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[Thraxas]

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Months had passed since Thraxas had fell into the hands of these... elves. He had picked up enough of their mannerisms and a few hushed phrases to believe that of his captors. His only real doubt was if they were all Heartwood elves or a mix of them and renegade drow. Ultimately it didn't matter---it did not change his plans against Heartwood, only heightened his hatred... and his desire for revenge.

He had lost a lot of weight---the food being quite bland and the portions scanty. He was in almost constant pain---the manacles had rubbed his wrists to the point where thick callouses had formed. His clothes were in tatters and he reeked... as no baths had been permitted him. The taste of his own medicine was quite bitter.

"This flesh is a curse to me! Oh if only I had the power to show them what I really am beneath it... to give them the death they so richly deserve!" He knew those days were long gone... he could never, aside from a polymorph spell, transform into his true nature. To them he was merely a human, perhaps they had guessed a mage and necromancer, but their interest was only that he was an official of some importance in Yew and the Maritime Union---a pawn in some kind of political game of chess.

If they had wanted to merely kill him they would have done it long ago. Perhaps the ransom terms were too high, or maybe, befitting their dark nature as drow, they enjoyed watching his torment. Either way, he had no choice but to believe that his continued existence in this godforsaken cave would continue to be his lot---until they grew tired of the game they were playing, or decided to change the rules.
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"If a criminal has what you want, you do business with him."