Ereleyl'dan, better known as Erel among the humans that couldn't easily pronounce her name, was, at best, a miserable failure. An outcast from her brethren, enslaved and used as little more than a sex toy for the last two decades, and only now having a chance at earning her freedom once more, the pretty drow woman trusted few people, and wanted less to do with any of them. Wrapped head to toe in light, airy clothing, concealing a chain shirt, only her red eyes and a patch of dark skin were visible to anyone who saw her, though the fact that she was taller than almost everyone else made her stand out, despite her best efforts. She'd made no friends on their journey, and was more than happy keeping it that way.<br/><br/>She was relieved to see their destination, ignoring the ongoing conversation, as she spotted the flames in the camp. Having those with the key to her freedom, the key that would unlock the magically binding collar hugging her neck, wouldn't get her free any sooner, and letting their camp burn would just be an inconvenience. "Fire," she said, pointing towards the camp, loudly enough to interrupt the argument the two irritants were having.