Listening with th save reptilian stare she has for most things, living or otherwise, Ithi'Ka nods and forces a semblance of a smile-- something that resembles post-mortem rigor-- onto her mouth.  "Thank you Mary.  Who is this, ah, Lady Dam-im... the Lady?"<br/><br/>(Potential lead-questions for brevity)<br/>-Is she a regular?<br/>-Were she or any of her 'friends' acting strangely?<br/><br/>Arms folded over her breasts, she drums her arm with the worn tips of her black-gloved fingers.  If the killer, or the changeling-- if they're not the same person-- managed to get out with the laundry, then there's no chance of catching them.<br/><br/>Ithi'Ka decides that she absolutely, without a doubt, hates changelings.  It is too easy for them... too simple to become something else, someone else, to disappear and reappear.  Ithi'Ka herself merits stealth and cunning to be among the highest artforms, but a mercuric being of no set form drains the art of its difficulty, its perfection.  Could anything so devoid of a set identity possibly have a conscience, or honor?  Why would that be necessary, when one can simply stretch one's features-- pretty one's self up so easily... like Sam.  They could have anything, or anyone (her mind drifts toward Kasumi, and for a moment she wonders... the thought evaporates like smoke).<br/><br/>"Look in on everyone, please.  In the rooms, whatever they are doing matters not."  She stretches her neck, giving a soft pop, and studies Mary.  She fights a twinge of remorse.  She'd assumed that the girl would be inured to all she saw in this room, but perhaps that is not fair... "If that does not offend you, of course.  But please tell me if anyone acts strangely."  She turns for the door, paces and waits for the report.<br/><br/>Once Nightshade's back, she'll consider what the half-elf madame has to share.  She is preparing to set after Roland, and is considering the possibilities... whoever did this has a Barghest at their beck and call... would it really be wise for her to move on them?