The Lady Genevieve's outburst spurred the old huntress' numb fingers to move; they responded out of reflex with a subtle twitch at their wide, padded tips, the sort that had she not had the control she did over them again through sheer practice and force of will, that they would have wished to draw blades. It was muscle memory and truly instinctual, evoking days old, but the half beast showed no other outward response and that which she just had were so subtle, she doubted if anyone but Diagorides could even notice. The man was a veteran fighter, a brawler too by the looks of it - someone who could read body language and use it like any other weapon against an enemy as leverage.

"My questioning of her motivation," Sakaala began, looking unto the small woman who freely floated from the fine floors without any apparent magical means, "Is more a question of our own morality. Were we not to ask, even [i]if[/i] she were to lie to us now, makes us little better than the same people you seem to hate, as there is obviously some reason to doubt their nobility."

The Huntress adjusted herself, rolling her sizable shoulders slightly, and looking over the woman across the table who settled herself now, attempting to clearly regain her composure after the outburst. There was no doubt the warrior-mage was skeptical of the entire thing still, but now she had a few tools to mitigate her concerns. Not to dispel them, no, but at least provide enough peace of mind that the ordeal might be as righteous as it was presented.

Humans were just as likely to be deceitful as they were not to be; this of course made working with them difficult. Other races? It varied by their individual lot, but at least one could always have a sense of their typical motives, and all this only served to remind the beastly woman more of what had become of her people. Lady Genevieve was not [i]those[/i] humans, at least not credibly so, as their people had been mostly eradicated in recourse for their deeds and those of their forefathers; to hold a grudge or prejudice would be foolish. 

Her ears cocked forth again though as the arcanist spoke and stood from her chair with a slow nod.

[i]“It is getting late, and I would have my champions well rested and prepared. Should you all be in agreement with my terms, I have prepared rooms for each of you, I do hope they are to your liking. Your beds have already been turned down, and there are hot baths waiting for you in your personal quarters. If there is nothing else, my aid will escort you upstairs.”[/i]

The offer of a warm bath was a notable perk, as she was accustomed to either the cold water, or whatever she could convince her typical - almost always soldiering sort - companions to allow her. Usually at best a pot of boiled water initially meant for something else; men typically did not argue with a woman several heads taller than them and with the body of a leonine monster, let alone one who could wield sword or will magic. Sadly, she acknowledged she could not be at ease here, let alone muse on the matter, at least not until she could meditate on the truth.

"To destroy this... 'demon', this 'Zargon' of Waeldeshore fame, is no small feat - even for you." She spoke to the woman of the house with appropriately placed words, "So I can suppose it is reasonable as to why we, as we are, are needed. Not to mention the noteworthy reward in coin's sum and honor alike."

"I will agree to this intent." The veteran said, just as carefully deciding how to pledge her expertise.

It was a muddied business, the realm's system of pledges, honor and duty, so she intentionally agreed to the idea of destroying those who would aid this demonic presence with these relics, rather than to Lady Genevieve herself. After all, the power to discern truth and lies was a tool of those who practiced godly arts and worship, so her oath and intent needed to align. This practice, taught to her long ago when she first began down this path of warfare for hire, had kept her and her earliest companions out of trouble; those who first ignored her monstrous mien. Though unlike them, the elder felid actually had noble intentions beyond avoiding meeting her end under an executioner's axe.

She looked to the two knights not far from her, of whom both had already sworn along with the halfing woman their willingness to carry out the lady of the house's request; her expression was mostly stoic, only her jowls curved subtly in a knowing smile. 

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