"I am capable of more than 'a couple,'" Carlisle chides, wanting to defend what little pride he has. "I am currently... unwell. Rattled by that- by whatever it was that was in the room. It unsettled my energies, making them harder to control."

And thus making himself, a being animated by magic, harder to control, as well. His legs move stiffly as he starts walking, his hand trailing the wall. He keeps talking, trying to keep his mind off the thundering in his head.

"As reparation — and apparently necrotic — magic are my only areas of expertise, yes, I must use glyphs for most everything else."