The wise eyes narrowed in visible scrutiny as the half-blooded man, a mingling of bloods both elf and human, introduced himself with a practiced partial bow and chested salute. His demeanor was respectable enough, yet more noticeable for its impact that it had upon the younger man who in the future would repeat the gesture, minus the same level of seniority and with a motion of his head included as well. Yet, things changed quickly enough as the idle conversation was interrupted by a rush of footfall then the opening of the door.

With a flick of one of her curved ears something unusual washed over her, in an inexplicable interruption. Enough that she angled her strong neck slightly to her shoulder and listened, ignoring the woman and allowing the rest of the collective to advance before she so much as dared take her first step further. Unclear, she had the sensation of being observed - hardly surprising was this, as something was clearly unusual about the circumstance as a whole and someone, something taking interest in it was to be expected. Whatever power, or powers, were at work here they were well beyond mundane.

Pressing, she walked quietly past the woman, ducking to avoid striking herself on the door's uppermost frame; her height, at least within the confines of the mortal, civilized world was often almost too large. In her movement, she carried with herself a presence of serene observation. Taking mental notes of all she could observe, particularly that the home was even larger than it appeared outside within. It did little to surprise her at this point, the evidence overwhelming that they were dealing with someone magically inclined, but it was a specific sort of quality; opulent was it all, with its exotic rugs, fine curtains and numerous chandeliers.

Taking up the last of the guests, they were led to a large room not far away, furnished with a grand table and a seat clearly intended for the host.

[i]"You will stay in here, for now. The master of the house will be with you shortly."[/i]

The aged beast made no effort to reply. The young servant girl with humbled yet cared for features then excused herself, but that was not what drew attention. It was what she had said and the manner in which she had said it that mattered. Either the master thought themselves of enough authority to command this group of people - all of whom were reasonably dangerous in some way or another - or the servant thought her master of such power.

Wizard or not, this collective was the sort who could pose a very grave, very practical threat.

Diagorides, or so he introduced himself as, took it upon himself to become comfortable, leaning back in one of the chairs; his introduction was brief, but decisive, the sort of thing a man like him undoubtedly cared for. He offered a partial wineskin, cementing his words with action. The others found themselves about into the room, but the young knight did so introduce himself next, speaking calmly in a metered manner.

[i]"Emil Erran of Edessa, I am a Knight of Edessa and have experience with field medical care."[/i]

Only taking the wineskin out of formality it seemed, he drank, but not before the huntress turned her attention, her entire body shifting toward the halfling who elevated herself from the ground still. There was no actual action that the monster had taken beyond setting her eyes to her in this, just that she seemingly undertook some sort of natural subconscious reaction to the efforts of Regina. In turn, all that could be glimpsed of her mind was smooth concentration - the sort that deflected mental assaults. In fact, it actually now permeated the immediate area in an aura of thoughtless dampening, coating the persons in the fine room with an invisible shroud of mental hardness.

It was always there before, an underlying calm that came with the felinoid thing, who now calmly removed her robe's hood with her left hand, but it had grown to affect an area around her. 

The younger man now set himself to one of the chairs, finishing his introduction, to which Diagorides remarked on, raising the drink in further motion following his clenched, solid fist. Were it not made of flesh, he the man and his fist, the veteran was sure he might as well be a walking mountain - no doubt as hard to resist as one. Ionathan, owing to this, seemed to examine the man for a moment in thought, remaining where he was in standing with the halfling at his side.

Jowls curving, revealing rows of deadly fangs of which menaced her monstrous nature in full, she spoke again, content that they had made it this far without killing one another, "I am Sakaala."

Her voice was unsettling, the sort of sound a woman of regal power would have if interwoven with an underlying growl.

Moving calmly to the end of the table near the master's chair, keeping herself intentionally aloof, hand gracing the edge of the fine wooden surface, she examined the entire scene before her. One of her eyes, specifically the right, was visibly blind and graced by a scar while the stillness of her right arm suggested it was in some manner disabled. Her steely breastplate covered only the upper portion of her chest, and for how visibly old she was, her musculature was still remarkable through her tattered hide that was of a greyed sand color.

"I am as men call me a 'monster', but I am many things." She said, blinking her beastly eyes in thought as she further unclasped her flame and blade pocked cloak and undid it from about her, no longer hiding and instead allowing it to hang loosely in its typical arrangement. In the process she so revealed that she bore a large bladed sword across her back, of which seemed to cling to her without visible means of attachment; something of elven make, certainly magical.

[@Zero Hex][@Jon Y][@vietmyke][@Belwicket][@IcePezz][@AdamantiumWolf]