Behind her, the mountain range protecting the southern end of Adela loomed overhead. Their peaks touched the clouds and beyond, rising like brilliant spikes piercings the heavens. They were the mountain range she'd called home only a few days ago. Now, after surveying the surrounding flat lands, her senses were put on high alert. Tall grass that brushed against her shoulders became her constant companion, her rapier more often than not at the ready. It was a land not to be taken lightly.
Donned in simple, gauzy clothes and minimal leather armor, she stalked the slavers that had exited the mountains unfortunately around the same time as she. It was the leader of the group she followed. He was plump, donned in gaudy jewelry, and smelled of stale sweat. His hair was greased back with animal fat, and probably hadn't been washed in over a week.
The elf managed to stay on his tail without notice until he entered a large, tacky premises that she assumed was his home. Creeping through shadows and hallways, she waited until the slaver was busy with some poor, unfortunate girl that he abused for pleasure. It would have pleased Atrice to see him dead, but confrontation was not her favorite course of action. Instead, she'd rather steal him blind of everything he ever cared about. Scanning for items of value, she snatched anything she carry out in her small satchel while remaining silent.