Upon glancing at the figure you estimated that the short male stood at a meager height of 4'9, but what was equally alarming was the distinct aura radiating off the obscured male. Covered he was in black was the man, his ambiguous but barely tainted aura enough to make goosebumps manifest all over your skin. Standing before you was no human, rather this man was an elf with the visible signs of the races' trademark knife pointed ears. However he was not just a typical moon elf, indeed the male in front of you was a distinctive dark breed known as the Drow. Like most of his kind the male's complexion was that of a soft obsidian onyx, the black complexion covering the whole of his body from what was visible. Upon seeing him take off his hood the sight of snow white locks framed his refined features, but the ever semi-permanent glare of his crimson red eyes was just enough to intimidate you from staring too long. With the male's persistent scowl it was surprisingly difficult to read his emotions, though the pressure of his crimson eyes on you felt as if they were daggers digging into your body.

By sheer chance you were able to catch the Drow off guard in an intimate moment, a rare opportunity for you to gaze at him without his black leather hugging against his body. Underneath the male was unsurprisingly lean, though the faint tautness of his flat belly and the faint clenching of his muscles indicated that he had some -- but only a little muscle on his being. Unfortunately the elf was not a flawless slab of obsidian, rather the sorcerer's nude body in front of you was marred with multiple scars. The signs of whips, daggers, and other forms of weaponry hearken to a darker time which you presumed was obtained during his time under the matriarchal hell of Drow society. Questioning Vynd after witnessing his moment of vulnerability turned out to fruitless, the male violently reacting with a snarl and a yell of "none of your business".

Keen observation has led you to a clear conclusion about the Drow. Unlike his kin who walked with an air of arrogance, you were starting to attribute the sorcerer's presence as being similar to a shadow. Fleeting, unnoticed, and with little existence was the way Vynd preferred to move about. From the inaudible footing to his naturally quiet personality, it was almost as if the Drow was attempting to invisible in his desire to avoid detection. Even his attire was monochrome, often consisting during your observations of nothing but shades of black.