The elf gave a slight bow. His etiquette was flawless, impeccable even, yet utterly devoid of warmth.
He had long, silver hair like frost and snow, cascading like a waterfall down his dark green robes. His face was so exquisite it could have been carved from ice, and his narrow, gray-blue eyes held a distant coldness and arrogance that pushed everyone away.
"I am Elrond, a vassal of Duke Angry Wind. His Grace is occupied with military affairs and has dispatched me to receive you."
Velin returned the bow, his movements just as precise.
"It is an honor."
Elrond led them into a reception hall.
The luxury of the place was staggering. The tables and chairs were carved from single, solid blocks of Agarwood, the cups held dew that shimmered with a faint light, and the tapestries hanging on the walls actually moved.
"Please, have a seat."
Elrond waved his hand, and several elven maids brought out platters of fruit.
