<strong>Quelthar </strong><br/><br/>Riding through the dark expanse of the Underdark Quelthar had plenty of time to pour over the spell scrolls he had brought with him, committing them to memory.<br/>One particular spell he was confident would prove useful was an illusion that would make him appear of another race - because little else stands out more in an elven settlement than a drow. He hoped the illusion would be potent enough to present a more inviting appearance than the scowl he wore at the mere thought of passing himself off as an elf. But he saw no other way to speedily secure her trust than to appear as one of her own. No elf would agree to follow a drow to a drow city, no matter what imaginary reason Quelthar might manage to conjure up requiring her presence there .<br/><br/>He spoke little with the other members of the caravan, only questioning the duergar caravan chief on their location and distance from the surface every so often. The stout duergar guards trudging along at the front and the rear of the column seemingly did a sufficient job of keeping anyone that might take interest in the caravan at bay.