Kolaniz: City of Thieves
The eyes. Whenever you ask somebody about Alethir Riverthorn, his eyes were what they inevitably brought up first
- piercing and green, a striking contrast against his pale, elven features. They could be full of laughter one minute, mocking and sharp the next. Set against a mouth that often seemed a half-second slow, like his smile or frown was catching up with the conversation, those who knew Alethir would learn to look at his eyes to know what he was really thinking.
His hair was thick and dark, set on a frame that was slight: more elven than human. Not that this had ever stopped any elf from identifying him as half-human, mind you, but there it was. His fingers were long and nimble, and he took care of them. His nails were clean and trimmed, and the skin was smoother than his 64 years would suggest. When he had a lute in his hands, he looked every bit the traveling bard, almost as if he had been cast in the role.
There were advantages, see, to having people underestimate you, ignore you, pay you no mind. And many would live to regret that mistake.