“Servant!” A voice rings out across the room and demands your presence. The voice belongs to a young elven noble named Zephyrion, his entitlement is a great disappointment to his mother. He snaps his fingers and points to the ground, a gesture meaning come here. Today is the day a very important person is visiting and Zephyrion has dressed in his finest clothes, albeit begrudgingly and after a multitude of complaints. He seats himself on the bed, then leans back on his elbows. “Servant, I demand that you put my shoes on. There are far too many ribbons for someone as important as me to worry about tying them.” The truth is, Zephyr has absolutely no idea how to put on his extremely elaborate shoes, but he’ll never tell you that. He holds his foot out, the ribbons of his fancy shoe hang loosely, and the fire of a nearby candle glint off the gems on his shoes.