So it appeared that they understood. That was a good sign. Mithias seemed to relax slightly as Goldibanne put away her magic, yet he watched her with cautious suspicion. Her tone of voice, her continual reminders of how powerful she and her allies were, was a red flag to the often misjudged vampire. Prideful and arrogant, she appeared to be very comfortable with having the upper hand and expected to be untouchable. She was a being that had probably never known suffering or fear in all her life, and like so many of the oldblood vampires from Mithias' home world, power had made her haughty and coldhearted. It was she who would be the danger to the group. She would be the one most likely to abandon the others and turn tail when the going got rough. After an accusatory moment, Mithias dropped his judgemental glare and listened to Artorius. 

Clipping his swords to holsters on his hips, Mithias returned to a casual stance. He bowed, introducing himself. "I am Mithias. I mean you no harm, and I will help you find these 'terrorists.'" He gave no answer to what he was, but left it as either obvious or oblivious, depending on who was wondering. He blinked at Claire out of the corner of his eye. She was still watching him. Yet he continued, not certain if they were going to talk out here or allow him to enter within. "Please tell me more."