[h3]Sir Yanin Glade[/h3]

	The human knight paused, if ever so briefly, when the foreign woman admitted to a slight misjudgement on her part, thanking him for assistance, and reckoning they'd be even now. It was only fair; he'd asked her to spend her limited reserves first, in a very literal sense. 
	"So it would appear," he acknowledged her words, though his attention on either her or anyone else making preparations in the rooms felt somehow cursory, even with his metal armor being already predisposed to not having any particular expression.
	Down in the hall, Freagon was inquiring Deo'Irah if she'd noticed any other divines, which was entirely reasonable, and perhaps also somewhat notably, Lhirinthyl stated one single word: "Inefficient." Perhaps at himself, perhaps at Freagon - it was the other declared knight the deigan mage was staring at. He could tell [i]that [/i]much. It would appear that the human knight and Lhirinthyl were in agreement, after all. 
	He himself meticulously ascended the stairs with both weapons held in high guard. Nearly silent, further obfuscated by the bustle of people running back and forth to retrieve whichever weapons they saw fit or inspecting and cleaning their own, and exchanging last words. 

	Three windows, two doors, one closed, one open, signs of battle. He observed everything, watching for motion, listening to sound. Even smells, if there were any of note - though, for the time being, that of smoke was rather overpowering, covering up the milder undertones of blood, stone, lightning and metal. Almost, but not quite strong enough to unpleasantly sting eyes. 
	The attention he spared for the open door was keener, every step higher revearing more of the corridor leading away from it as it hung there, unassumingly swung open into the hall and away from him. It would have been conceivable to someone to stand hiding behind it, yet nothing sprung forth. Just deceptive stillness, and more of the building's west wing. One more door, in the southern wall, and another after it. Both closed. Nothing unexpected in the rest of the room. 
	No motion. But a faint sound - the same sobbing he had heard before, from approximately the same location. There was no doubt that whoever was there, or adjacent, had heard the commotion. Not that the wraiths and ghouls were particularly subtle - the fighting would have resonated through the chambers, loud and clear - but also their words. 
	Unavoidable, perhaps, at least with this level of coordination. For all their presumed having fun, the frentits had, in contrast, seemingly acted on a definite cue at least once. They knew. It knew. [i]He[/i] knew they knew. And potentially all the way down from there. 
	On one hand, it could have been better to shut up entirely and keep adversaries guessing. On the other, the absence of something could mean as much or more than the presence of something. Beware of forests where birds don't sing. Silence was, sometimes, [i]blatant. [/i]

	Chair. More blood. Fur, if not from someone's garments - none of the ghouls had been wearing anything matching - then from the Melenian. Vials? Blood tracked to first door. A thin line of light beneath the open door, no one standing behind it. For the time being, Yanin stopped advancing entirely.
	Lhirinthyl was asking Freagon to accompany him - it was, at the very least, somewhat logical. Preparing magical spells could take time, time during which they were [i]comparatively[/i] defenseless. Did it meant he had judged himself to have enough energy left to throw around lighting one more time? Something more than that? 
	"Do you have something in mind, Lhirinthyl?" Lhirinthyl might have incidentally noticed - due to his unusual proficiency in languages and seeming ability to not have a distinct accent - that Yanin was pronouncing his name akin to someone speaking a bit stiff Fermian with a vague Rodorian accent.
	Even as he spoke, he pointed at Deo'Irah with his hand - a bit awkwardly, since his thumb and index finger were bound up with the truncheon, leaving only three armored fingers free to refer to anything -, then turned his palm toward the ground, motioned 'low' twice, then turned his hand over once more to beckon her closer. 
	"We can presume the summoner, if alive, if quite heavily injured," another trick was always an option, "There are also two small vials on the floor. Might confirm what Madara was saying had been inferred earlier."

	If Irah had moved up in the interim - potentially to a cople steps higher to make leaning closer easier -, he would ask, in a very low voice, "You can hear from here. Are you able to tell if there is a mundane in there, and if so, are they in the same room?"