Incarne tilts their head and actually properly looks at the sword-scholar for the first time.

"You were there too?" came a reverbrating query.

Cadell looked skeptical for a moment, then chuckled. "C'mon guys, no need to so fervently state your snowflake status. I've had a far more experience with higher powers. I'll have you know that I recently consumed the infamous a jalapeño taco."

David nodded, begrudgingly, but with respect, "Impressive, I've heard of these peppers before, but, being immortal, I never had the need to eat them. I see people ingesting them and turning redder than hell's flames. Seems fun..."

Sighing, the swords master overheard Incarne's echo and turned towards him, "Wait, you too are Immortal and were at Solomon's crowning?" He turned away for a moment, then back to the being, "Interesting..."

[OOC: Holy shit someone noticed me. Also(turns into Incarne) can David hear the whispers?]

"It's.. complicated. Anyway, where did the rest of you hail from? We could use a history lesson."

[OOC: Holy crap it's a miracle. But for reals, I don't quite know what the whispers are, if you could specify.]

David smiled at the newcomer, "Come, join us friend, and listen to my tale of woe. Well, sort of..." The immortal began, gesturing wide with his hands for dramatic effect. "I hailed from Ancient Palestine, some five thousand years ago. There are no races that existed back then that still live on today, so you may simply call me Arabian..."

[OOC: Alright, I have to finish this because I can't interact normally and won't be able to. He's just disappearing because justify him leaving on his own.]

[OOC: I'm gonna agree with Urako, I got nothing more to do on here, and it seems all the main posters have kinda, died...]

David stood, retied his katana to his belt, and nodded to the remaining in the lounge. "Been a pleasure to speak with you." With this, he walked out of the room, out the two front doors, and into the open world.

The Prince snorted, wondering why he'd even come here. Not much was happening, that was for sure. Still...he didn't want to leave just yet.

"What do you think?" he asked his shadow, and the silhouette just shrugged helplessly.

Mr. Stinkfoot seemed to be considering leaving too; having been staring at the entrance door for a while. But since the Prince made no moves, neither did he.

"I'm staying." the Prince announced, mostly to himself. "I went through a lot of trouble coming here, so I'm not leaving until I want to."

The Lazarun looked disappointed.

They walked over to the Prince.

They observe for a moment.

Cadell waved towards the two leaving. "Well, darn. I suppose it was gonna happen eventually. Cya fellas."

Turning to the two newcomers, he smiled and extended a hand. "Sup. Cadell Mazda, at your service. Sorry about not greeting ya right off the bat. T'was wrapped up in a neat little conversation with these fine fellows here."

The Prince held the gaze of the two that were so annoyingly staring at him, narrowing his eyes.

"What?" he asked them, irritated.

Lazarun=singular,noun: A product of the Lazarus Directive.
(So unless pasta joins in, just one offender. Hint hint pasta)

(Dooms forgot that you were here. Trust me)

Hand walked over to the (mage? Is that correct terminology?) and waved, not being one for shaking hands.

(OOC: At this rate, I figure you're the same person on two accounts. It isn't completely wrong to refer to Cadell as a mage, but it'd be a bit of an exaggeration.)

Hesitating a moment before pulling back his hand, Cadell waved in response. "Erm. Nice to meetcha...?"