Gordon listened to Zatana’s comments and spoke upon her offer. “Unless you wish to assume the responsibility of bathing lady Drana, she will rest until she can clean herself properly with the use of her spell craft.” Gordon did not speak properly to Zatana, as a knight often held little regard to one who did not hold equal standing. The true reason was completely different. Gordon had yet to hear her name, and by his oaths to Lady Drana that meant that Zatana was to be treated as an unknown. “We will take her to your quarters where we shall make sure she is capable of resting undisturbed.” Gordon’s voice left little room for negotiation as he accepted Zatana’s offer.
“I am Sir Gordon, and my companion is Sir Stephan. We are both holy servants to the lady of death. You should do well to introduce yourself now that you have the proper chance.” Gordon’s voice was a mix of proper edicate and the directness and candor that came from a country man.
Stephan did not speak the entire interaction. His body, hidden by armor, seemed like that of a statue where Gordon’s moved with his voice. Stephan did not wish to wake lady drama before she could recover, nor did he see any need to hide from these people the truth should they be capable of discovering it.
“We will take instruction unless you feel urged to lead us.” Gordon said quickly, wanting to make sure that Drana was allowed to recover as quickly and as safely as possible. The fact that Zatana knew Drana’s title but had not hinted at his true nature told Gordon that the woman before him did not know the depth behind the holy words; The Sacred Order’s Cleric of the Dead.
Lady of Death was such an interesting title and the implications that went with it. It aroused Zatana's interest, though she held her court mask to not let such a show. "Of course, I am Zatana Aleana of His Royal Highness Prince Leonidas Lionheart's Royal Guard. " And more besides, but that had no hand in this situation. Gesturing that they were to follow her she decided to see what information she could wriggle out of this Sir Gordon. "I shall lead you to my quarters, while they are not much I do admit. They will suffice and I have no need of them." No, she had a Prince to keep alive and some of her own rest to get where a drunk and foolhardy man would not take it in their head that stabbing a drow in her sleep was a good idea. Royal Guard or no! "Your lady's aide was most appreciated. Though I wonder where such loyal knights were in such a tumultuous battle."
Gordon did not receive her introduction with the formality that would be expected of him. “It is our duty to follow the instruction of our holy cleric, Drana.” Gordon spoke flatly. Drana often used her name to open doors that would otherwise remain closed when far away from the black desert. Here, the title the Sacred order had to offer would be seen as an affront to the peace, rather than a bulwark against threats that endangered it. Gordon knew that Zatana was not a courtly woman simply by her race, a judgement he was not proud to make. It would be wise to let her know that they were not enemies. “It is wise to judge a knight by his weapon, not his armor.” Gordon said as he followed Zatana with Stephan. The two knights did carry weapons that were not piece tied. Gordon did not make it clear if he was referring to the cleanliness of his armor, but his own sword as well as stephan’s were sheathed. Drana stirred lightly in her slumber, but she did not wake up. She mumbled something about needing to stop a cave in before returning to silence. “If you wish to know where, you will have to ask our lady when she awakens.”
[color=SlateBlue]“Then I shall.” Though she doubted she would be the one to ask the questions, Zatana was intrigued by this odd trio. “For mine is not to judge but to gather the pieces and protect the whole.” A cryptic reply to Gordon’s questions, and a truth that the dark elf would not deny. Her’s was a job of information gathering and protection. Not to judge this knight and his companions. Though her suspicions were another matter entirely. “The room.” She gestured to the door with a politely neutral tone.
“I thank you, Zatanna. May we remain allies in future battles be they by sword or wit.” Gordon opened the door as Stephan waited for him to make room. AS soon as the door was open, Stephan moved into the room with Drana.
The dark elf inclined her head and nodded slightly. “And may you always be successful in your endeavours, Ser Gordon.” The man was amusing to Zatana, yet another person of wit. But it would not do to linger. Turning on her heel she stalked through the halls, mapping out the fastest way to Belthazar’s room in her mind.
Gordon made sure that Stephan was well to take care of Drana before stepping out of the room and setting off to make sure he understood the layout of this particular wing. The breathless nature of Gordon was a boon, however the sound of heavy plate was not easy to mistake. After briefly scouting the hall he had not traveled down with Zatana, he made his way to the door outside of Zatanna’s room where he unsheathed his sword. Stepping to the right of the door, he placed the tip of his sword on the floor and both of his hands on the pommel and fell silent. Unless a commotion was caused nearby, he remained as motionless as an empty suit of steel.
Stephan placed Drana in the bed without removing her clothing. He could not bathe her in such a state, such matters would require him to remove his gauntlets which she had strictly forbidden him to do. He did as much work as he could with a wet rag and left her be. Standing at the head of the bed, he did not unsheath his weapon as he stood silently in the dark.