Casae relents her posture slightly with the reassurance of the monster being within the abbey was not a direct threat to those taking shelter within; at least for the moment. The people of Rhiannon were always a mystery to the spear woman; a homeland so unlike her own. Clad within the embrace of the lush forest, instead of on the boarder of mountains that kept the Wasteland from spilling over completely. Living in harmony with the beasts and monsters, instead of constantly struggling against them. Foolish to the Elvaan to trust in another so.<br/><br/>But it was not her fight; and the knight that had raised alarm relaxing as well. The priestess seemed to recoil from the threat of violence; and one should respect the wishes of the keeper; unimpressed scoff forms in the back of the laconic Dragoon’s throat at the tale laid out for their ears; as much as for Flornya’s question. “Half myth, half ruthlessness I’m sure. Kingdoms have been built, and fallen, on much less.”<br/>