<strong>Diadra Starborn</strong><br/><br/>Stepping into the city with her huge emerald eyes alight with curiosity at the sights and sounds before her, Diadra was all but entranced by this new place.  Soft, silvery chimes came from a pair of mithril bells hanging from the tie that held back her cascade of copper ringlets, and her long ears twitched backward at the clamor that came from the city before her.  Glancing up at her well crafted glaive's head, she assured herself that the blade was well covered...her mother had been<em>quite</em>clear that some would seek to steal such a weapon.  The gold-threaded darkwood haft couldn't be effectively hidden, though, so she had to make do with what she had.  A mithril and gold breastplate with metallic green threading reminiscent of vines as well as matching plated boots that rose to her thighs enhanced her appearance enough that many of the morning-going travelers glanced at the fine-boned elf.  A metal reinforced leather 'skirt' protected her thighs well enough without impacting her mobility, while revealing a hint of almost unnaturally pale skin, as if Diadra had been raised indoors all her life.  Her figure was trim, almost tomboyish, and her height was a touch below that of the average human, making her somewhat small and petite even for an elf, and with small hips to top it off.  Yet in spite of that, she moved with the grace of a dancer and trained warrior, exuding a sense of strength and inner beauty that belied her relatively plain features.<br/><br/>But this, this was where her grandmother, Kalisandra, had fought the Ebon Lord several hundred years before.  It was rather...loud and smelly, to be honest with herself, but the city before her was merely the first stop on her journey to see the world.  Looking about her again, she began toward the noble district, confident she knew about where it was...at least, if it hadn't moved in the last few hundred years.  It occurred to her to wonder if her mother or grandmother had kept the manor in good repair, but it wasn't that much of a concern.  More than once she stopped to look at something the humans had come up with, and others simply to marvel at some bit of foolishness that even<em>she</em>wouldn't have attempted.  Some of the buildings...my, were they horrid!  And<em>who</em>came up with the layout of the streets?  It was taking her far longer to get where she was trying to go than she wished, and at last she stopped at a crossroad, a faint hint of vexation crossing her features.