When swathed in her natural scales, the Lady of Briers is a towering, wingless wyrm of indigo and lilac tones. Along her sinuous spine runs a ridge of tangled barbs that may be natural thorns or bone spurs; perhaps both. Her face is long but flat, like a crocodile, the edges lifting in a fixed, mocking smile. The Lady bears a quartet of powerful legs, the foreclaws of which are as articulate as any goldsmith’s hands. However, this is not the form in which the Lady of Briers is countered. Instead, people encounter a sultry elven woman with deep green skin and bright violet eyes. She keeps her raven hair in a plaited braid tangled with vines and wears a sweeping, black robe. The Lady carries an ornate staff embossed with mithril vine-work that is topped with a smoked-crystal crow skull. Few find it all that the forest gorse always parts for her and a sardonic smile hangs on her thin lips. The Lady of Briers wants one thing, solitude. Her forest is her domain, her hunting ground, her ...