As soldiers bristled at the word 'drow', Zatana followed the Prince and his retinue, which she was a part of, whilst listening to the passionate speech given by Leonidas. It was idealistic, she thought with a certain fondness that was often aimed towards a child who did not quite grasp the realities of life. The point of the matter was reasonable when paired to dwarves. The dark elves, however, were not dwarves. Theirs was a society that firmly believed the strong were the only ones fit to rule, while there were exceptions they were not disillusioned by the fact that the strong ruled. Even as she sat on the wicked mare, Zatana could see that fact very well. Prince Leonidas was a strong man, inspiring, and his strength was not only in the hammer he wielded. Power was ever in debate as to what the strongest was, or who it was. The mage could smite an army, but one assassin could kill that mage. Put the thinking of a dark elf that power was the way of the strong and that anyone weaker deserved to be trodden underfoot, for the most part, and she could well understand the blatant hatred for her people. The drow did not ask or form treaties unless it worked in their favor and they did that when their foe was so broken they would sign away their people to slavery rather than watch more of the brutality that the dark elves would visit. Then they would watch it anyway, unable to stop it because they had signed away everything.

Zatana Aleana, drowish spy and member of the Prince's Royal Guard, couldn't help but agree with those who hated the drow. Her mother had never asked for a child and cared even less for the one she had. In truth, Zatana couldn't really recall much of the woman besides a name and a family tie which she would never admit to it was so low in society. She hardly ever thought of the woman aside from the passing thought that if she was asked to kill her, she would. Anyone she admitted that to would be appalled, but why would Zatana care? Her mother meant nothing to her, and the word 'mother' in the role most considered it did not enter her mind when she thought of her. The truer translation of the word 'mother' when it was 'woman who birthed me'. Her father had cared even less, a slip of the tongue had given Zatana a life that was decent. Her grandfather had given her a life that was instructive, worth something. A life that could claim power and strength in its own way. Murdoc was a rare drow, he did not find interest in the power you could weild over others. It was the power within himself and his knowledge that he craved. Which was why she was riding along in the Prince's retinue, and why when Leonadis glanced her way she made no motion of discomfort. Though she was drow to her very soul, she was well aware of the perils and brutality that had been their past and present.

Balthazar rose the argument that forgiveness was well and good but one should still be on guard. Which was more than reasonable, and Zatana gave a wicked grin behind her mask. [color=SlateBlue]"Well said, Wizard."[/color] Her soft voice was certainly not heard, though Zatana as she dismounted her mare. Deciding to leave the horse who would not be of any use within the city. If it was a siege, then the walls were sure to be her new mount until the orcs and goblins broke or left. More likely the former, the latter was too much for them to consider. Hearing Acrius, she decided to join him. Listening in on a conversation like the Prince was having would be good for her notes, but checking Balthazar's mail was enough for one day. Let the wizard think what he wanted, Zatana though he would have made an interesting dark elf if he had been of the correct lineage. Maybe she could have coaxed him into working with her then. 

Watching Acrius walk away she noted his track record. A hot-blooded young man, which in humans usually was a troubling combination. [color=SlateBlue]"I shall keep Acrius out of trouble, or attempt to."[/color] And so she did. Not that she let him know she was following him. A shadow amongst the soldiers, though they did notice her and she heard the whispers. Adjusting the Royal Guard symbol, those whispers only grew. Her brows knitted together, did they think her deaf? Apparently, Acrius thought a gossiping group was deaf as he roared at them. Stepping towards the current trio, she adjusted a glove, tightening it slightly. Careful to move directly behind Acrius with a fiendish delight, she tapped him on one shoulder and sidestepped up to his other side. [color=SlateBlue]"Assume that 'we' do not know. Assumptions are quite annoying when discussing information."[/color] She quipped in a soft voice. [color=SlateBlue]"You speak of maidens and not letting Merik about, but t'was it not you who was frolicking with a maiden?"[/color] She was certain that had nothing to do with anything, but she was curious as to why a strange girl had been waving at Acrius with a look that would warn a drowish man to run for the hills.