On your way north, you find yourselves buffeted by sleet and snow, the whipping, frigid air biting and relentless. As the strength of the blizzard increases, you see a light in the distance, a glowing orange-gold beacon. Trudging through the deepening snow, the glowing light ahead emerging as a brilliant dome upon a circular, wooden, walled structure. You approach this strange village as the oaken doors beneath the glowing dome open up to offer you passage into Krinnleton, home of the elves of the northern land.
The population of Krinnelton is almost exclusively northern elves– of varying height, from 4’ to 5’ tall, with pale pink skin and white-blond hair. They come across as friendly and hospitable, but uncomfortable around strangers. They usher you into the village's Common House to find shelter from the storm. The aroma of delicious soup fills the air, and a matronly elf smiles at you from behind the counter. She has white hair but is still young for an elf.
"Welcome, travelers. I am Mother Urla. Rest by the fire and warm yourselves, if you please!"