So the lady with the pallid green skin is what is called a Grehl. Their race did not exist during the previous age, but rather sprang into existence during The Shattering. It is said that they were crafted by a dark god from the rotting flesh of many elves, hence their sickly green color. Lacking in the finesse and intellect of their elven brethren, instead they harbor a seething hatred for all the finer things. Favoring brute strength and viciousness over everything else, Theirs is a bloodthirsty race hellbent on constant war. Their social hierarchy is strictly built upon a might makes right scenario, their leader only the leader so long as he proves him or herself stronger than any other warrior in their camp. Due to the reckless way they fight, these Grehl often find their bodies covered in many scars, and in fact these scars are usually a point of pride for them, as a sign of a wound that failed to kill them. Grehl do not take prisoners, but do take trophies.

Generally speaking Grehl are dangerous enemies, and ally to no one but themselves. However there are, in EXTREMELY rare cases, a Grehl who manages to shed the violence loving and hate filled culture of their people to allow them to peaceably coexist with the other races... relative speaking. Even a grehl who manages to find a place in other civilizations is usually an outsider, and keep to themselves. Grehl of these kind are usually old or weak Grehl, fleeing their own tribe for the sake of their own safety, or those who had enough decency within them to find themselves disgusted with the brutality often expressed by the Grehl and leaving for more peaceful lodging. Again, these sort of Grehl are EXTREMELY rare, but not unheard of.

In my head canon, the Grehl pictured here is actually the slave of the 'elf' pictured here. She was captured in battle, and sold into slavery where her mistress bought her, finding amusement in the challenge of taming a Grehl. While elves usually are the fiercest enemies of the Grehl, this lady takes good care of her Grehl slave, much to the Grehl's distaste. Rather than treat her brutally, cutting her, causing her pain, the elf dresses her up in frilly clothes, makes her sleep in a soft warm bed in a lavish mansion, eat good food, all while the elf addresses her with the pet name "My little mint chocolate chip." Mint, as I'm now going to call her, absolutely hates it, and frequently expresses her hatred for her mistress, but deep down inside loves the tender attention she recieves, and is ashamed of herself for taking any pleasure in it. In spite of all her grousing and frequent use of death threats, she's a loyal servant. Just don't tell Mint she's 'housebroken', her hands may be bound for the sake of the mistress's guests, but you'd be surprised how quickly she can get that rope around your neck.

By the way, the reason why I keep referring to the tall woman as an 'elf' is because while they are elfen in stature, I don't really have a name for them. The working name right now is Lonan, but I'm not a hundred percent on it.

Human as always is for scale.