"Of course it did, or I wouldn't have accepted you heading off alone to rescue my dearest daughter. Especially not after you gave her a pair of items worth more than some of the greater mansions here in town. Did you think I didn't notice that she was suddenly no longer frail and sickly, but heartier and more hale than any of my children? I suppose the real question is, what is a sorcerer of your status doing in a world such as this that you have no ties to? Certainly not hiding, because you're doing a rather poor job of that." "What are you, then, really?" his daughter asks, her voice indicating she already suspects some of the truth. "You, who creates intelligent constructs and creatures of fantasy, who calls upon armies of demons and faces down fifty armed and armored men, without an instant of hesitation, and permanently binds spells that even our greatest mages can barely bring into being?"