Felix Caelus

Felix looks sharply at the blades when they start to vibrate against the wood of the table. His eyes flick toward Harrow for a moment, checking if he should worry. It doesn't seem as if they're trying to interfere, though. He's sure he'd feel it, if they chose to intervene.

He tilts his head warily before inclining it to the blades, hoping the respectful acknowledgment will help. All seeming well... enough, he turns his hands to aim one palm at Harrow and hold the other over the blades.

"Then I, Felix Caelus, call on you and your runeblades to answer me. I call and bind you to do no harm within this circle." A simpler summons than usual, but the targets are right here, and importantly, already amenable to answering.

This time, when Felix's magic reaches out, it flows to Harrow and the two axes on the table. The death knight will be able to feel it - not snaring, not grabbing, but inviting, tugging him to let it draw him in. There's a faint echo of whispered syllables less human than Felix's simple wording. But they echo the same meaning in more arcane terms: the runes around them are daedric, after all, words that have their own power to shape and bind reality.