The robe-clad elf watches the assistant pacing back and forth, then listens patiently at the masked woman's explanation.  At the description, she gives a curt nod, stares of absently toward the shadows of the room.  She waits for the others to ask the inevitable questions, as she knows next to nothing about a flying goblin.  She should be focused on the task at hand... her desire should be hardened and her determination honed.  None are true.  She stands separate and unflinching, rope sandals seeming to levitate her on the lush carpet, but seems a thousand miles away inside.  "Where do we start."