Caleb had grow nearly a foot more in height but still only stood at average
height (tells you some thing) Yet he seemed to have an air around him that
told you even if her wasn't tall you didn't want to mess with him, the
cold, calculating, menace was some what lost as he was rocking back and
forth curled up crying for the memory attack in his brain. He was dressed
entirely in black but wasn't hot under the sun and though not weapons were
visible hidden under the cloak were 5 or so throwing knives in a brace
crossing his chest. As his left arm drew away the others recoiled in
horror for where a hand should have been there was only a forearm that when
upon reaching the wrist melded with the metal of the pike where he should
have had a hand.
