language
Ehlaea’s eyes lit up with intrigue when Mithonbaal spoke in Greek rather than Egyptian. A small smile curled her lips.
“Hello. My name’s Ehlaea. I am, likely obviously, the Sorceress. You are the Rogue, yes?”she replied.
Ica sits, content with listening to the others. She smiles at Cassia, then traces shapes on the table with her utensils, watching Ehlaea
"Yes, I am, lady Ehlaea. I see you are intrigued by my Greek, yes?" Mithonbaal says, smiling and sitting next to the Sorcress.
language
“I’ll admit I am. I didn’t expect anyone here to know Greek, though I suppose that was my foolishness,”Ehlaea said, chuckling.
She wasn’t sure what to think regarding Mithonbaal’s proximity to her, but she would likely have to get used to everyone being this close. That was going to be tricky, considering that she had spent her most recent years in almost complete isolation.
(Oof half of this group is touch starved and the other half is super touchy cdjjcdhj)
(Yeah, lmao!)
"I am the rogue and spy. And a Phoenician to boot. Of course I know Greek." Mithonbaal smiles. "And that isn't arrogance."
Mithonbaal notices her discomfort and scoots away to alleviate it.
Ica watches the exchange with awe, not letting them know she understands Greek. Speak it? Not quite. But she could understand it. She continues to not look up, taking pleasure in her little secret. Occasionally she looks over at Cassia to smile at some quip of hers, or to continue studying the others, but for the majority of the first minutes, she admires the ornateness of the plates. Almost better than father’s. she thinks subconsciously.
language
(Lol!)
Ehlaea chuckled.
“That explains much. I have always appreciated Phoenician craftsmanship, though I only saw it occasionally,”she replied.
She noticed him scoot away, appreciating it.
Mithonbaal glances over to see Ica pretending to be focused on Cassia. You forget, Ica, that I am a trained assasin and spy. I know when someone is eavesdropping…
He turns back to Ehlaea. "I appreciate your admiration of our skill, my lady." he smiles.
business
Cassia looked up at Ica. "Here, lick this." She holds up a spoon of powder and smiles.
language
Ehlaea saw Mithonbaal glance at Ica, but didn’t mention it. She didn’t much like Ica and her loud nature, but she would just have to deal with it.
She smiled shyly at his words.
“I’m glad you do. Though I’ve seen the work of Phoenicians, I have actually never met a Phoenician, until you of course,”she replied.
Mithonbaal looks over when Cassia says "Lick this" to Ica, and grins. It's a trick, Ica. I'd like to see you do it, but also I am hesitant to see you do this…
"Makes sense," he says, turning and grinning at Ehlaea. "Not very many of us choose my profession, and very few that do are as good as I am."
Ica grins at Cassia. “And die? Or what will happen, my princess?” She shoots a questioning glare at Mithonbaal.
Mithonbaal ignores Ica, his attention focused entirely on this strange Greek Sorceress.
language
Ehlaea noticed Cassia and Ica, curious what would happen. She then looked back at Mithonbaal, even more intrigued by his words.
“‘As good as you are’. I see a story behind those words, and I am a wonderful listener. Though, I understand if you don’t want to share, whether right now or at all,”she mused.
"'Tis indeed a long story. I will start off by saying, I am a notorious assasin and spy," Mithonbaal says, grinning. "I have sucessfully eliminated many, and have gotten caught by none. My…" he pauses. "Colleagues, you could say, can not boast the same."
language
Her eyes lit up with even more intrigue.
“Assassin, and such a successful one? How interesting. I knew there was a reason I saw a crow when I came here,”Ehlaea commented thoughtfully.
business
"I can't tell you. It would ruin the surprise." Cassia stated. "I can promise that you won't die though." Cassia winked and wiggled the spoon a bit.
Mithonbaal sees her eyes light up.
"Ah, the crow. My herald, indeed. People have rumoured that I am the Raven King, but that is nonsense. I could never live up to his standards." he says, watching Ehlaea still.
language
“I honestly have never heard of the Raven King, but if he is an assassin as well, then he needs a new title. Ravens are spies and keepers of knowledge, while Crows are the heralds of death and guardians of passed souls,”Ehlaea said, chuckling a bit.
"'Tis merely a title. Although, he was a notorious assasin," Mithonbaal replies, his eyes growing distant as he remembers his father. "And a better father than I could ask for."
language
Ehlaea noticed his gaze, then smiled softly.
“Then maybe it is a fitting title. I have, personally, always considered ravens to be the symbolic mentor of crows. They do share many symbolic meanings, after all,”she mused.
Mithonbaal snaps back to reality, and smiles softly. "I apologize for the familiarity. Although, I suppose it would make sense. So rarely do I interect with someone as interesting as I am."
language
She snorted in amusement, waving off his apology.
“No need to apologize. It’s a nice change from what I’ve known. And now I have finally met a Phoenician, one who is indeed quite interesting,”she replied.
group
Tilila simply watched Ehlaea enter and sit from across the table, with a soft smile. She knew who she was, and really had no questions, though she was drawn to the other thing that was happening across the table, with Cassia and Ica. It seemed they were playing a game. Tilila liked games, especially games of risk, so it caught her attention, and she leaned forward in her seat to see.
Mithonbaal laughs. "It seems to me like you missed the true meaning of what I said… What I meant was, you are quite interesting, Ehlaea."
Efraim’s gaze then drifts around the room, listening but not really involved in what the others were saying. Perhaps they should interact with them more, considering that they would be spending a lot of time with them in the future, but their inability to speak at times made it difficult. Besides, Efraim wasn’t sure what to speak about anyway.
language
Ehlaea chuckled timidly.
“I didn’t miss what you meant. I’m just not used to being called interesting,”she said.
"Ah… that makes sense. Neither am I, to be perfectly honest." Mithonbaal says, grinning. He looks around for a moment, having forgotten where he was.
Their eyes settled on a painting that took up a large portion of the corner on one of the walls. It was father’s herons, taking flight from the Nile. Efriam’s gaze traveled with the herons, up the wall, and suddenly there were new herons, different ones. They remembered painting those. One of them held a fish, which they thought was fitting considering this was the dining room. Some of father’s herons were still hunting, searching for fish that would never come.
