Sue pressed her knuckles to her lips in a look of consternation as she stared at the Emperor for a long time. Her gaze slipped to the Templar, then over to the adventurers, then back to the Emperor as she mulled over her current situation for a good minute or so before heaving a great sigh through her nostrils and letting her hands swing down to their sides. “Okay,” she croaked, voice breaking just a little. “Fuck it. Fine. I’ll go. If only because I-”

Her train of thought was abruptly cut short as her head snapped up a fraction of a second before the greenish smog began to tumble out of Kean’s amulet. She steepled her fingers and shut her eyes tight as the raggedy man toyed with it for a while and seemed to twitch when he burst into loud, echoing guffaws at its antics. “...If [i]only[/i],” she continued exasperatedly, “because I’m probably the only one here who thinks that unleashing an unknown, incredibly powerful, and reportedly dangerous artifact in the middle of his majesty’s throne room [i]might[/i] be a bad idea.” She shot an unimpressed glare towards Kean before jabbing a thumb behind her. Brennen was presently in the process of picking his own artifact and, once he had chosen his pendant, he silently pocketed it. Sue gave Kean a pointed look.

It didn't take long for Sue to pick her artifact, mainly because it seemed as if she did not pick any at all. The moment she had agreed to join in on the emperor's journey, a guard had left the throne room. She simply peered at the artifacts with a faint sneer, keeping her distance from the table and her arms folded across her chest. She seemed almost surprised when the aforementioned guard tapped her on the shoulder and wordlessly presented her with a pitcher of silvery-blue liquid, to which she let loose a faint chuckle. Leaning down to peer at her reflection on the surface, she slipped her fingertips into the fluid and asked it something under her breath.

There was a sharp cracking noise as the pitcher split into chunks of glass; the liquid shot upwards, twisting and writhing into a column of solid metal that seemed to disassemble itself near the top. Shards of blueish steel were suspended in orbit around the shattered head, held together by the absolute faintest pulses of blue. Sue did not have to hold this staff; it attached itself into a position hovering an inch or so behind her back. “Didn't mean to break that,” she mumbled guiltily as she picked up as much of the glass as possible, squished it into a mass of transparent slime and pulled out of it a precise replica of the one she had broken to hand it back to the soldier.

The introduction of her Greatstaff was the inevitable reveal of Sue's previous identity. For those who had heard of her antics or seen the artistic representations from the smaller villages, this blonde haired, bitter old woman had to be Lady Diamenthia - a member of the Hounds of Eon and one of the most powerful magi to work independently from the Empire's military. That said, it was safe to say that the ten years she must have spent in hiding were unkind to her appearance and soured her personality. Comparing this hag to her former self was almost pitiable; she had lopped off those long golden curls, abandoned her sumptuous robes and age had caused her whole body to eat away at itself, leaving her a skeletal mess instead of the curvaceous icon of Alidia that she once upheld. 

She was also now in a habit of talking to her weapon. “You're not going out like that missis,” Sue snapped irritably to her staff. “I can't afford that kind of recognition anymore. Find something else to turn into.” The greatstaff hummed despondently in response, a low reverberation emanating from its very core. “Be creative; you've done it in the past.” The steely pole suddenly split along its centre and shattered, rapping the back of Sue's head with shrapnel but at a velocity that rendered the shards harmless. Sue ruefully rubbed the back of her neck as her staff reassembled itself into a thick band of metal, curling around her waist and sealing shut in some facsimile of a belt. It made a few pinging noises, to which its owner mumbled something else to it under her breath and then tugged her apron over the metal band.

“Unless there are any more stringent policies you have to force upon your so-called 'unconventional’ suicide team, I think I'll be heading out to buy supplies with the rest of your-...adventurers.” Sue uttered the final word with such bitterness that it almost felt tart to the ear. Now that she had well and truly saddled herself with the others, she seemed impatient to get going. Her belt was equally as excited, though perhaps for different reasons - it twisted and wove around Sue's waist, pleating itself into various alluring patterns and designs, writhing like a tangle of serpents chasing their own tails.