Those at all familiar with the Ljósálfar, those Alfs regarded as the so called High Elves, will note some number of their defining traits in looking upon Askatla.   The preternatural grace, the elegantly proportioned features and frame, the mellifluous voice.  But then there are the differences -- the dusky complexion, the mane of white-silver hair, and the magenta eyes -- that can shift so swiftly from dreamy introspection, to mischievousness or piercing scrutiny.

Askatla speaks the Norscan tongue in a distinctly archaic manner.   It was the way it was spoken back when she learned it; and humans change things so swiftly, and so often.  She not infrequently sings softly to herself, in the lovely, lilting tongue of all Alfs and the Vanir.  Her singing is sometimes used for more purposeful things,  becoming more intense and eerie when it is.   Much of the time, Askatla has the cowl of her cloak drawn up -- both to conceal her heritage, as well as to ward off the light from the burning orb overhead, for which she will never hold any love. Beneath the cloak, she usually wears a basic but elegant travel gown of dark crimson and black, with purple trim.

Of course, her presence in the lighter places of Midgard begs a question ---   just what prompts a Dökkálfar to leave all that is familiar to her, and go trekking about with a band of mortals -  ?