The Athenian cleric keeps her javelin in hand and grits her teeth as she circles the room once more, warily.  The gesture of martial determination on her face is undermined by her shining eyes and full, generous lips, making it almost resemble a pout.  Reluctant to remain in this chamber for any longer than necessary but trying to comprehend the nature of this place without tempting fate, she tries to identify the object from which the strangely powerful old man had appeared.  In their current light sources, her keen half-elven eyes are capable of picking out fine detail and shape, though for the moment her form is visible only as a glimmer of steel, a glint of shining eyes, and movement.  "Yes-- if we can make it through the night, we can be better prepared to make the journey tomorrow... but if he intends to<i>play with us</i>, we might be wise to get out of any strangely shaped, altar-bearing chambers laden with freakish runes."