Sahaal wandered through the hallways, until he finally came across the main attraction of the dungeon. She had been captured as a youth from the Kal'dorei, his people's distant cousins. She had grown up and had been forced to slowly turn into a creature with a desire for one thing, not freedom, not power, not revenge, but sex. Silver, or Sil as she was more commonly known, was a nympho-by-narcotic, aphrodisiacs driving her needs for sex to equal a physical addiction. It was an irony, as it was no different than what all of his people had faced; an overwhelming addiction that could easily drive one mad with the desire to sate it.<br/><br/>The Blood Elves, however, had survived their addiction; those too weak to control their hungers were no longer considered their kin, and were hunted down and put out of their misery. In Sahaal's eyes, Sil was not all that different from the Wretched of his homeland. Silver, however, was somewhat more useful, as her addiction allowed him ample opportunity for a variety of entertainments. Entering the room, he also spotted the keeper of the Horde's little rompus room, a death knight. Sahaal knew of those that had betrayed the Lich King and sided with their kin once more, but there was still a small part of him that remembered what death knights had brought to his home, and it burned.<br/><br/>"Hello there, Peacebloom," he said, still finding the name somewhat jarring with the hulking armoured figure before him. "Do you have any plans in mind for her?" His head tilted in the direction of the pathetic night elf whore chained to the wall.