Deanora rolled her eyes when Druid spoke and she wondered why it was he thought he had to teach his grandmother how to suck eggs. The taciturn man hadn't done much to raise himself in her estimation from the first moment she clapped eyes upon him but her respect for Streban's foresight that had her not casually muse in Castor's earshot how much better she'd enjoy the company gathered should their number be absent one self important, taciturn gentleman. Thinking of Castor had her turn her gaze to her slave and favor him with a warm and beatific smile as the sounds of warfare and the rhythms of seige engine fire reverberated through the temple. Her eyes let him know she thought he was in his element and that soon he was to unleash his magnificent martial might uopn those whose deaths would undoubtably swell the ranks of the Necromancer's armies.<em>Someday soon High King,</em>she swore, again, to herself in the silence of her soul.<br/><br/>Deanora's smile next went to Dawn and she dipped her head in greeting to the Paladin who had jioned their cause after a sojourn in the land of death. She considered her a friend even though that relationship hadn't been tempered by the fires of adversity as of yet. Still, she'd found Dawn wise beyond her years and kind at heart, a rare combination for this crew the Necromancer had gathered. Deanora's attention went back to the Necromancer when he gave her her instructions. She nodded and kept in her spot until he'd issued everyone their orders, then, rather then going to the statue first, she went to Castor and hooked her fingers around the bottom edge of his ever present helmet to pull him down to her eye level. She gazed into the eye sockets of his helmet and said in a hard and sharp tone, "I do NOT release you this day... Do all duty by Streban... And return to me bathed in the blood of the enemy and covered in Glory..." Then she wrapped her other arm around his waist and pressed herself to him adding softly, "... Do so... And you will be rewarded well for pleasing me..."<br/><br/>Deanora then released her oathsworn warrior and gave Dawn the sort of look that wished her good luck and endless patience. She then went to collect the gear and scroll that would guide her through the ritual. As people filtered out of the chamber to take up their assigned duties or flee, she focused more and more of her attention on the scroll wanting to commit it's contents to memory before beginning to follow any of its instructions. She'd learned in her time of tutelage with the Necromancer that just as an archer spends time at targets honing the art of fluidly notching an arrow, drawing back, breathing then releasing her arrow, a Mage must aply the same deep, intentional focus to the preparations of their endevors. She was nervous as she realized that in her own way, the part she was to pllay was an important piece of Streban's plan and failure could cost all of them more then they realized. She used this time to calm herself and reach into the places inside her where her power resided, re-committing herself to this work of theirs and vowing, silently, to put all of herseld into achieving success or die trying.