The thunderous clang of the cell door's violent closure still rang through Yvah's ears as she slipped out of the hallway ahead of the others. Horrified prisoners started to flock toward the ready vessel still bobbing about in the infested waters. It seemed best to her for the party to have someone help the defenseless escape safely. Though, how much party was even left was debatable. 

Yvah pulled at the staff upon her back, pressing one end firmly to the glossy, blood-stained stone beneath and strapping her lantern atop the opposite end. As she lofted the small point of light within the air, she spoke shakily but with some authority. She knew at least someone had to take the reigns of this mess. "Solglia, you seem the most ready to leave," she turned then to the dwarven cleric, "Why don't you help escort them safely to their homes? There's no telling if there are more scaleys in hiding." 

Yvah stepped closer to the rest of the able-bodied fighters among the prisoners, the ones she had seen fight alongside her. "You all can go if you need. None of you have any obligation to stay at this point. Only me and Ulor do, now," she said the last point quietly, under her breath. She soon broke the momentary silence she had caused, nodding pointedly at Eilina, "But you can stick around if you'd rather." 

Her assertion then dwindled, her shoulders slumping as she closely approached Araerys. "You don't have to stay," she said in a somber tone and with hushed volume, "None of this is your fight. You've already done more than enough. Leave now while you can." Guilt seemed to spell out in her eyes as she spoke, especially after examining some of the bard's injuries. "You don't owe us anything, Ary."