Istrath found a parcel left for her. The metamagic rod inside was what she grasped first, as it was beautiful and powerful, she knew. Being an arachnomancer, her skills in spell-casting were not matched to the house of which she was a part, but it didn't make her helpless, instead of being powerful by force alone, she would use her spells in more ingenious ways, making each one a precisely honed blade in her arsenal.<br/><br/>She opened the parcel further, reading the note left for her, and examining the efficient quiver she'd been given. She put it aside, and went to dress, slipping her rods, and her runestaff into the quiver before slinging it over her shoulder. It rested, like a travel bag, under her left arm, comfortably where she could retrieve her weapons and tools at a moment's notice. She was no archer, so slinging it across her back mattered little to her.<br/><br/>When she was fully dressed, she opened the door into the house, finding a servant waiting to request her presence for breakfast with the Matron. She dismissed him, and made her way to the dining hall.<br/><br/>As she passed through the door she was, perhaps understandably, confused. To her, it appeared as though the breakfast was made up of demons, and a much larger than normal Micar. Of course, she couldn't help but noticed similarity of one of the demons to the matron. A very naked matron. She could do nothing but assume Abduxuel had once again been using her powers in ways Istrath didn't care to comprehend.<br/><br/>"I feel as though I've come late to the meal," she said, "have I missed some developments, or am I about to die from some profound toxin affecting my brain?"