The door remains open after the other leave, a woman enters, looking elven at first glance, but then you can tell although she looks similar to an elf, she is not one. She looks around, straightens a wrinkle from her clothing and says "Hello, I'm Tirial. I was told here would be a place someone could make a difference?" the female says.
A determined elegance radiates from the woman you see here, centered in the intense emerald of her almond shaped orbs; framed by silver brows and a fan of pale lashes, partially hidden behind the metallic wisps that highlight the gentle curve of her cheek bones and the heart shape of her face. The elegant line of her nose, flourished by the delicately rounded tip, sits above full lips, stained a soft berry shade in stunning contrast to the milky paleness of her skin. Silken strands are loosely tucked behind long fey ears, elegantly pointed at their tips. The rest of the thick mane slides easily into an intricate braid, flecked by tiny glass beads in varying shades of blue and green; from the deepest navy and jade to ones as light as the sky and spring buds. The loose twist of the braid follows the delicate curve of her back to settle between curved hips, tied with a thin band of raven leather. The rest of her form is slender and toned, lithe and graceful with her fey blood, subtleties suggesting greater strength beneath.
She wears a long, pale green gown, made of high-quality silk. The neckline, silk semi-loose, dips modestly across her chest, revealing defined collar bones. Her slim shoulders are left bare, save for the twist of soft golden rope, which holds up detached sleeves that fall loosely to her elbows before tightening around her forearms to vanish beneath doe-brown leather bracers featuring ivy designs in jade, detailed in fold. Accentuating her long torso is a jade bodice, made of soft velvet. The flow of deep green defines the feminine curves of her form to her hips, held closed with crosses of twisted gold rope.
The lower half of her form, long legs and delicate feet, is mostly hidden beneath a long skirt, which falls to the floor in soft folds. The pale green silk is detailed in ivy designs, a shade darker in velvet. On either side a slit rises to just above her knees, revealing the pale skin of her toned calves and doe-brown leather boots, supple with use and well-worn, that end a few inches below her knees.
She moves with cat-like grace and stands near the bar, grabbing a glass of wine from the bartender. Tirial pulls out a flute and begins playing a soft haunting melody.
Being what he is I can imagine his smile LITERALLY instead of VIRTUALLY sparkling 
