Shiza Gallar – she is apart of the heroes. A
shame she doesn’t appear in other packs.
She reminds me so much of my original
character Degahrssin “Degahr” Mithuth. The hair is almost similar, enough that
I could work with it.
Degahr is one of my favorite characters. She
is antisocial. The only person she tolerates is Jexnellia, a rogue drow female
who saved her. Degahr was onced raised in a prominent drow clan familiar.
However, her sisters feared her, so they collaborated to eliminate her.
Here is a revised snippet. Please forgive any grammar or other errors. The original is riddled with them. If you are curious about the old version just ask.
Degahr stared straight into diamond-slitted
eyes. “Takes more than what you got to do me in,” she rasped in threat.
Slender, ebony fingers applied pressure to
the viper’s putrid yellow head. With expert care, she pulled its fangs from her
arm.
Agony blazed up her arm. Her stomach cramped
and spasmed from the snake’s venom. She waited for her body’s resistance to
fight against the poisons.
“Next time, choose your victim wisely.” Her
grip tightened. Bone crunched beneath the vise-like pressure.
The viper tried to attack, but it found its
movement hampered by the drow’s hold. Its slender body writhed and thrashed.
The smile beneath the veil of white hair
turned sinister. “Unfortunately, you don’t have a next time.”
Degahr clenched her jaw against the pain and
flicked her wrist. A dagger slid into her waiting palm. She positioned its tip
to the viper’s eye.
Blood splattered onto her wrist as she gauged the snake’s eye out. Degahr moved on to the rest of its body. She laughed mirthlessly as the serpent's mangled parts thumped to the ground.
“Degar?” A masculine, whispery voice queried.
Cold, scarlet-red eyes flicked over to the
man’s presence. She recognized him as the tavern’s stablemaster. Omarch, she believed
Jex called him.
His green eyes darted first to the snake then
back to her. They widened at noticing the darkening stain on her sleeve. “You
were bit!” he rushed forward.
Degahr jerked her gangly-thin body from the
male’s touch. She held him back with a blood-coated dagger, the very same one
she used on the snake. Gore dripped from the blade.
“If you know what’s good for you, jaluk,” she
sneered the last word, baring her teeth in warning. “You will keep your
distance from me.”
Omarch grunted in frustration, his white
forelocks swishing about his broad shoulders. “At least have Jex look at that.”
He pointed a gloved finger to her wound. “Tocaths are poisonous.”
“Unless you wish to sire children someday,
you will not bother the Mistress about this,” she hissed at the meddlesome male.
Omarch notched his chin up in challenge. “I
am more afraid of Jex than you. I hate to imagine what she would do to me if I
did not tell her…”
Degahr shoved her dagger back into its sheath
beneath her sleeve. “Do what you wish,” she growled in disdain and stalked out
of the stable, leaving the male behind.
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