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Ilpholin narrows her eyes a little. Should she be insulted Tauron is working on other projects while her life is in danger? He didn't seem to much understand common sensibilities. She tsks and turns to look out the window.

"That bad huh?" Ilpholin asks, grappling with a flurry of emotions. Should she have stayed with Adir? Is Mister Squiggles ok? Did she accomplish anything or did the demons just buffet her around again, like they've done for years? How had she grown so incompetent? That's a word she hasn't heard in a long time.

"If the choice is between death and extreme measures, of course I choose extreme measures. Anything less is just illogical." Though, with a swallow, Ilpholin admits that irrational choice to be tempting. Maybe Darcy was waiting beyond that option. Forgiveness from the crushing guilt. Darcy was a saint like that. She probably wasn't even that mad.

Ilpholin was though. It suffused her thoughts day in and day out. Her fists clench and she turns back to Tauron. "Besides, I have a war to win. Do what you must."