Solanaceae
A curious foreigner from some exotic land arrived in Sarshel in a dark hour of the night, when the moon was full and fat in the sky. She arrived by way of a shoddy little boat, one of many to disembark and promptly disperse from the docks as hastily as possible. Travel-weary and quickly lost, she wandered the town quietly lost for some hours, following the faint sound of harp tunes and singing.Of some unclear and exotic origin, this woman is an amalgamation of darkly spiced scents and jingling bells. She has a pleasant sort of face, with particularly full lips and brows that border on absurdity without quite achieving it. Dark eyes are framed by thick lashes and a mound of wild curls, which spill out down her back. A songstress by trade, marked by the tiny bells that ring faintly from a simple chain. She speaks in a coppery voice, and sings in the soprano range.