Everything I Do
Sage Orum's Plaza is only a short distance from where Seldan and Malik now live. Certainly a step up from Goblintown, where Malik spent his first few years in Alexandria, in the attic apartment above the little gobber tavern. Yet still not quite the nobility district.
He and Seldan walk through the crowds near sunset, the students going about their day as lessons wind down, academics arguing among themselves and looking over assignments. "Did I tell you that a student showed up earlier?" he asks Seldan. "He thought I was an instructor. Me," the tsuran laughs. The great irony, of course, being that Malik and the Arcanists have never seen eye to eye, but have at the very least come to grudging terms with each other.
Glancing over at Seldan, he asks, "So. Is it working as it should?"
Seldan, even in this plaza full of academics, hardly looks out of place, in shirt, trousers, the open robe, and low black boots with a lightning motif. A man of means and magic certainly, and the steel holy symbol around his neck is prominently worn, but there's no hint of the armor that it actually is. "An instructor? At the Arcanists' Guild? I doubt you have any desire to do such a thing." He looks down at himself. "It seems to be well. It feels as it should, and looks not amiss, else would we attract eyes." Seldan's armor does indeed attract a fair amount of attention, especially in this part of town.
Malik nods. "He had an interesting question," Malik said. "Unusual, really. Something that I've only come across a time or two. I was rather impressed that he thought of it in the first place. But you're correct," he says, walking along peacefully. "I had to gently break the news to him, lest his actual instructors find out and have him scrubbing chamberpots as penance. Fools." Some things never change, no matter how much time passes. He looks over at Seldan, grinning as he looks the man's clothing over. "Not my area of expertise, but I think it looks natural enough."
Seldan chuckles at Malik's opinion of the arcanist instructors. "I think that you have done well. I have in truth devoted little attention to the crafting arts, but they seem to suit you well." He looks down at himself again, and sighs a little. "If I am to live at arms for a time, there is no sense in advertising such. I can sleep in it, if need be." He looks back up, and over at Malik. "Do you then mean to make a living of crafting?"
The wizard laughs brightly at the thought, raising a skeptical eyebrow at Seldan. "What? In all the free time that we've had of late?" It's not a 'no', per se. But it's not exactly an affirmation either. The skill is certainly there. "You're right though. Money will become an issue soon. Maybe..." He looks up at the Arcanist's building, frowning briefly. "Perhaps I'll see if a lecturer is needed."
Seldann turns an incredulous look at Malik. "You? Lecturing at the Guild? Next I'll see ...." He's laughing as he speaks, but tails off abruptly. He's still laughing, though. "I would not have you getting ideas. But ... you are right, come to that. Seldom does the Guild have need of me now, and I think the Guild uninterested in my expertise. Perhaps I should think on a means of bringing in an income."
Perhaps it is mere coincidence that, at the utterance of Power Word: Lecturer, Verna descends the trail down from the Redridge above. It is a common, and well-travelled (for her) path between the temple and the arcanist society. At present, no tome hovers before her for perusal and her hood is down and doffed.
Malik offers Verna a polite nod. "I stand corrected," he says over his shoulder to Seldan, the smile brightening a bit. "Not -all- of them are fools." As he walks past her, he offers a more polite, "Mourner. I hope the day is treating you well." And then, back to Seldan, "Well, I don't think we need fear anything so crazy as that." Apparently, that somehow ranks above mad immortal fae and rampaging archdemons.
Whatever Malik said draws a heartier laugh from Seldan. "I jest, of course. Do you wish to do so, I have no objection, though I know not if they will say the same. I had merely not expected you to desire to do so. Perhaps you have changed." He looks up at the fair skies, then down at himself. "Would that I knew what it was I would do, did the Guild no longer call."
GAME: Seldan rolls perception: (16)+5: 21 GAME: Malik rolls Perception: (1)+20: 21 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Verna rolls perception: (15)+22: 37
There's an alley off to the side between two shops which are nearly squished one into the other. There's motion in the alley of a kind that draws attention though it's hard to determine exactly why. Perhaps it's the brief cold wind that pushes outward from that direction. Perhaps it's simply instinct, but once attention has been drawn there you see it. A woman standing there. A woman who looks rather amazingly like Seldan. The paladin knows her of course. Instantly, without hesitation. She's got a man pressed up against the wall of the alley. A man with blonde hair and blue eyes who looks at her with confusion in his gaze and no small amount of fear. This is the motion that drew your attention. Well Verna's and Seldan's. Malik is distracted... by something else.
Verna notes Seldan, first, or perhaps intends to greet him, first, when Malik offers passing comment. "The day is well enough. As I noted to the Silverguard, it is a good day when there are no..." her words trail off as she turns back towards Seldan and notices motion in the alley. She attention remains there, lingering initially out of surprise, though of growing concern as the man's expression is not what one might typically presume of one in what might appear at a glance to be an impromptu amorous situation.
What drew Seldan's attention? It's hard to say, but he tails off, his eyes going wide, heart freezing in his chest. Without more warning than a suddenly tight, "Mal," he takes off at a run in the direction of the woman and the man, stopping perhaps two paces from them, drawing sigils in the air with swift and authoritative ease. They're the modified, simpler, and odd-looking sigils he often uses when in armor, but they seem no less effective for that.
He shouts the final word, then draws the crescent and sphere through all of the sigils, causing them to burst into blue-silver fire before him. Firmly grabbing his wits and his suddenly pounding heart, he gestures the sigils to the ground in what for him is agonizing slowness, but to others might be the space of a few seconds, letting them settle with the woman just at their edge.
GAME: Seldan casts Magic Circle Against Evil. Caster Level: 13 DC: 19
Malik looks like he's about to make some conversation, but Seldan is saying his name, and off he goes. Malik's eyes go wide, following in the direction that Seldan runs. "Mourner!" he exclaims, taking off after Seldan, moving into that circle of runes as he skids to a stop beside Seldan, looking ready for -- something.
GAME: Verna rolls spellcraft+4: (7)+28+4: 39
Verna perceives and parses the familial resemblance just as Seldan begins his spell. Interesting. She supposes that such might be one manner in which one might attempt to defend the honor of one's... sister(?) in a dark alley, if a rather novel one. It isn't until Malik darts after that she is more convinced all is not what it appears and she moves after the men. "What is it?"
The woman doesn't even look up as the spell is cast, but up close she looks far less... human. Her eyes are drowning black pits. Nothing to them but blind blackness that stares uncomprehendingly not at Seldan, but at the man she holds so effortlessly off his feet. She holds him by his neck against the wall and stares at him as his face turns different colors from the lack of air. She doesn't even seem to register anyone else, just this man who she holds as she leans in and bites him. He might have screamed, but her hand keeps him from being able to draw the breath to do so.
With one pained, almost screamed word, Seldan very likely explains a great deal. "-Mother!- Dispel it!" Without more hesitation than a whispered, "Guide my hand, Seeress," the spell having apparently failed, he closes the distance and -dives- for the woman, seeking to break her attention, break her hold on the man, tackle her to the ground. It looks like it should be an easy thing, and yet he puts every ounce he has into it.
GAME: Malik casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 14 DC: 17 GAME: Malik rolls 1d20+14: (7)+14: 21
Malik doesn't hesitate. He forms the words with rote precision, drawing forth the magic with an act of focused will as he wraps the woman in the shredding, scouring runes. Blue-white script briefly runs over her skin, though this seems to have no obvious effect. Malik simply shakes his head to Seldan, already able to tell that something isn't right.
GAME: Seldan rolls cmb: (18)+15: 33 GAME: Verna casts Halt Undead. Caster Level: 15 DC: 19
Mother? That is unexpected, especially in light of the terrified and pinned man, the bite from the same, and the protection spell. That said... well, her own mother really isn't so different. Taking one and one as context for two, she utters a quick spell in attempt to immobilize those generally of the fanged or pallid disposition.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (14)+20: 34 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d4: (3): 3 GAME: Seldan rolls fortitude: (7)+21: 28
Seldan's attack isn't effective against the woman who simply steps aside as he rushes her, but he is effective for another purpose. "SELDAN!" She growls his name and drops the man she's holding to gather her son up into her arms instead. With them standing so close to one another it's painfully clear that they're related. Without warning or prelude she sinks her too-long fangs into his neck while the other man she attacked starts to crawl away pitifully as quickly as he can, one hand up to try and stem the blood that is dripping from his neck.
GAME: Seldan casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 13 DC: 19 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+13: (13)+13: 26 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+6: (14)+6: 20 GAME: Malik casts Break Enchantment. Caster Level: 14 DC: 19 GAME: Malik rolls 1d20+14: (12)+14: 26 GAME: Malik rolls 1d20+14: (18)+14: 32
Seldan knew that was going to happen. That was his intent - that the innocent man should be freed - but now he's in her grip, and with his charms against evil useless, he's suddenly wide-eyed. "The ooze has her! It has her mind!" Even as her teeth sink deeply into his neck, he struggles to free a hand to cast, but it's no good - the sigils will not form with his limited movement. "Mother, fight. This is not you. I am here. She cannot have you, and neither can this -thing-. I will save you. Let me go."
"It can be dispelled!" Malik doesn't explain, leaving it at those words. Seldan is going down, Carissa has her fangs in his neck, and Malik -- has apparently had just about enough. He forms the mudras for a powerful protective working, blue-white fire flashing in his eyes as the wind picks up around him. He speaks the words authoritatively, reaching out a hand as the spells seems to settle around the woman, the magic attempting to rip away whatever spell is holding her.
GAME: Verna casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 15 DC: 18 GAME: Verna casts Chains of Light. Caster Level: 15 DC: 21 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+15: (3)+15: 18 GAME: Verna rolls 1d20+15: (18)+15: 33
"Understood!" Verna is quick on the uptake. It only requires both of them to yell about dispelling. She plucks a rod from her satchel and immediately looses an attempt to unravel whatever ensorcelment may be, without incantation nor gesticulation. This is followed by a contigency: a beseeching of The Dread Lady to entrap the woman in glowing chains, regardless.
The woman, who is clearly Seldan's mother holds him tightly. It's hard to tell if the spells have any effect on her until... The darkness fades from her eyes suddenly like a pool clearing to show blue eyes rather than blank black ones. Teeth recede into her mouth but she still holds her son in arms that are far stronger than they have any right to be. "I let her inside my head. I let her in and I can't get her out again." She's crying, black tears staining her cheeks. "How many times? How many times can she make me hurt you?" She shakes with the force of her tears, and she shudders. "My hands will not listen. Why won't they listen?"
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+23: (4)+23: 27 GAME: Seldan rolls cmb: (12)+15: 27 GAME: Malik rolls Sleight of Hand: (3)+18: 21
"It is me she wants, Mother." Seldan's gaze locks with hers, even as he wiggles in her grip, unable to free himself. He's going to at the very least have some terrific bruises. "Mal, the anchor spell. Listen to me, Mother. She knows I oppose her. We have already destroyed her vampire lackey. You cannot hurt me. I love you, and I do not fear Her. Nothing you say or do will change that. I am coming for you, and for her. Trust in me, and in the strength and wisdom of the Seeress. Hold fast."
Malik sees the moment of recognition in her eyes, sees the struggle stop -- and takes advantage of it. He reaches up for his neck, hand moving to the little silver medallion there -- which suddenly seems to appear around Carissa's neck. It might do something. It might not. "Carissa," he says, quietly. "You can fight her. You're stronger than this. This magic cannot, will not beat you."
GAME: Verna casts Arcane Sight. Caster Level: 15 DC: 18 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (7)+20: 27 GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d4: (4): 4
Verna can see that the immediate controlling effects upon the woman, whatever they may be, appear suppressed, at the least. Whether they are gone or what else lingers remains to be seen. In fact, to better make it seen, she utters a brief spell to make the flow of mana visible to her.
Carissa looks up at Seldan's words. "You have changed so much... Grown up." She blinks back her tears, tracing her fingers over his face gently and then darkness descends again, blackness covering her eyes like a veil and her teeth growing long as the magic takes hold of her again. A small moment of freedom it seems. "I love you Seldan." She whispers it like a fervent prayer and then her hand is a crushing grip on the back of his neck to hold him in place for her teeth. Spilling his blood again into her mouth, spilling so much of her blood that she can't even drink it all. She's killing her son and she doesn't seem able to stop herself.
GAME: Seldan rolls wisdom: (19)+3: 22 GAME: Seldan rolls cmb: (3)+15: 18
Woozy now and gasping for breath, Seldan struggles mightily in that impossibly strong grip, nearly wrenching a shoulder trying to free himself. It's all to no avail, of course. "Kol. She's like Kol. The ooze ... it's ... it's carrying some of him," he murmurs. Whatever is he talking about?
Malik pulls a small dagger from his belt, face hardening as he sees those eyes go black again. "Come now Carissa," he tells the woman, taking a step closer. "Don't be rude." He runs the knife swiftly across the palm of his hand, making a deep, dark cut there. Blood as black as midnight flows out from the wound, onto the street below. "You haven't given your future son in law a hug yet. Surely I'm deserving too..."
If the ooze is carrying a part of Kol, Malik's face would be familiar enough. He saw Kol's laughing corpse dissolve under the waters of the broken fountain. Maybe it's good enough... maybe.
He moves that cut hand directly in front of her face, the coppery-warm smell inches from her nose.
GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/arcana: (5)+12: 17 GAME: Seldan rolls knowledge/religion: (16)+13: 29
It's not an immediate response. Carissa's jaw works on her son's throat as she sucks the life out of him, but then something seems to... slow her? Her eyes blink and she looks up, mouth moving away from Seldan's skin and she looks at Malik's hand as if it appeared out of nowhere. "S-son-in-law?" She talks like someone half-drugged, or perhaps too deep in their own thoughts. Her arms loosen just a fraction around her son. Her head tilting to the side as if she's listening to a voice that only she can hear.
GAME: Seldan rolls reunion: aliased to weapon1: (13)+18: 31 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d8+7: (7)+7: 14
Seldan takes advantage of the moment of distraction to pull his sword from its sheath. "Mother, forgive me. I have no choice." So saying, he whips the sword across her body, leaving a deep gash that bleeds jet back, just as Malik's wound does. And then ... it slowly starts to knit. Of course. "Mourner, summon daylight!" he shouts, his words uneven and slurred. "As one would fight a vampire!"
Verna does not have the luxury to put much thought into the implications of Malik's offering or words before Seldan calls out. That could be a wonderful plan and option... were Verna capable of it. So, she is similar to a vampire, and yet not? Is it the black within her that controls her flesh?
She does not care to see him draw and strike her; while it makes their discussion that very morning quite ... prophetic? and the logic is present.... No. He shouldn't be forced to do this. If it is her flesh that does not obey her mind, than possibly she can render the threat inert. Without destroying the mind. She has slain enough allies or innocents for the week, thank you.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+18: (12)+18: 30
Malik nods, offering Carissa a warm smile. He holds up his hand, displaying a ring of polished wood, nodding to one that Seldan wears on his other hand as he moves closer. "That's right," he says, reaching that hand out to her once again -- as if asking her to take it. "Son in law." The rings match, and he seems sincere enough in the words. "You've been away for so long that you haven't had time to find out yet." He steps closer still, showing no fear, just confidence and that easy, bright grin. "I'm glad that we have a chance to talk about it. Finally." He's feet away from her, glancing down at Seldan, and then back up to Verna, before locking eyes with Carissa again, bright blues into deepest black.
There's a look of horror and pain on Carissa's face as she's cut, but her attention is quickly drawn away from her too-quickly healing injury and toward Malik. His words cause her to release her son like a dreamer uncertain that they're allowed to do this thing. "Seldan loves him." Her words are oddly out of sync, but she sounds surprised by the very words she says. "But... Seldan loves him." A softer reply, as if she's talking to herself, or perhaps someone else entirely. She takes a step toward Malik, her hand reaching out toward him. "She wants you to come with me." The woman blinks and she's crying again softly. "But Seldan loves you..."
GAME: Seldan casts Dimensional Anchor. Caster Level: 13 DC: 20
"Malik, NO!" Seldan staggers back away from his mother, hand going automatically to his neck. He is positively soaked in blood down that entire side, but his eyes are wild on Malik. "Do not target him!" He drops the bloodied hand from his neck, tracing swift and panicked-angry sigils in the air, then stabs a finger at Carissa. Green fire shoots in a ray from his fingertips to envelop her.
GAME: Malik casts Dimensional Anchor. Caster Level: 14 DC: 18
Malik nods, swallowing hard as he looks to Verna and Seldan, giving them a faint nod before looking back to Carissa, speaking rapidly. "But that would hurt Seldan. And his mother would never hurt him. She would fight for him, with all her strength." Malik sees what the paladin is doing, watching as the spell hits. He quickly mimics the same spell, this time turning his palms inward and letting that green, shimmering field envelop him as well. "And now she can't hurt you, either."
"Try not to move too quickly, so I can tend you before you fall unconscious," Verna notes to Seldan. Not that she would be surprised in the slightest were he to run off, considering the situation. At least it seems that fewer could be relocated against their will, now. She then begins to beseech The Gray Harpist to restore Seldan's vitality, though it will take several moments.
GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+20: (18)+20: 38 GAME: Verna casts Undeath to Death. Caster Level: 15 DC: 22
Seldan's mother's eyes are still black, her wound completely healed save the stain of black blood on her. She reaches out and touches Malik on the face so gently. "I do not want to kill him." She whispers the words, not to anyone here, not to anyone visible at least. Someone maybe in her mind alone. She draws perilously close to the mage. "If you will not come by choice..." She makes a sorrowful sound in the back of her throat, fingers curling into Malik's face. Her whole body is trembling, black starts bleeding out of her ears and she seems to be as Malik suggested - fighting with everything she has not to do anything that'll hurt him.
On the ridge, the massive bronze bell tolls in a single loud peal, just as Carissa reaches. Whether it singles the hour, a new arrival to Vardama's True Hall, or simple the result of an unladen swallow's excessive velocity and poor aim is unknown. In any case, it provides a momentary distraction.
GAME: Seldan casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 13 DC: 19 GAME: Seldan rolls 1d20+13: (15)+13: 28 GAME: Malik casts Dispel Magic. Caster Level: 14 DC: 17 GAME: Malik rolls 1d20+14: (20)+14: 34
"Mal, fly!" Seldan shouts as the woman stops just short of grabbing him as well. He tries to take a step towards the two of them, but staggers and slumps dizzily against Verna instead, using the Mourner to hold him upright while he traces the sigils of another dispel. The familiar spell flows from him, and despite perfect placement of the spell, his focus with the blood loss simply is not sufficient to pierce the thing.
Malik seems to have the same idea as Seldan, not flying as directed. He takes a single step backward, raising a hand and calling on the magic one more time. The same scouring, burning runes wrap around the woman one more time, absolutely perfect in their execution, Malik's spell coming on adrenaline and desperation and an understanding of spellcraft that goes beyond what even some of the Learned Sages of the Arcanists can claim to possess, even at his young age. He takes a breath, hoping that this time, it's enough.
Verna is not much of a load-bearing structure, but she catches the leaning Seldan as best she is able. The one hand she can spare wraps partially about him for support as the other continues to gesture. She cannot comment mid-incant, but would, pray tell would she say? 'Sit still while your husband and mother battle one another, possibly to be both whisked away for centuries of tedious and insidious torture.'? Well... yes, she -could-, so it may be best that she cannot.
Carissa's hand falls as Malik steps away, as his spell sinks into her and clears her eyes for a second time. Once more she's free of whatever controls her and she makes a pained face as if she was hurt by the action. She brings her hand close to her chest and she sends a panicked look over to Seldan. "I do not want to hurt you. I am so sorry." She turns her blue eyes on Malik and she half reaches toward him, not with the intent to harm, but as a mother might reach out to the man her son loves. "Take care of him for me."
She chokes on the words and then rushes away in a quick motion, half-stumbling out of the alleyway and onto the street. She doesn't look back. Doesn't dare take the few moments it might take away from her to see her son again.
GAME: Malik rolls Diplomacy: (11)+6: 17 GAME: Malik rolls Diplomacy: (4)+6: 10
Seldan's head snaps up as his mother runs off, and he makes like he wants to start after her, but another surge of dizziness washes over him, and he grabs for Verna's sleeve. "Where ... is she going? I would ... see her into the dungeons ... she will be safe there, for now ...."
Verna cannot answer Seldan's question, and not only because she is still finishing the spell to restore him. She does not know the answer, though at least one of them is free
GAME: Verna casts Restoration. Caster Level: 15 DC: 19 GAME: Malik rolls 1d100: (57): 57
Malik flies after the woman. Literally. He seems to be moving faster than a normal run can sustain him, appearing in front of her as he holds up a hand. "Forgive me, Lady Padaryn, but we've little time to talk this through. If you come with me, I can guarantee your safety. And ours. Please?"
The woman seems to be having no part of it, however.
Malik moves along after her, eyes glancing out at the staring faces taking in the spectacle, anger rising up in him. "All of you claim to be masters of your arts! Dismissive of my ideas. Will none of you help me?! Are none of you keen to prove your superiority and put the reckless transmuter in his proper place?"
It seems that at least -one- of the Senior Enchanters takes him up on his offer, talking to the woman with a much more honeyed tongue as Malik simply stands in the square, face burning as so many eyes are upon him. Again. Though he only takes a moment, moving after her to ensure she gets safely to her destination, sparing a glance over his shoulder for Seldan and Verna.
It's promises that the man can lead her to a place where magic can not touch her that leads Carissa to finally give in. She doesn't look like she believes a word of it, but... Maybe there's some hope there also. Hope. It seems such a small funny word of late.
"You have my thanks, Mourner," Seldan says, straightening as the spell takes hold, real gratitude in his tone. "Come, let us aid Malik. I would see her safe, and there is no time to lose." With that, he moves to join the others.
GAME: Seldan rolls diplomacy: (19)+17: 36
"Indeed," Verna responds, now that she's able, and darts after Seldan to catch up to Merek and his Mother in Law.
Malik simply follows them inside, waiting to see that everything is taken care of. He doesn't seem to care if eyes are on him. Again. And he certainly doesn't speak, letting Verna and Seldan handle that. When Carissa is secured, he moves off to one of the darkened corners, sliding down the wall and resting his head against the cool stone, trembling.
GAME: Verna rolls diplomacy+4: (17)+11+4: 32
It's a lot of explaining, but Seldan knows the guards and the guards know Seldan. So maybe there's fewer questions than there might have been otherwise. Every second that Seldan's mother isn't locked up feels like one too long, but eventually she's carefully escorted down into the arcanist's dungeons to her own private cell and... well you can answer the /rest/ of the questions that come. The only hiccup that comes is when Seldan's mother sees him - and she tries to run away lest she hurt him. Then it's the guards keeping her in place, leading her down into the dark where she'll be safe.
Seldan watches, haunted, as she is led down into the dark of the arcanist's dungeon, then turns away when he can see her no more. He'd already, somewhere, cleaned Reunion and sheathed it again, and turns away, looking for Malik. The blood on himself - nothing. That will come clean with a spell. His shoulder that he wrenched trying to get free will be unhappy tomorrow, but that is similarly nothing or nearly so. He'd ... struck his own mother ... trying to stop Salina's madness. How low can she go?
Verna watches, as well, noting without turning, "I will do all in my power to see that she is contained and well cared for until a solution can be found." It is not much, but the words hopefully offer more solace than the options available to her moments past.
Malik is exactly where he should be. Sitting just on the inside of the edge of the antimagic field, looking out, back against the wall as he keeps that cloak wrapped around him. He looks to the mourner first, offering her his best smile. "Thank you," he says. "I'll do what I can to repay your kindness. Just name it." And then, back to Seldan. "Is she finally safe?" There's a small tremble in his voice. "It's my fault that she was taken. I had to make sure she wasn't taken again. I'm sorry."
Seldan folds his arms across his chest. "You did everything in your power ... and I fear that you yourself are now in danger from her. Why did you speak of us?" He offers the man a hand to stand. "I am left with no choice. We move against Endless Winter, -now-." Worry in his tone is about that far short of outright terror. "I would not have her take you from me as well. Come, we should return home and see to the wards."
Malik starts to smile -- and it's cut off just as quickly. He gives a nod, already having considered that himself. "Better me than her," he says. Though they both know that his mind isn't exactly strong against powerful enchantments. Or any other enchantments. He reaches up to his neck, remembering that the amulet he was wearing is now on Carissa -- and probably quite useless, if the results are to be believed. "Indeed. Let's make haste."
-End