The wave of Molech’s presence washed over them, a mighty command of awe from even this shadow of an Emperor. These caves, big enough to house a mind to weight the universe, could not hope to contain the whole of his spirit. Vasilia took a step back, and only a step. Her shoulders straightened, turned, as her weight settled on her back foot. Poised, posed, coiled like a spring, and yet ready to indulge in every step. Her tail flicked. Her eyes flashed, defiant and thrilled. Oh, it had been some time, hadn’t it? Long enough that she might think the universe full of nothing but the likes of Jas'o; dullards and braggarts all. Who was it, who had last stepped into the ring against an equal? What other face, what younger soul? If only the circumstances weren’t so poor...

In the silence following his decree, Vasilia put a hand to her chest, and gasped loudly. “I say! The darkness has not dulled your eyes, Liu Ban. The subtle machinations of the Thundercrasher, the Heaven-splitter, cannot hide from you!”

Beside her, Galnius bit back an oath, eyes darting to the skies as if to catch the thunderheads gathering. She paid him no mind. If one wished to sift her words with Zeus’ many titles - few of which were what one might call [i]compatible[/i] with subtlety - and fret over how near a deadly line she danced, then let them sift away. It was technically a compliment, she wouldn’t say otherwise, and that’s all that mattered, really. 

“Of course, I cannot lay claim to such titles,” there went Galnius again, making undignified noises. “Today, your gracious guest is Captain Vasilia, of the Starsong Privateers.” She doffed her hat in an elegant bow. “Here is the Princess Epistia, fearless in battle and peerless of sythe. And let us not forget Galnius and his hoplites, whose loyalty is beyond compare.” Let him sift [i]that[/i] one, if he liked. “I surely speak for us all when I thank you for your honorable hospitality. But would such a visit be complete with a humble meal and a swift departure? No more complete than our company without a suitable welcome-gift. What say you, Dolce?”

Dolce stepped out from behind her, where he had surely been standing the entire time. “I think I would rather not eat lice, ma’am.”

“Nor would our host, my dear. Come! May we bestow upon you a first blessing, Liu Ban! For from these barren caves, we shall produce a meal worthy of song! Do us the honor of sharing in the first feast upon Baraddissar in centuries! Let our hearts and spirits be refreshed in this most miraculous company!”

“...also, if you could do us the favor of providing a more private venue for such refreshment, we would be most obliged. A wing of Kaeri [i]hound[/i] us, and I daresay they may not find as much hospitality in these halls.” A jest, a fine tactical assessment, and an honorable route of deescalation for the good Liu Ban. Laugh, agree, and carry on without losing face. They had each taken the other’s measure, and what good would come of further boasting here?