[center][h2][b][color=#d31c0a]Deo’Irah[/color][/b][/h2][/center]

Satisfied with the answer, Irah looked Nabi up and down and made various judgements about her appearance: she noticed first that Nabi’s eyes were similar to her own, crimson-red and [i]intense[/i]. She was adorned well, too: flashes of silver in her ears, glints of ruby elsewhere, and a heavy pack of provisions she hefted about with ease. Some sort of traveller, though clearly on foot–where she’d come from was a mystery to Irah, but she did not afford herself the time to ponder it further before the ribbon of water whipped itself back up into her halo with a gentle splash. She didn’t speak any further to Nabi, instead motioning with her eyes and a nod of her head as she continued onward toward the manor. 

As Sir Yanin spoke to her she paid him rapt attention, leaning in in an almost-conspiratorial fashion:

[b][color=#d31c0a]”Lhirinthyl, lightning mostly–though he’s also good against metal. He is deadly; be careful. I am Deo’Irah–Water is my element, as you can see. I am less lethal but not less dangerous.”[/color][/b] she spoke, clear and concise, and her eyes flashing upward as she mentioned water. She glanced over at Yanin and Jordan for a moment, then, too: they seemed to be the sort to [i]physically[/i] engage with their targets to perhaps the exclusion of all else (though, as she glanced down to his weaponry and noted the falcon-and-viper, she wondered if indeed his tongue might be as sharp as the blade). They could be relied upon to put themselves between her and harm’s way, whatever that ended up being.

She studied Freagon next, and Jaelnec (though it was immediately clear he was the underling in that relationship), focusing intently on Freagon. The way that he looked (she thought, quietly seething about how difficult it was to tell where Nightwalkers were looking and thus what they were interested in) at Sir Yanin was… well, it made her gaze feel soft by comparison. Two dominant personalities clashing, perhaps: she’d have to be very careful about how she negotiated her way around those two, if they were both to be useful without clashing. She would not suffer dissension in the ranks, not with innocent lives at stake. Still–the Knights of the Will… they’d been extinct longer than any given Nightwalker lived, hadn’t they? How could what he was saying be true?

She made sure to meet Jaelnec’s wandering gaze briefly, attempting to catch it during its arc between Fraegon and Yanin. She offered him a demure smile, a slight exhalation of breath escaping her nose, before she turned to look towards the rapidly unfolding situation. Her eyes widened a little as she looked down at the Baroness–quite the unusual turn of events, as she’d gotten rather used to looking up at people when travelling with Lhirin–and noted her lack of desire to be… attended to. That was the sort of thing that Irah would expect from an adventurer-turned-noblewoman, and a penin nevertheless. She had almost forgotten that Lady Bor was a penin, but the chatter she’d overheard about it when initially picking up the trail of her call to adventure was quite insistent on the fact that she was (and unusually so, in Irah’s mind–why should the fact she was a penin matter at all?).

She watched Lhirin ask his questions eagerly, her assessment of the Baroness increasing to the point that she wondered if they were simply being a bit precious with their high concept of duty–-she needed protecting, of course, but Irah could see a glimmer of independence in her that perhaps merited a lighter hand. She cringed at the sound of the bronze blade cleaving through the rock, settling her nerves by taking a smooth breath in through her nose and holding it, exhaling the irritation with it. She would teach him again about his manners later, for now, there was work to do. She stepped aside from the gathering in front of the gates (stealing a quick glance in the direction of Jaelnec as she did so) and stepped down the path briskly to join him, sensing her presence might be necessary after all to calm down Lhirin’s wild intensity. Not that she would make it any less intense: but less wild was usually a start. 

[b][color=#d31c0a]”How many guests? You may not know of the wraiths formally, but how did they manifest, or what effects did they produce? Can you describe the summoner, so we can pick them out?”[/color][/b] Irah continued, specifying Lhirinthyl’s questions with the softer details he might neglect. She continued to hold the water aloft above her without a second thought, only her right hand held demurely in an almost-clenching motion with her fingertips. The sudden burst of effort had somewhat sullied her robe, alongside administering to the patients nearby–and as she noticed, she directed a little ribbon of water to wash the bits away idly, while she looked at the diminutive figure of the Lady her periphery made sure to focus inwards, absorbing details in and around the house before them. In the back of her mind, she made sure also to keep Kinder informed of the goings-on, freely sharing her perceptions of the world and her thoughts. Playing host to a divine as she was, after all, was quite an advantageous position to be in for this particular predicament. She wasn’t sure whose favour she curried, to have been sent exactly where she appeared to be needed, but she did not permit herself to consider it more than that.