"Arten it is," Janaece bowed in return, squeezing the elf's hand. "I am Janaece." As her head lowered with the bow, her blue eyes flicked upwards, surrounded by the green-scaled medua-mask, and she noticed Arten's gold lips with appreciative interest.<br/><br/>She next bowed to Mordred. "The flammable dust was an interesting detente...what with so many devil- and demon- looking sorts about." Then she bowed to Kineas as well, and introduced herself in case he or Mordred hadn't heard her say her name just now, and because proper introduction seemed fitting at a ball.<br/><br/>She reciprocated the squeeze of hands with Mideala, tangling her fingers tightly and softly brushing the elf's palm with her thumb. "I'm afraid I've found you to be right - most pirates aren't too easy on the eyes. Or the nose. Terrible grooming and dentistry all around."<br/><br/>She answered Kineas, noting the archmage-like garbing of the fellow, "It<em>is</em>a curious place, this manse, is it not? I was mid-hunt of a magical creature, a<em>very</em>naughty nymph she was, an enchanter of men. My tracking led through a portal which I was sure would lead to Krynn - that's not my own world, but one very like it, I've known folk from there and always been curious to visit the land of the dragonriders anyhow. This place, though, seems...different. Different sort of folk, modes of dress, and....accessories. By which I mean some of the weapons brandished just now," she laughed lightly. I'm inferring that this place is some sort of in-between place, some pocket plane, some nexus, like the plane-junction city of Sigil where several allies of mine had spent time. As long as I can get home later, I suppose it's all one. I'm much happier to've stumbled upon this party than some flaming field of the Abyss or the Hells. And at such a revel I'm likelier to find that nefarious nymph than elsewhere.""<br/><br/>She leaned over for a second to kiss Mideala's cheek, the little painted-wood snakes of her medusa-mask tickling the elf's ear and temple at the moment of contact. "It begins to have appeal for its own sake, as well. I hope it's neither just your dream, nor mine."