"From what I do understand though..she's told dos quite a bit..although I'm naut sure how much of it all was necessary for dos to hear."
            Between the degrading look he was receiving, and this one's ability, or need, to switch from Common, to Drow, back to Common, he was surprised he remained silent. On the way to the House nothing was said between the two riders. He kept in mind his surroundings, though. Searching for exits, secret doors, things of that nature. It wouldn't do well for him to become trapped in that building. Not around anyone. And especially not around Drow. With a chair offered by the sweep of hand this man, now known to him as Zhaunil watched him carefully. Reactions searched for, none found. Nothing crossed the dark lines of his face, nor his eyes. They did lower, though not out of respect, more for the glance that he gave the chair. He would rather remain standing, finding it much easier to lift suddenly and bare arms if he needed to. Then again, he could do so from a seated position as well. Taking a fluid step forward, then to the side, he lowered bonelessly upon the offered seat. Many would consider the stance rigid, though he was quite relaxed. The comment given was not one he could answer, nothing he truly wanted to say. Loosely he crossed his arms over the low of his stomach, an unconscious gesture of lacking threat, even if gloved fingers idly, and thoughtfully, grazed against the inverse triangle of pommel's end.
            Thick white curls were gathered carefully in a hand before released to wash over the form fitting leather suit in waves. It was certainly more comfortable. She grimaced as the poultice was applied, though didn't bark nor bite the hand that placed it there. It was no surprise that she had gotten wounded while trying to flee from him. The thought of it nearly brought a smile to his lips. The wizened and elder features of the Houses most trusted Magi could barely be discerned from under his heavy cowl. Why he favored it even in a place of comfort, she could understand. He had been horribly disfigured by her Matrons own hand, and it was his pride that didn't allow it. Lifting her hand to catch his before it was removed, she peered at him firmly. No word need be passed between the two, just a gentle incline of head and steady meeting of gaze would do it. If she ever felt love for another male, it was he. And after all, having sired her, he should understand the affection. But too many times he'd been humbled under her Matrons oppression. She growled softly to herself and clipped the belt back to low cut leather, jerking the door open and letting it slam shut. The sway of hips was feminine even in a stride that ate up distance like fire did wood.
            He glanced upwards, having finally gotten one of their guests for the evening to actually have a seat. The slam of the door brought the pinion between the two men to slowly break and catch that stalking stride. He tilted his head and wondered what now had taken her fancy and earned her ire for the evening. He nodded and turned the crimson eyes back to the Assassin who sat before him. "Her coin was sufficient enough for your silence, then?" As he knew well that his sister would attempt at keeping such an event from his eyes if she could, but there were many secrets to be had amongst the males and she was probably aware of them all by now. His own hands laying concealed in an almost mirrored position of feigned rigidity masking the comfortable seat beneath. He left the conversation short for this one, who obviously cherished his silence. His sister, on the other hand, liked to make her entrances, and this was certainly one of them.
            Vitae hued gaze slipped over in the direction of the slam without a flinch to form, merely a gesture of curiosity. As he was spoken to, visual attention drifted back to Zhaunil. There was a long pause between when the mans last word was stated, and his own began. "Silence for what?" Thin ebony brow lifted, dyed to better conceal his face, and one would almost guess he knew nothing if it wasn't for that knowing look. He could feign ignorance if he had to. That comment was soon followed by another, though. A statement that was accompanied by a subtle dip of chin. "It is adequate, yes." And again he had drawn back to his name sake as fingers stilled beneath the Piwafwi against that bronze portion of haft.
            Platinum curls shifted as she came to rest against the curve of the table. The slender stem of glass swept between fingers, and rolled before she leaned to pour her Brother's glass full. And that would teach him to command her like a common base born slut, wouldn't it. Service with a smile? The glass was settled before him carefully. The contents of the wine was quite obviously poisoned, and she took a sip of her own glass, while pouring a fresh one for the Assassin. Here, she interjected. "I should hope so." That was the entire booty from her last raid on Qu'ellar Olath'Veldrin. She smirked, and leaned forwards slightly. The shoulder-less leather vest half hidden in the white binding of fiber keeping the poultice on her bruising. She wasn't irate anymore, calming..calm..Violets lifted to peer at him in the same piercing manner, before she leaned against the table lazily, toned legs crossing and she stated quietly. "There is more to be had. Only, the question is..are you interested in it. By the way, the House you claim hold to? Should I send word to you, will you receive it, even if you are prisoner in my home?" Without even batting a lash, Knights moved in to seal the exit ways, shadows that lurked in corners shifted, their eyes concealed beneath the weight of hoods now blinking, and a few quiet chuckles were spent. She only sipped her wine.
            Yes, yes he supposed it would, but given the same situation he'd have at least made sure that her glass was full, which is often why they did not fight over such meaningless things, because they both knew that the other would often be there for them when it counted. In many ways, they trusted few but each other, and no other held the confidentiality that they did. Who better to usher in a house whose deity was not Lloth, but Vhaerun than a brother and sister who often treated one another as equals. He watched her question the male before them and the closing of the entrances would certainly create a bit of a conundrum should this all turn ugly for the man across the table. He let her stand and interrogate as she would, it was one of her pleasures in the great scheme of things, and his fingers curled around his own glass to sip at the drug laden wine, forcing his system to ever grow more stalwart towards their introduction.
            It was one thing to take an offered seat, but a drink.. that was a completely different story. Surely the two would quite understand his rejection of it by way of not even glancing in the chalices direction. He looked upon her impassively as she spoke, and kept his eyes there as the doorways were closed off. Did she really believe that he didn't know they were there? Come now, he could smell the cheap wine the third to his left had upon his breath. The one to the right flank, his pace was a bit hesitant. The only motion that came from him was in the form of an idle passing of tongue's tip across his lower lip, dampening it within that languid stroke before it was hidden behind the flesh of dark lips again. This could seriously get ugly if things progressed the wrong way, and he was more than ready to fight to the death. All he knew is that more than half of them were going with him. She was treated to the silence that her brother had gained as he stoically looked upon her.
            "All right then, let me put it to you this way.." She shifted a bit, and lifted the glass wine she'd poured for him, sniffing the contents before drinking some of it herself. Eyes brazenly locked to his face over the edge of the glass she held. "I don't believe you are who you say you are, or..what you say you are. This Qu'ellar is going to be prosperous, and thrive..and will hold strong and steady, growing. And it will be with, or without dos. Think dos, that I bring just anybody into our midst, letting them know exactly what it is we have planned? Coin only buys so much quiet. Death, is the effective end to rumors." A glance was shared with Zhaunil once more at this point before she shoved off to stand before his chair, the glass set aside, and hands pressed to his thighs as she rocked forwards to the balls of her feet. Getting comfortably close to him, the sweet scent of poison and wine on her breath. "There are two choices, for you." He knew they were fairly obvious. Help them, or die.