Around this man sat a strange assortment: a human woman, another Dalish, a dwarf, and a Qunari. Could these really be them? Leliana certainly had put a strange group together if this was the case.
"I'm Alatha, Leliana sent word of you, Andaran atish’an sister, glad to have you along.”
And with that all doubt ceased; these were the people she was looking for.
“Andaran atish’an,” she replied with a nod.
He continued to greet the Qunari and begged them to either sit or sleep. She cringed at the thought of the latter. Any bed in this place was nothing she wanted a part of. She opted for the table, besides, it would be rude to leave so quickly. She quietly sat down at the round table, just across the the one who she now knew to be Altha and listened as everyone one-by-one spoke.
It would be the Qunari who would speak first just as drinks would hit the table. Affront her a flagon of some form of beer. The smell was so strong she swore she could taste it just by it sitting there. Damn, she hated beer. Still, she did not want to appear rude, maybe if it was a human, or one of those brutish oxmen, but she was not about be rude to a brother.
She listened as the Qunari introduced himself and looked him over as she picked up the beer. While she had to admit she hadn't run across that many, she had yet to see a male so small. She shrugged it off as she raised the mug to her lips.
"And I am no Qunari."
The beer touched her lips and her tastebuds went alight and bitterness filled her mouth. She paused and forced the liquid down her throat, her face reddening with the displeasure she had just endured. She hoped the oxman Katari did not notice. They weren't known for their kindness or patience. She placed the mug back onto the table where this time it would stay undisturbed. She finished her social obligation, and wasn't intending to drink anymore anytime soon. The dwarf would speak up next.
Vavin was his name and traps seemed to be his game, maybe with a side of dark humor. The human would speak next, but only after pouring herself some wine. Her game was silent murder.
A Tal-Vashoth, a trap-making dwarf, a Dalish bard, and an assassin human... Leliana sure knew how to pick'em. What in the world was she doing here? Of course it could be merely egos talking but she seemed to be surrounded by very combat capable folks, but none in the traditional sense. Her use would be tested, no doubt. She was not the most sneaky, or the most deadly, but she did have one advantage to bring to the table. She held no outward appearance of a threat. She carried only a staff and no armor or blades of any kind. She was thin and as most elves appear to be, almost frail and young. No one would suspect the kindly little doctor elf.
It seemed to be her turn and politely spoke, “Ellavorn, but most I get called Ella. I work mostly with information, otherwise I tend to the wounded wherever I am needed. A pleasure,” she sealed with a small smile.