Utter defeat it is. Antares watches as his carefully wrought appeal shakes, collapses, crumbles, and finally catches fire. He was rather fond of it too....
"Though I do feel that 'random' is perhaps too strong in this context? I cannot -ah- I cannot speak for all others, oh ladies of the round table, but there is most assuredly reason behind, above and to all sides of all that I do." Not necessarily *good* reason, argues the echoes of his absent sire (and who indeed is he to contradict him considering his present circumstances?).
A step into the (occupied!) lair of tea and draped curtains - accompanied by a sliding, slightly wide-eyed parting look at brown-haired Stellan, still hidden - and then all he need do is... survive the next five minutes!
Without making a fool of himself (which is mostly the same thing)...
"And how, if I might, did you yourself come to specialize in tea, my lady?" Which is part real curiosity - always, always there - and part holding action as he makes his way into the room proper.
[sblock=OOC]Detect magic is still active as he looks about with a trapped animal's eye for potential exits.
Minute 16.[/sblock]