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Ari first fell in love with the rolled eye when he was in gray magicians college in Altdorf. There was the barmaid at the Grinding Knee, who would do it when he ordered his 9th pint of mead for the night. That homeless, wretched snotling he found under the bording house, as it's last breath spittled down his slack jaw. And the nervous princess whose eye roll ended with a white creshendo. Now he seeks his nector from opponents on the field, each ones glaring stare calling his probing, eternal embrace.