"Subtle arts?" he asks, because the only subtle art he's ever heard of is the art of cheating at cards without getting your teeth knocked in.
"Maybe you call them psionics or something? Not a technical term, but whatever. Oh, and I am not reading your mind, I don't have that problem."
(Though he prods at the mental techniques The Seer walked him through for resisting mind tampering. Up they go. Safety.)
"Is it a specialty school or something?"
"Huh. Cool. Good luck with it." Pause. "... I technically never graduated from my school, did I, huh."
"I don't blame you. But you are not a volunteer practice subject, so."
"I don't mind being a volunteer practice subject if you need the practice, I could use the practice on the defensive side too. Keep the mindflayers on their toes if I have to fight more of them."
"That's not usually the kind of practice I'm assigned, but I guess it probably wouldn't hurt? As long as this is, like, shield defense and not offense-is-the-best defense."
"Shield defense. I'm not trained in, uh, subtle arts offensively. Just defense. A bit shoddily, too, we were kind of in a rush. And I wouldn't stab you or anything."
"Read surface thoughts, read memories, knock you unconscious, it gets a little more not-so-much-for-practicing from there?"
"Surface thoughts works. And yeah, let's not go with not-so-much-for-practicing."
"Sure. And I will back off if you think that you wish you had not just thought a thing."
"Thank you for not being terrible. Ready when you are. ... Though the, uh, Bar might want us to move or something."
"Okay. Making sure." Pause. "The bar's sentient and is the bartender, by the way. And can conjure drinks and books and food."
He thinks slippery thoughts.
This makes him actually really tricky to read.