There was a peace, a silence, to the blade that befell the throat. There was no scream; though there was the try to do so. The tanned flesh of the middle age human sliced as if the dagger were passing over the skin of an tomato. Blood trickled down the flesh and a scoff filled the air. The voice that came after it was feminine, but deep. An alto tone, smooth and tainted by an accent of a traveler well versed in the world. The Drow woman raised her hood back, eyes of a piercing golden falling over the victim.
"Tis what you receive thief." The price of his crime was death. Whatever made the weathered hume think that a drow was an easy target? Kamaria could not fathom it. She instead shook her head, tendrils of smooth silvery white hair falling around her face, almost a black look in the shade that was provided via the tree's canopy. The forest gave her the shelter she needed for the murder of this criminal, before she would return to the town to take shelter for the night. Coming to a stand, Kamaria wiped the blood off the dagger
onto the shirt of the fallen man before tucking it back into the small black sheath against her belt.
Kamaria was an intimidating drow- as most of her breed were. She stood about 5'9, with a lean figure draped in smooth skin that failed to be any darker or lighter than a sacred charcoal gray. A few scars etched themselves across her figure against her left hip, where five claw marks drew themselves against her like slightly uplifted tattoos. Another set of scars included a crossing 'X' scar that knit itself into her skin on her back near her left shoulder. Her skin was cloaked in a hunter green halter-top corset that laced up the front with thin satin laces, and a pair of long black leather breeches that fell over black boots with green cloth over the toe and tied around it in laced fashions, coming up to the shin. Around her wrists were green elven bracers, matching the green lace choker around her throat. Across her chest fell one dark brown strap that leads to a long slender sheath on her back, as well as the ebony shortbow and quiver. At her waist was the belt, with a small faded cream colored pouch at one side and her dagger at her side. Over it all, mostly her back, she had a long hunter green cloak with a dark silvery trim of lace against the bottom and a tie to match in the front before the neck.
Her face was smooth, bearing only a thin scar from two or so inches beneath her left arm down to the middle of her neck; the entirety of it on the left side of her face. Her nose was rather small, her lips full and bow shaped with the upper lip more prominent than the lower. Her eyes were somewhat narrow, but almond shaped with long charcoal lashes encasing eyes like yellow topaz. Her brows were thin and silver, accentuating of her almost always hidden emotions, and all of her features fell on a smooth face that was somewhat long with high cheek bones framed in the thick waves of her shoulder length hair- bearing two pieces (one on each side of her face) that fell down to her chest in length.
Kamaria's fingers ran over the thief and she took his little collection of money before walking off into the town once more...
Within a few moments, the rustle and bustle of town life filled her ears, and she had pulled the hood over her face, trying to hide who and what she was. Though she was not ashamed to be a drow, Kamaria had long broken the ties of being connected to a race. She'd become a traveler, a wanderer for the world to admit to its treasures. But when the humes saw her; those humans trembled or cast the angered glares of prejudice upon her. Kamaria had only learned to brush off their ignorance.
Her eyes scanned the shops nearby, and she drew the small pouch of gold out and shook it once to simply get an idea of how much there was. When that was decided, she slowed and saw a small shop nearby. An armor shop, perhaps.
Kamaria took her chances, for in her mind she knew that she was needing a new sword after her old one had become battered and frail with time.
She pushed open the door with nimble, lithe fingers bearing white nails on the tips, stepping inside. Her heels clicked against the floor and she moved with a slow unease. Her topaz eyes studied the people within, and she simply cleared her throat, reaching up to push her hood back again. The fabric fell behind her head and she pushed her fingers behind her neck, pushing the hair out from within the cloth and letting it fall over the back of the cloak.
"I need a strong blade to replace my weathered one. I am guessing you can help me." She said in her stern, alto tone , her eyes scanning the wall and people inside, before resting on one rather gruff looking human she took to be in charge.