Nisha Zhao

Nisha was far from home. So very far from home.

When she had set out West from her magocratic society, she had done so with the purpose of opening new markets, gathering new lore and creating trade channels back to her home nation. As the youngest ever recipient of the dark robes of the Black Wizards of Kul Turas, Nisha was uniquely suited to carry the authority of her homeland and represent her elite circle in its dealings abroad. Thus, when the stunted, ugly-folk of the Thuendweir Dwarves required assistance in protecting their homeland, Nisha Zhao had seen it as an opportunity to make friends and create economic inroads.

"None for me, thank you," she politely declined the dragon-things offer. The ring around her left pinky provided her physical form with all the sustenance it needed through the various spells woven into its design.

"But! Some taste is always appreciated..."

The wizard drew up a finely made leather satchel, opened its top and reached inside to produce a bottle of aged, white wine and several glasses.

As a show of manners, she gestured an offer to the dragon-thing and the mother and son duo, pouring them a glass if they so desired, before attending to her own.

Reclining on her chair - which she had doubtless produced via magical means - the wizard's figure was hugged by a beautifully woven black regalia with silver trimmings. Her jet black hair was drawn back and styled, while the gentle angles of her eyelids were coloured with a rosey application that accentuated her exotic features. Well, exotic to these lands anywhere. To Nisha, everything in this region was strange and foreign.

"I would not have taken the dwarves to be incapable of resisting hobgoblins on their own..." Nisha floated the idea, her voice both accented and smooth.