[sblock=OoC]Thank you all for your patience. Life has been miserable, but the forecast calls for less cloudy days and more sunshine, metaphorically speaking. I promise to be more prompt in the future.[/sblock]
Quaen sat formally in a chair, silently appraising her new companions. An elf with the nearly-heriditary fascination with the lost arcane powers of old, she was a seeker of occult knowledge, who delved into secrets sometimes best left forgotten. A shopkeeper by occupation for the last 12 years, Quaen was in actuality a necromancer by profession. Despite her sinister talents, she dresses in a manner quite unlike what the popular imagination would evoke, with a teal green outfit with skirts and underskirts, a merchant's best formal dress. Her face is flush with color, graced with two grey sharp eyes, and hair bleached blonde so many times it had taken on the appearance of straw, except without the messy stack effect. Pointed ears and delicate features more pronounced than any Khoravar possessed announced her ancient origins in Xen'drik.
Waiting for the others to finish introducing themselves, Quaen takes a moment before speaking, choosing her words carefully. "My name is Quaen. I run a shop that caters to those who have an interest in the arcane," she introduces herself. "I am a competent researcher and... specialize in the field of the occult." Quaen licks her lips and glances briefly at Adele. That woman reminded her of herself in enough ways to make her uneasy. She might have seen her before in her shop, but unlikely at any frequent intervals, as she doesn't clearly remember anyone like her. The scent of Doc's cigars though... it was vaugely familiar, a smell that had haunted her shop for a number of weeks in the past.
Remaining silent through the discussion, Quaen's interest is piqued once the Cardinal's message was brought up. "Magically? Is she capable of casting a spell on her own? Or is it some relic that faciliated her words?"
