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With a grin, Zevemar turned to the front door and stared down at the handle. He felt the shape of the spell curled up in the back of his mind, fresh and strange but bristling with possibilities. With a thought, he expelled it from inside his head through his mouth, the incomprehensible words of power he muttered acting as a conduit and the lock as the target. There was a satisfying click as the door unlocked itself and then a hollow boom as the spell's discharge echoed off the local houses. It was by no means a subtle spell, attracting attention to itself whenever it was used. Zevemar assumed that its creator had intended this, meaning to hinder any who would use it for its obvious effectiveness in illicit activities.

Stepping out with Quilla on his right shoulder and his staff in his other hand, the young half orc felt pretty content. After all, he had two fresh spells in his book, his father had been glad to see him and was well occupied with work and, best of all, he didn't have to stay in Alanla for too much time. Io would probably be done with shopping by now and they'd be able to leave in the morning, not dwelling long in this town of loudly whispered remarks and suspicious glances.

It was perhaps this sense of ease that led Zevemar, never one to remember the layout of streets as well as he did the footnotes of history, [abbr=Investigation Roll: 3 + 5 = 8]down the wrong lane, up the wrong street and right round the bend[/abbr]. Within half an hour he was both totally lost and convinced that someone had moved all the house in the town while he'd been away. It took him another half an hour to get back on the right track and finally find the market square, a full seven hours after Io had set off. While Zevemar had rarely met anyone with the patience for shopping that she had, he somehow doubted she was still in the area.

Still, how much mischief could she [i]really[/i] have gotten into in that time?