The squeak of that infernal goblin and his cart making its way through the corridor pulled the Drow out of her reverie, slowly opening her eyes and training them on the door. The goblin- she had heard his name, but saw no reason to commit it to memory- did not seem to like coming down here at all, but he especially hated having to come in here with her; shackled or not, he was rightfully terrified, and she delighted in making his work as frustrating and drawn out as she could. A small part of her regretted not having chosen to file her teeth, because it would have made forcing him to force whatever it was that passed for food into her mouth all the more entertaining.

Refusing to cooperate was as much as she was capable of at the moment. All her limbs were shackled, her feet resting on the floor but her arms pulled high over her head, just past what was comfortable. (She always found it interesting that surface dwellers so loathed the brutality of the Drow but were all too eager to carry out the same when the situation presented itself.) Curiously, her fingers were free to move, and she had not been stripped and gagged, and yet she could bring no magic forth; this was certainly no ordinary prison to entirely deny her any of her abilities with so little effort.

And so she had been waiting here, biding her time. Once she found out what she was being held for, she figured she could offer to make herself useful, find more suitable stock for whatever-it-was. Whether she actually would was another matter, but she could figure that out when the time came.

Although from the sounds of it, the time would not need to come. She heard the sound of a scuffle in the next room. The snap of bone. The keys shifting, releasing someone. Eating, drinking. Walking.

And now, walking towards her.

The figure loomed in the doorway. Charynrae surveyed him with silver eyes. He was a large human, which could be a problem, but he was also a [i]man[/i], which canceled out any concerns she might have had. He was an attractive one, at that. That could be useful.

A frown flitted across her face, disappearing as soon as it appeared. “I am no [i]witch[/i],” she said in response. “You have come here to propose something, I imagine. What is it you want?”