[@Thinslayer]

It seemed that Zenovia had just made it in time for the meeting. The guard had let her in without as much as a question about her identity. She quietly assumed a seat somewhere and listened to Sardon. The young wood elf didn't really know what she was getting into until the man mentioned the death of a woman by the name of 'Lady Durvain', obviously someone important. Leader of the Humans if she remembered correctly. 'The Warlock' seemed quite ominous, but overall she was quite oblivious to what was actually going on. However, the death of Durvain was, of course, a terrible thing. Perhaps her spirit still lingers somewhere.

Zenovia glanced around at the others whom she assumed she would be working with, given the instructions from the leader. Everyone looked quite.. Prepared. Whereas she seemed quite unprepared, given that she only brought a sling satchel of belongings. 

"Zenovia Almire, you shall be the party's mage, the hand of the gods."

She looked up at the man as she heard her name. [color=6ecff6]"M-mage..? Me..?"[/color] She muttered in disbelief. She was a little apprehensive about this. Yes, she could cast magic, but it didn't have the variance of a true magician... yet. [color=6ecff6][i]'Hand of the gods is.. a big pair of shoes to fill.'[/i][/color]