Despite herself, Dorothea managed to muster a small returning smile as the great bear of a man grinned. Though her heart still rapidly beat in her chest, she could not help but feel he was sincere in his reassurances. As noted by the tiny whisper in the back of her mind, he did not look like a Protector, or one overly concerned with their mandate. The pounding in her chest slowly gave way.

And then Sir Dorian returned, and for the briefest of moments she was on alert once again. As their erstwhile recruiter however began to speak, other emotions quickly rose to the surface. Shock, sadness, a flash of anger. Master Deylin was not taken as she had feared. He was safe!

[i]...And yet he had abandoned her...[/i]

For reasons she could perhaps understand, but the betrayal of her trust still stung deeply in her core. Why did he not trust her with this? Had she not made her distain for their jailors and their allies? And yet...

Again, that small smile threatened to spill forth again. He was safe. Deylin was safe, and he believed in her, enough to set her upon this path in his stead. The resentment was pushed back to it's dark corner, and Dorothea smiled.

Patiently waiting for the others to finish speaking, the young mage squeezed herself into the empty space left behind with her own words. [color=FF00FF]"I...I would request the ability to speak with my...m-my mentor at the earliest opportunity. B-But for now, I am r-ready and willing to join this endeavor. I do have a question o-of my own. Master Deylin's work; does [i]A-Amandine[/i] speak true o-on it-it's relation to the Rot?"[/color] That vision of exotic beauty was onto something with that line of questioning. The Plague was ravaging the Empire. A cure would not only save countless lives, but if developed by an unchained mage might lead to future freedoms for the inhabitants of the Gallows. Was this an incidental thing, or was Master Deylin weaving his own plot in this...this [i]conspiracy[/i]?

As her mind raced and whirred with the possibilities, her gaze drifted to the early arrivals. [u]Amandine and Faline[/u], her memory helpfully provided. Their combined presence seemed to allow Dorothea to comfortably exist in the background, all but unnoticed. It was a state of affairs that suited her fine. With an unsure smile she attempted her best to wordlessly convey her thanks, though she could not sustain that smile for long under their returning gazes. In the depths of her mind, she cursed her social anxiety!