After only a short wait, the door opened to the polite face of a young elven woman- or rather her neatly arranged dark hair, as she stood so much shorter than the knight that her eyes only just reached his chest. She craned her neck demurely to inspect the human visitor’s face, the picture of composure, apparently unperturbed by the appearance of a heavily armored man several hands taller than her upon the household’s front stoop.
“How may I help you, Ser?” said the girl, lowering her head again to curtsey. She looked clean and tidy, her clothing simple but not worn-out or overly mended. She also looked healthy, a fact which shouldn’t be as surprising as it actually was, her face much rounder and cheekbones less pronounced than the average Denerim elf straight from the Alienage. In a strange way she gave an impression of matching the estate itself perfectly; understated but clearly well cared-for.