<div class="floatright">(http://fc09.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2013/049/b/8/cleric_copy_by_yamao-d5vddiv.jpg)</div>Glancing at some of the others who were probably magic-users, Anton shrugged his shoulders, the fully plated armor that surrounded him making the movement exaggerated. A gauntleted hand rose and rubbed at his trimmed goatee as he tried to think of how to answer the demon-woman. "Who's to say? Especially since there are different kinds of magic, from my understanding," his glances travelled between Jahtera, Velatha, and Holly, who all wore little enough that they might be of the arcane variety. "I'm sure someone here could explain to you the difference; all I know is that the armor that protects me does nothing to my spellcasting. On the other hand, I've heard others complain that they cannot complete their own spells when clad in the armor that allows me to wade into the thick of things, and are forced to stand behind and throw their spells from afar. But who can tell?" he shrugged.<br/><br/>"There might be even more than that--I once heard a story of a mage who wielded powerful magic, and could do it while gagged and hogtied with no gestures, words of power, or even a focus of any kind, duplicating the effects that others required all of those to do. Who knows what kind of strange things lurk out there at the corners of the world," his tone became more quiet and introspective as he pondered the meaning of the riddle himself. "Regardless," he looked up again, "you have the abilities. Tomorrow we will speak of renewing the contract--if you don't abuse the power I've given you," he added darkly, eyes shadowed. He wondered what would happen on the morrow--would he end up giving in to her request, to the King's? Or would he find some excuse for failing her, for decrying her, and perhaps even for purging the group from her and the other tiefling's presence altogether? Regardless, only time would tell, and he would see what the morrow brought when it came.