"It sounds like a good plan, milady." The boy juts his jaw out, stroking his chin as he thinks of the formidable search ahead.

"This isn't something I can control myself too well, but...I fetch weapons, when asked. Sometimes out of nowhere." His hair flares to a terrible writhing red for the briefest instant as he brandishes a dainty parasol. "Some are more useful than others," he continues with a flourish, and the parasol is forgotten in a flash of violet and another fiery pulse. "I am at your service, if we run into trouble on our search."

There's movement down one of the hallways, and the page pulls to an abrupt halt. "So..." He sniffs the air. "Milady Brimstone, do you have any further need of me? I can leave you to your rounding up. Where and when do we meet again?"