"...The drunk tank at the police station?" Satin suggested cheerily. "Then there'd be authorities to observe them until it wore off, or we found the source." She gave an approximate location.
"I'll bet it is," Satin said as she carefully went for his arm ... and lo and behold, the sword magically consubstantiated itself right through the arm without injury.
"Guess you're Virtuous of some sort. Always nice."
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