—Talonar tavern song Seething in the heart of a rage greater than he could ever remember feeling, Jalandral tried his best attack—and found it anticipated and easily blocked. The Raskshaula spellblade seemed to be waiting for him. How could this old fool—?! He hadn’t even realized he’d snarled that aloud until his smiling foe replied, “With ease and enthusiasm, young Evendoom. You snatch up spells and use them as handy tools, not bothering to learn all their powers or experiment with them overmuch. For you, it’s easier to coerce—or seduce—someone else who can work the magic for you. In my youth, we valued magic and Talonar more highly; spells and servants—to say nothing of kin—were too valuable to be casually used. Or thrown away.” Their blades crashed against each other and sang away, spitting sparks, but Lord Raskshaula added as if they were strolling in casual converse rather than seeking to slay each other, “Your shieldings betray your thoughts to mine, and so to me, so I can tell what you’re about to do.”
