[It's not nearly as convenient using wizardry as one might hope, alas; you're still spending the equivalent amount of energy, even as you keep your arms free.

Each time, Nita moves the lance further away - the third one is almost at the far wall, even, and Nita cheers once Roland nails that one.]

Think you got me there, Roland.

[She admits.]

Making one from scratch, though, you mean? Or ordering one from the shop?

[It may actually be a thing somewhere, who knows.]