So Gale did: she took a step forward, and then another, and soon the pair of them were outside in a near-by courtyard, which was not entirely empty but flanked by creeping green vines and stone benches -- and, well, besides the worn statue of a Pharist saint and a couple milling about in the corner, empty enough. Gale deliberately moved towards the back of the courtyard before she turned to Merrion quite suddenly, her hair whipping around and her fists clutched tight around her staff.
"This will do," she said. She was quite devoid of charm when she became business-like; even when she was trying, what charm was there was minimal. Now that she was in her element of being authoritative and, interestingly enough, a position of power, she didn't seem to care much for the pretense. "Now, what white magic do you know? Can you cast a cure spell?"