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Matasoga was not a telepath, by any means but he was a half-breed himself and his closest friend had been half-goblin as well. He faced a great deal of hate in his life as a result, but his friend had seen far more, as goblins were hated but not feared as his members of the race of his paternal lineage. Without another word, he walked, hands folded behind his back beneath his cape, tail slowly sweeping from side to side behind him as he silently bid her to follow.
When they were in the room containing nothing but the stairs and completely alone, he stood, his back turned to her.
"This," he said, without turning, after the doors had closed behind them "is a safe place for the inhuman. Vampires and their ilk are largely not welcome here and even the few vampiric members are never to feed on this ground, under any circumstances, but all others, particularly members are welcome here.
"I can't be entirely sure if this is in any way related," he said, now turning to face her, "but if I read correctly what I saw in your face and unearthly look of your eyes was not a mere trick of the light then you've nothing to fear within these walls." Indeed, his indications were very few. Were he not raised to see the unusual quality held by the inhuman and the fear of bigotry as an expression on such a face almost every day, he'd have never have caught it. Perhaps he was simply grasping at straws.
"After all, the only ones allowed to travel freely here are those who have pledged their loyalty to such a half-breed," he said.
He hoped that she would take note that he had not asked her anything. He was feeling enough of a kinship, based just upon his assumption that he decided that he would wait until she was comfortable enough to tell him, but he didn't want to bring it up and then discard it if she wanted to speak of it now.
"Now... Would you like to speak of anything while we're alone, or would you rather continue the tour?" he asked, softly.

"Very well," he said, his voice returning to the way it was before, his cape swishing as he abruptly turned and descended the grand staircase. His gait was so even that it almost appeared that he was floating down them, as his fedora top descended smoothly rather than bobbing as it would upon the heads of most.
She hadn't said anything, but in deciding not to, it was better than an admission. His new arrival was not human, at least not entirely. He'd unravel her mysteries in time.
"Down here we have the archives. There's not much, here. Mostly I just want you to dust and keep things tidy, but it won't take much of your time. No one comes down here much," he said, avoiding any mention of the thing that lived down there and the secret tunnel... At least for now.
"The closet contains other records and the Room of Recollection at the other end contains mostly old photo albums and other pictures from holidays in the past," he said.
At this point, Matasoga's voice became distant. "You'll recognize some of the faces from upstairs, but others seem to never come by any more."
It wasn't as though any had died, so far as he knew, but he did think of the old days and how things used to be, once in a while.
"If you'd like," he said, his voice returning from the shift, which was subtle to begin with, "you can look through them and familiarize yourself with the others. The same goes for the records in the Archives. Many old conversations are recorded there.
"Oh, just make sure that you don't go moving boxes around too much. They're organized, as they are," he said. If she was an elf or a dwarf her innate abilities to notice hidden entrances or unusual stone working may tip her off. He knew that she was neither of these, but she wasn't sure if her blood may give her similar abilities. She would know about it when he was ready for her to know.
"Would you like to see the rest of the house, now?" he asked.

"Very well," he said, deciding that he'd show her the art gallery and the second floor, later. He took her directly up to the third floor.
He stopped by the barracks and said, "Unfortunately, we're still finishing the servant's quarters. For a few days, you'll need to sleep here.
"You're welcome to any of these fainting couches," he said, gesturing the the Victorian, bed-like pieces, each with it's own thick blanket. There's a foot-locker attached to the foot of each and you can draw the curtain for privacy.
"At the end of the week, you'll be able to have your pick of the room in the servant's quarters, but even this should be better than a cage," he said.

((sorry my parents took my computer away so i couldnt responed yesterday ))
Phoenix looked around at the couches. she turned back to were he was but the man was gone "Oh" she said to her self seeing he was not there. She desided on a couch in the corner of the room near a window, she pulled the curten, then sat down on the couch. She sighed looking out the window at the sunset. she stared out at it and thought of her self flying across the sunset like she used to do before she was captured. Sighing again she layed down on the couch and fell asleep.

Matasoga was leading his new acquisition to his manor.
"I think you'll like it he-" but stopped when a blackened, smoldering object flew out of the window and landed at his feet. With a deadpan expression, he looked up from the burning object that flew in his direction with no warning in time to see the window close and after a moments thought, realized that that would be the window to the barracks.
He nudged it with his toe and noticed stuffing below the blackened surface. had this been a pillow? Hm. He would need to have a talk with the other one.
For now he ignored it and continued, speaking no further word on the topic before continuing "I think that you're going to like it here," as he stepped over the pillow and lead her further up the path.

Phoenix notices motion out the window, it was the man and a new person , she looked like a slave or somthing to Phoenix. She saw them stop at her burnt pillow. "Oh.....shoot" she says to herself and closes the window a secound time trying to make it look like it wasnt her who threw the pillow out the window, she fixed the couch again then she sat back down on the couch this time faceing away from the window

He was quick to arrive at the barracks and saw the fainting couch upon which she had slept was indeed scorched, but there seemed to be no other damage.
"Pheonix, dear" he said, with only a slightly terse edge. "A word, please."