Yevaud
While the elf talked Yevaud cocked one eyebrow, and listened, eventually he lowered his blade, and then put it away. The accent was odd, from a reclusive grouping of elves that lived far from Evermeet. He'd heard the accent numerous times before when he was assigned as an honor guard to passing dignitaries, mostly from speaking to their footmen and servants. The accent was clean, no hint of the harshness of the drowish language, and while it was possible that he had trained at length as a linguist, it was unlikely. Drow were seldom subtle if rumor was to be believed, and would like as not learn elven in a haphazard manor that would let them spy, but not interact as an elf. "You are on probation, I don't know who this "Kynnen" is, perhaps a drow as you claim, but it's not something I'd bet my life on, or that of these men. There are some left for dead below that may be able to identify you and prove the truth of your words." He nodded to the guards, who then surrounded Silt, and the cage slowly grew translucent, and then disappeared altogether. Yevaud then led the way downstairs meeting the other guards on their way up, and informed them to secure the room against anyone else coming through if they weren't personally known to the guards.
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