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Nehaalista had felt fairly satisfied that the other three had agreed to speaking (somewhat) peacefully. She did, naturally, harbor doubt about the Death Knight, but that could be rectified easily if that ~~odious, hideous~~ elf chose to bring her weapon.

As she'd promised, in a show of good faith, Nehaalista had entered the sensoriums weaponless. Her hand itched for the weight of her mace and arm ached for the familiar solidarity of her shield. She rubbed her hands together to dispel the wanting, and conjured up a simple stone-walled conference room in the Draenic fashion. Crystals floated above sconces, lending a warm light to the otherwise spartan room.

The conference table was square rather than rectangular - a show that all were equal in this discussion.

Before she'd gone to the bother of putting the post up, Nehaalista had prayed for guidance. Then she cheated a little by conjuring up images of the two elders she trusted enough to press her towards the answer she needed rather than what she wanted. Now, with everything in place, Nehaalista sat down at the table and steepled her fingers together.

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A runeblade was not simply a weapon. It was not something she could simply leave behind as requested.

Seviilia hovered darkly outside of the sensoriums in thought, frosted eyes narrowed. It hadn't been her intention to be deceitful, but she didn't trust this ship (or its patrons) enough to leave her runeblade, the fragment of what had been left of her soul, laying out in the open. She doubted the paladin (or anyone else for that matter) would understand her plight and thus chose to step into the room with the weapon in her hand.

She had paused momentarily to meet the eyes of Nehaa before setting the runeblade aside to the wall nearest to the doorway. "If you require an explanation, I will provide it," she stated simply, before the paladin could protest. Fully expecting some form of rebuking, she stepped into the room unarmed, wrapping her hand around the back of the nearest chair. "But I harbor no ill intentions this day."

Ever so slightly, Nehaalista's fingers clenched in the steeple and relaxed. Of course the death knight would have a "reason" for bringing a weapon to the proceedings. Of course, she could totally and undeniably be trusted. Just like the rest of her people.

Reining in those rather uncharitable thoughts, Nehaalista started signing. There was a good reason she was having the meeting here and not somewhere like the Dragon. She'd switched her signing from the clumsy over simplistic Common to the more fluid Draenic. [I require a full and detailed explanation, considering the one request I have issued has gone fully and entirely ignored. I do not know that my companion will take very kindly to this.] So explain, Seviilia. And explain well.

"She doesn't need to. I came with the knowledge of several hostilities, regardless of the nature of the meeting," she replied, tone a bit harder. "I hope you do not think me so naive. That aside, my runeblade did not accompany me for that reason."

There was a pause. "A runeblade is not simply a blade, paladin. It has a mind of its own. Without me, it could very well corrupt the mind of an innocent in its quest for a new wielder while its previous is away," Seviilia replied, struggling to keep the cold out of her tone, gesturing with one hand. "That blade is as much apart of me as your skull is apart of you -- you know, of course, what a runeblade can do in the wrong hands."

After all, Frostmourne had been just like every other vampiric runeblade before Arthas had stumbled upon it.

"I am not willing to take the risk -- if it troubles you so, then I shall take my leave."

Nehaalista fixed that bright, silvery-blue stare on Seviilia as she thought. If she hadn't been so long lived and bit more hot headed, then she would've cheerfully, and gladly used annoyed inflection in her voice. Well, "voice."

[Please listen to me carefully, then. In the future, if we have any more of these sorts of meetings, allow the magical department to hold your weapon, even if it is just a ward. I have faith that they know what they're doing.] If there was a whole department of them, and no one had blown themselves up, then they were competent enough for her. [It is not the most soothing solution, I know, but it is one that would make it easier on all involved.] Even Frostmourne had been sealed away once upon a time.

[You may sit. The proceedings cannot continue without all of us here, after all.]

And she did.

"I'll be the judge of that, when the time comes," she stated, legs crossing and arms folding. If it comes. If they were not up to her standard or worse, greedy with anything of the artifac nature, then she would simply remove herself from the meetings.

Her blade was far more important than these diplomatic proceedings that would come to mean nothing if Azeroth was ever restored.

"Well, you haven't killed each other yet, so that's a good sign." Cowabunga said as he entered, followed on his heels by Humar. He had, unlike Sevilia, actually come weaponless.

So too had Choline. She wasn't even in her typical armour; just one of the dark ensembles she'd picked up on Planet Vacation.

"Small victories," she said wryly, biting her tongue at seeing the death knight's weapon. Always excuses for why they must break conventions... oh well.

She sat down, and considered her next words to Sevilia. "If you absolutely must be armed at all times, going forward, the three of us should be allowed the choice."

"I have no qualms with that. As I stated to the paladin, it's not merely a matter of being armed," she remarked from her seat, glancing over to the tauren calmly.

"As I also said before -- if I really wanted any of you dead, I would have attacked you already," she sighed, pinching the skin between her eyes. This was getting tiresome.

Nehaalista drew back upon all the pent-up patience she'd stored her entire life and started signing quickly. The subtitles had a bit of trouble keeping up, [It is not "paladin", my name is Nehaalista. N-E-H-A-A-L-I-S-T-A. Properly said, it is quite a bit long with many more titles in it, but that is neither here nor there. It is perfectly fine to not bother your tongue with the length of my name as I also respond just as well to 'Nehaa.'

[Secondly, none of us are here for a pissing contest - though I'm sure he could outdo all of us and not try.] Besides, there was nothing that Seviilia could do that a well timed Exorcism wouldn't fix. [With that out of the way, shall we begin?]

"Fine by me."

"Yes. Let's continue." Choline leaned back in her chair and arched an eyebrow. "We are all that's left of Azeroth. That Nehaa is a paladin or that you are an undead crack addict -" she paused. "Sorry. A death knight or whatever? It doesn't matter right now."

She took a deep breath. "It might be wise for us to keep that in mind while we hash all this out."

Seviilia's eye twitched. "If it doesn't matter, then perhaps you should cease pointing it out," she bit back harshly. She was not so readily prepared to accept her present company.

"If you want to talk about magic addiction, perhaps I should point you to your ancestors," she commented before glancing back at Nehaa. "...Nehaa, then. What...exactly are we hashing out?"

She could almost hear the old Farseer chuckling at the situation. So much imbalance here and they seemed to constantly to on the verge of lighting a powder keg. It probably didn't help that both Nehaalista and Choline held... lingering prejudices for the blood elf.

She pulled a curl straight before allowing it to bounce back into place and started signing. [It would be prudent for the four of us to come to a decision regarding our behavior with one another despite our appropriate factions. This... truce, for lack of a better word, would also be imposed on anyone else from our planet, provided they wake up. In addition, should another paladin awaken, I'll make sure they don't try to bring a holy hammer down upon your head, Death Knight.]

Though, Nehaalista was fairly sure something like that was more instant reflex to purge evil. Well, that's what divine shields were for after all. [Aside from that, we all must realize that sooner or later, and most likely sooner, we're going to have to work with each other. If we can create a precedent now, the others will likely fall into it. Is this agreeable?] She glanced between the three of them, and tried to stamp out that slightly hopeful feeling she could feel making her barbels quiver slightly.

Choline grunted something that sounded approximately affirmative. "It could be said that arguing and fighting because of who did what back home is pointless. Right now, there is no home and I really think if we're going to have a chance of getting back there, we ought to at least learn to coexist peacefully." She shrugged. "If not actively help one another. It's no lie I harbour no love for you," she said to Sevilia, "but you're here, you're from home, and I think that counts for something. I'm sure I'll get over the blood elf thing. In time."

"And I, for one, have no particular issues with anyone here." the Tuarne said, ruffling his now purring lion idly. "About the only Alliance folks I do have issues with are those blits in the Stormpike Guard, so you can count on me to not attack you gals unless you start it."

Seviilia didn't answer and instead propped her chin up lazily on the back of her hand. There was nothing she could do here, and she wasn't ready to make enemies. Calmly, she closed her eyes.

"I hadn't a problem with anyone until the attacking began," she stated plainly. "I'm prepared to leave it if everyone else is." That might've been a lie -- but it was necessary.

Nehaalista wasn't so sure how much she trusted the death knight's statement, but kept that to herself. She'd just have to keep an extra watchful eye on her. As for the Tauren, it was much easier to trust a voice that was connected to a pulse.

[Well and good. Are we in agreement about whatever newcomers show up in our time here? That we include them too under this truce, even if your Warchief or Varian Wrynn show up?]

"Again, as long as no tries to attack me first." Cowabunga answered evenly. "If someone tries to stab me in the face, I reserve the right to beat the crap out of them for trying."

"I highly doubt Thrall will be the problem," Seviilia commented wryly with a smirk. "Last I recall, our Warchief was a rather diplomatic fellow. For an orc."

She waved a hand passively. "I have no qualm."

"Light knows we'd likely have to bind and gag Wrynn if he were to appear here," Choline said a bit sardonically. "If it comes to that, I'll do it."

"Same with Garrosh if he shows," The Tauren added. "Guy's an angry, loud idiot, and Earth Mother help us if there's any truth to those rumors about him being next in line to become Warchief."

Nehaalista seemed satisfied to let the others talk for now, discussing plans for their appropriate leaders. Still she did pipe up, [I promise there will be no issues with Prophet Velen.]

He was well over the 25,000 mark, after all, and had mostly left the art of war to younger draenei (though if she thought about her favorite old men... "younger" was only relative).

"The Reagent Lord has been rather useless, so I don't expect there will be any issues with him," she added quietly, eyes closing. She hadn't been alive for the fall of Prince Kael'thas, or to witness the deeds he committed against Silvermoon's Quel'dorei as a whole, but she had heard plenty of stories. It hurt her skull to think about.

"And the Highlord, in turn," she amended, eyes slowly sliding open again. Darion wasn't quite the renegade Sylvanas was, and now with the demise of the Lich King, she could see no reason why he would wish any trouble upon those who had assisted in his demise.

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