Priscilla's face clearly demonstrated her emotions- puzzled and confused, with a slight hint of curiosity.

	As she gently felt and rubbed the strangely made and weaved fabric between her fingers- she was taken aback by how sturdy and seemless the work was, as well as how soft it was- she averted her eyes from the curious garment back to Jazelle.

	"You don't know anything, do you? Everyone knows of gorgons, and no one's surprised by them anymore. Or Lone Powers. Even I knew of them, and I was from one of the smallest villages. But you didn't ask about gorgons, so you do know [i]something.[/i]"

	She paused for a moment, summoning what she knew of those like her master.

	"Lone Powers are magicians of extraordinary strength. 

	"When one is weaker, or training, they always get jobs like anyone else, even if they're more suited to their abilities- there are many who make magical chests, armor, weapons, and more. Every army in the land employs at least a dozen combat sorcerers to help them fight, scout, or otherwise work for them. Every castle in the land is also secured with wards, royal magic advisers that make sure their King or Queen are kept up to speed on anything magical around them. Some serve on or with the White Council, which is sort of like an organization of unaffiliated magicians and sorcerers who only seek to uphold the law and peace. 

	"Lone Powers are magicians that are so powerful that they don't need to be employed, or stand with anyone else for power. A Lone Power could level one of those defended castles, or an army, usually. While almost all Lone Powers work with the White Council, everyone acknowledges that a single Lone Power could tilt the balance of peace and prosperity in the world. So, Lone Powers are sort of like official rogue agents. They keep to themselves, research magic, and take care of higher-level threats, as assigned to them by the White Council- who compensates them- and themselves. Each Lone Power knows the price of their strength; I've never heard of a Lone Power that meant ill- the ones that do are torn apart by their fellows."

	Priscilla leaned back, letting go of the strange shirt and letting Jazelle relax. Heavens, she was tense; she wanted to help, but didn't know how.

	"Do you have any more questions?"