[h3]The Duchy of Zerul, by a road in southwest[/h3]
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“Huh?” Olan murmured, distracted from the exchange between their group and Domhnall’s by first a light tugging at the edge of his frilly tunic, then seizing his arm and squeezing it tightly enough to fully get his attention. He turned away from the others – it was not as though they needed him anymore for what they were talking about, anyway – and looked at Thaler, who had apparently come up beside him while he had been busy being fascinated first by people of races belonging to a land far away, then his newfound ability to not only speak all languages, but to speak all languages [I]at once[/I].
He grinned at her widely, happy to see her on her feet and proud that she had mustered the strength to get to him, but as was usually the case with him he was not quite as simple-minded as he appeared. He would have had to be a sociopath with no prior experience reading other humanoids’ expressions not to realize that she was worried about something.
All it took was a quick glance over at Aemoten to confirm that he was not the issue – which should have been obvious from the start, since he figured she would have made them aware of the problem much more urgenty if there was a problem with the Sekalyn or anything else immediately problematic – to realize that her worry was for him.
“Did you know I could do that?” he whispered to her conspiratorially, a chuckle riding his voice without being fully allowed to come to fruition. Speaking to her, however, he made sure to switch back to speaking Rodorian, rather than in True Words. Only then did he realize that he felt somehow... drained, and that speaking like that had been consuming his magical energy. “Oh, I see! So talking like that is a kind of magic, you know? I only just realized. Don’t worry, dear, I’ll be more careful about it now that I know I can do it, and that it isn’t free.”

Jaelnec and Domhnall, meanwhile, continued their conversation. “Not really, no,” the Squire of the Will replied to the other’s inquiry on whether hunting gods and relics was the purpose of their group. “Nor was hunting vampires or goblins, or crusaders... or demonspawn, or harvesters, for that matter.” He sighed again, even deeper this time. “A lot of bad stuff just happened, and we either couldn’t or wouldn’t ignore it. We’ve been doing so much fighting lately... we were already exhausted before fighting Rilon.” He paused for a second, thinking. “Our objective is to end the Withering, though.”
The young Nightwalker actually smiled when Domhnall shared the fact that he had almost been killed by a boar at some point, and nodded his head in agreement. “Dealing with men, monsters and gods, it’s easy to forget that mundane stuff can be just as deadly.” He chuckled. “And I’m sure we could tell you... actually, I guess we could talk now, while Aemoten get’s some rest.”