[There's definitely some commiseration with Shealtiel's situation; here Beat is with only his armor. His equipment, his weaponry, and his magic ability have all been stripped away from him. If he had any of that, this task would have been trivial. As it stands, though... that pool of blood is far more dangerous than expected.] A powerful curse, then. And nothing around that could concievably pull the plug from a distance.

A distraction...? I may be able to. Let me try something. [He takes a bloodstained bathing ladle hanging from a hook on the side of the room, walking past Shealtiel towards the opposite edge, and... starts tapping on certain plates of his armor. Different tones ring out, the plates tuned like a xylophone, and he's carefully watching the surface of the blood to see if the noise is enough to assuade the phantom hands.]

Try moving slowly-- if you feel yourself grabbed, shout and I will pull you back out!