only movement he makes. For when he wishes to move, he simply appears, gnarled walking stick at the ready.