Walking slowly, no rush in her movements, just following the priestess's lead as best she could, sure that the strange, cloak bound rogue was not far behind, that.. head at his side, Norbert? She hadn't the foggiest of idea's what that was all about, this place became stranger and stranger the longer she tried to work it all out. The priestess's sarcastic tone before hasn't lightened her thoughts about this place, it seemed as if she too loathed it, didn't brood well for Vina's own expectations.<br/><br/>“I came, because their seemed to have been no need for me.. I found it hard to fit in, with races I didn't know or understand. Lucky or not, depending on how one looks at it, I cannot remember a thing of what I once was, all I know is the name I was given and the weapon at my back.. I'm not even sure of the name, a prisoner named me that, shortly before I severed their head from their body... I'm sorry, I'm missing the point, im here because I wanted to fit in somewhere, I think?” she trailed off, inwardly kicking herself once more.. she couldn't get one sentence out without a hint of doubt or weakness<i>Come on, I bet those people you murdered would laugh themselves to undeath if they could see who ended them</i>she chided herself, totally hopeless and oblivious to the small, charming exchange the priestess made towards their cloaked follower, she heard the heads name pop up though, she though.. so strange it all was.<br/><br/>“I don't care much for it, if they will not repair, then I shall don a new set. I have the gold at least, least they tipped well..” she trailed off at her attempt at humour, her voice however betraying any sense of jest in her own words<i>A start anyway </i>somehow that brought the crooked smile back “yes.. a fresh set of plate, and a new weapon.. or two..”<br/><br/>She cast her eyes up and down the lithe form of the priestess, very unlike herself, while Vina made no attempt to hide her exposed thigh bones, her finger stumps, her spinal column.. anything that had rotted away or removed during life. Maoria was neatly encased in her pretty robes, only the yellow eyes and undeathly hue to her skin showing her as one of the living dead, at least at first glance. She wondered how she had died, the plague? A clean and tidy death.. sis she remember anything of her prior life? Did the rogue? She was thinking far to much into this.. letting the sights pass her by without any intake.<br/><br/>“what.. do you do Moaria? The.. rogue continues to evade that question.. perhaps you will not?” she asked without a hint of spite for the rogue, she just stated fact. Interested in them, hoping they wouldn't ask to much lest she make herself to vulnerable.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>