She may not have been willing to put too much trust in Erastil's clergy, but far be it from Oriana to deny a quest given to one in a dream. The verse, though, was...well, a little intimidating. As faithful as she was, the sorceress had no delusions of holding any special place in Desna's eye. Being given rather compelling evidence that a god had specifically chosen her and her comrades for a dangerous task was exciting and, more than anything, intimidating. Through the meal she pressed the priest for details; where the temple was, who or what the bear might be (if it wasn't just...well...a bear...) but also more personal things, what his service to Erastil had been like and how it felt to receive a dream from his god. When she gave the poor man time to eat her attention was focused for the most part on Silas, returning his barbs blow for blow ("<strong>Oh I don't know, I might be looking for somewhat...softer accommodations tonight.</strong>) though there was a bright pink tint to her cheeks as she said it. Tsoni sat happily between the pair's feet, rubbing her russet-furred head against their shins to request food, quite pleased that she'd trained her humans so well.<br/><br/>When the main meal was over and the inebriated little gnome presented the group with their new titles the young sorceress was surprisingly dour. Her fingers gently stroked the finely tooled leather, mind turning over the events of the past few days, and her life in general. She'd spent 13 years as nothing, not even her father's daughter. A troublesome little shadow in the castle, venting frustration by causing as much trouble as she could get away with. Honestly she was surprised her aunt hadn't just quietly had her killed years ago to save the king the scandal. To be handed a knighthood after three days of work (rather harrowing, life-or-death worth, admittedly) it just seemed...seemed...too easy. Maybe it was all a farce. Maybe the gnome was genuinely mad rather than just eccentric. Did they really know he was who he claimed to be? For the moment Silas's internal crisis escaped her attention, as she forced the troubling thoughts from her mind and turned to flash Adelise a crooked grin. A knighthood would suit her quite well, if nothing else, and the half-elf's baffled comment gave Oriana something to focus on other than her own thoughts.<br/><br/>"<strong><em>Dame</em> Lydia, dear. I can most definitely confirm that you are a woman,</strong>" she said with an impish smile on her lips, following the others back to their seats. When she glanced back to the suspiciously silent rogue, however, her grin faded. She'd seen lust, predatory glee, desperation, and a cold, calculating murderousness in his eyes over the course of days she could count on one hand, but the conflicted introspection she witnessed now unnerved her more than any of the others had. Silas was nothing if not sure of himself, and the look in his icy blue eyes as he stared down at the dessert he'd helped to spike was completely at odds with the mental picture Oriana had painted of him. A question formed on her lips, but died. After their odd knighting she wasn't sure she could handle someone else's personal crisis on top of her own. Instead she lifted her bowl, glancing up to meet his gaze for a moment to be sure that<em>he</em>knew that<em>she</em>knew what she was doing before raising it to her lips and slowly drinking the strange soup.