She just laughs.

"What's so funny?! How dare you mock me!" Hilda's so angry she's practically seeing red.

"Me? Mock you?" She says in an incredulous tone. "You're the one making a fool of yourself! Look at what you're wearing. Those clothes are completely unacceptable. Are you here to face me in an honorable duel me or audition to be the king's next jester?"

Her remarks cut through Hilda like no sword ever could.

How could I have been so utterly unprepared today? It's a good thing no one else is around to see me bumble like this.

"Everyone knows real duelists remove all unessential clothing when they compete. Are you so ashamed of yourself that you consider all of that," she gestures at Hilda's attire, "essential? Maybe I was wrong about you. If you aren't going to take this seriously I might as well go now..."

She makes a show of turning around, like she is about to walk away.

"Wait!" Hilda cries out as she quickly pulls her shirt over her head and starts undoing the belt that keeps her pants up. Soon they join the rest of her gear in the bags by the side of the road.

"The boots too, hon," the drow quickly chimes in.

Hilda slides them off in record time, tossing them away.

The drow smiles to herself at the thought of finding such a pliable and easily-manipulated person to rob.