Medea spun, startled at the warrior's greeting, her hand flying to her sword as she prepared to draw, one foot sliding backwards for greater balance before she caught herself, her foot having almost slid to press against the unmortared stone she had spotted. Her breath caught and she froze, motionless, as he held up a hand and spoke in that strange voice of his. After taking a moment and reassuring herself that he wasn't hostile, or at least - not<em>immediately</em>so - she slid her foot forward and then bent at the waist in a florid bow, armor clanking as she did so, the legacy of long hours of practice in the periphery of the Court of Waterdeep.<br/><br/>She lifted her hand to her helmet, raising it up to reveal her bright red eyes and lips, still startlingly pretty even this far out in the field. While she hadn't expected to run into anyone else out here, beauty was a weapon like any other, and had to be maintained so it wouldn't rust in its sheathe like an ill-cared for sword. "Greetings!" she said, mouth twisted into a smile to conceal her nervousness. "I am Medea of Waterdeep, here to investigate reports of a long-lost... tomb..." Her voice trailed off as she took in the archaic appearance of the fighter's armor, the threadbare nature of the cloth looking like it had been kept for far too long in a dark, dry place, still well-preserved but long aged. "Ah. Are you a resident of this place? I must confess, I had not expected to see anyone here."