[ He hits a nearby wall with a thwack, picture frames rattling. His smile stays in place. If anything, it's wider and sharper, a crescent carved into Karl's face. It's been awhile since he's had any fun. When Merlin glances about the room, Karl snatches his chance. From his open palm, a blood-red spike oozes out. He launches it at Merlin like a poisoned dart -- moving in the same motion, a blurred shape swooping right for the wizard. ]
[ If the spike doesn't hit Merlin, Karl can tackle him down easily. ]
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[ If the spike doesn't hit Merlin, Karl can tackle him down easily. ]