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	[color=89cff0][i][u]Too much was happening too suddenly,[/u][/i][/color] Annalise couldn't help but feel, as Magnus pushed her back, and the Holstaur offered her up for combat against a seasoned warrior and something she couldn't predict without seeing it. Her armor hid her panic, as she stumbled back a fair bit from Magnus's brute strength (even controlled), and tried to take her lance in hand; only for her “fingers” to pass through it, and absorb it back into her core. '[color=89cff0][i]No! No! No! Don't panic! Don't panic![/i][/color]’ she tried to calm herself, but, she couldn't. ‘[color=89cff0][i]It doesn't change! Nowhere changes! It's still the same![/i][/color]’

Annalise resisted a scream in frustration, as she covered the lance's hilt-less state with her hands. How she'd struggled to travel to that Guild Hall -- hoping to live somewhere that she wouldn't have to fight against her will; somewhere she wouldn't be attacked on sight; somewhere she can wouldn't have to live in the form of a chest to survive the night; somewhere she could eat richly without risking her life in unneeded combat. '[color=89cff0][i]He tricked me. I let him trick me![/i][/color]’ thought the Mimic Slime, as she could feel her armor thinning; being absorbed to call out a better one, a fighting one.

“[color=89cff0]Fine,[/color]” Annalise says, as she couldn’t hear Magnus whispering, and defusing the fights, “[color=89cff0]I'll accept your proposed fights.[/color]” Turning on her heel, Annalise started to leave, “[color=89cff0]I need to prepare, first,[/color]” and set off to find a secluded locate to bring up a stronger set of armor. Close-quarters combat wasn’t her forte, so she needed time to think and look within herself for the right kind of armor and weapon.
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