((he's basically attempting to slow time in the local area down to a glacial drip, just fyi))<br/><br/><span style="color: navy">“Well… I do have one that might be helpful.”</span>Garret replied, sounding somewhat unconvinced with the statement… Things would have to be done fast and his particular school didn’t really allow for most spells to be cast in a speedy manner. He holstered his revolver and swore, his breath visible as the temperature decreased drastically… So the Troll was a frost mage, Garret couldn’t help but be a tad surprised. Interesting facts about colleagues would have to wait though.<span style="color: navy">“It’s gonna take a moment to cast though… so you need to try and keep em off me for a bit,”</span>He didn’t wait for a reply, but immediately began his spell.<br/><br/>Slowly Garret stepped back away from the table, focussing his mind as he began to tap into his reserves of power, dredging up an incantation from the recesses of his memory. A low chant began to slip past the chronomancer’s lips, an ancient form of draconic long since forgotten by any living being. The black runes embossed upon his coat began to glow with a dull blue light and the spaces between his fingers began too crackle with nigh constant static discharges, all the while Garret’s recital of the alien formula began to grow slightly louder and more audible. His hands were the last part to join in the casting, each separate hand beginning to draw a long series of complex geometric runes and sigils with nigh unnatural grace. Perspiration began to form on Garret’s brow and his veins began to bulge as the mental strain increased. Despite Zer’s little intelligence boost Garret’s casting process still proved to be difficult, it didn't help that he had to exclude Zer from the damn thing as well.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>