<strong>Hracin</strong><br/><br/>The Dwarf looked around, watching the semi-organization go into effect.  Adepts were marshalling the younger, less advanced residents around.  He was a bit concerned for his wife, given that she'd become unnaturally quiet.  The lack of magic, even a connection to the energy may be draining her, he thought.  But, she was their only light source beyond the narrow windows, for the time being.  She'd be necessary.  At the moment, Hracin decided he was best out of the way of the others.  Slowly, surely, using his native senses, he made his way over to the gaggle of other ex-spellcasters near his, quite literally, glowing wife.<br/><br/>"Magi Hracin," he said, introducing himself to those who might not know him, "Since the adepts are taking care of shepherding . . . I suppose I should say, things aren't alwys like this around here . . . normally it's just rogue demons, strange hybrids runing amok, that sort of thing."  The little quirk of his lips sugested that he might be joking, or maybe not.<br/><br/><strong>Pytyar</strong><br/><br/>Finding his recent associate strangely silent, the weaponmaster went outside.  Someone would have to inform the students and others who weren't in the Tower.  They'd have noticed something worng by now, surely.  Assuming the lack of magic affected more than just the Tower.<br/><br/>-> To Grounds<br/><br/>(OOC: If ya'll want to find out the cause of the magic drain, you'll have to start looking yourselves.  :D)