"Oh come now, 10 more coins are in it for you if you take me all the way to the tavern!"

The old cart driver sneered as he simply raised his hand in defiance. "Already told ya girly, I aint goin no closer to that swampy cloud o' death. End of the road here"

The figure reclining in the back, clad in a loose garment and headscarf, rose up, stretching as she hopped off the back of the cart, digging out a bag of coins, passing from one hand to another in a fluid transaction before passing into the possession of the cart's pilot.
"Very well, guess I can't schlep you any further." turning her back to the driver as her eyes pierced into the darkness of the night. The tavern was likely a good 13-mile trek through the mountains away still, so there was no time to waste, lest she be left behind.

She was hoping to leave earlier, and make it by night, but negotiating the terms of her transport across Ruritania, the arrival had come a bit later than desired. Tired, hungry, and only arriving just at the final hairs of time, only catching a glimpse as a Knight and her subordinates made their way to a lower level, followed by two other figures. The girl made haste to follow them, knowing this must be the Knight Morro Aramato from the flier.

"Selom!" She said loudly to the knight, her heavy Koraim accent becoming noticable as she spoke, "You are Morro Aramato, lo?" she asked, her eyes darking back and forth from the knight, to the wizard and the acrobat around her.

Caractacus took two steps back from the table. He had only assumed this armored individual was his contact, and made neutral contact. Suddenly he found himself joined by two others. The jester, and another newcomer, a Koraim. Today truly was a day of oddities. Despite his wish to study the horned human closer, he was worried he may have set the both of them on a complete stranger who had nothing to do with the contract. Caractacus did not want to stick around if he turned out to be wrong in his initial assumption, and he may have caused offense to the sitting elf.

Still, he couldn't give up after a moment of doubt. He'd have to make an inquiry. "I'm uh, s-sorry, you are M-Morro Aramat-to, correct? I d-don't have the, aheh, wrong person, right?" A wave of regret washed over him after Caractacus spoke. Know that he was aware of it, he could feel he was making a poor impression. He took another step back in apprehension.

Morro was counting the cracks in the table when she heard the nervous greeting. She glanced up with a raised eye brow, to observe the person addressing her. Suffice to say, she wasn't pleased with what she saw. As a true warrior at heart, she had a certain... dislike of magicians, and she didn't intend to waste much time with this one. Probably begging for money. "Yes, I'm Knight Morro Aramato, messenger of the Three Nations. My time is precious, what do you want?" She spat out the word and glared up at the wizard.

While she was waiting for her answer, something caught her eye. Something big, and purple. Her gaze was drawn, and she blinked several times before she believed what she was seeing; a man, dressed in a white and purple jesters outfit, was moving her way. She should have slept for longer - was she hallucinating? In a backwater little tavern such as this... He had to be here for a purpose, and there was only one reason to come here if you weren't a local. Her suspicions, and hopes, were roused. Perhaps they wouldn't have to send troops into the mountain after all... And they were confirmed, as he asked about the Lich job. She doubted they would last long, but if people like these were interested, then surely others would be to. Her heart lifted, at least as much as a heart of iron could.

She was ready to answer when her attention was called on by another stranger. As much as she was happy about this, she regretted that she hadn't had time to have breakfast or fully wake up before dealing with a group of strangers. And they truly were a strange bunch, it seemed. She turned to the Koraim and found her eyes lingering on the horns, before she retook control of herself. Though she was good, she wasn't good enough to talk to three separate people all at once. She addressed them as one. "I assume you're all here about the Lich job?" She didn't wait for a response before beckoning at a large table in the corner of the room, and taking a seat there.

Kij'hara noticed the knight coming downstairs, but didn't move from her seat. She watched with keen eyes as the clown and the wizard descended on her, and scanned the Koraim that joined them. Were all these people truly interested in protecting the Three countries? What were their true motives, and were they all good? The table where the knight was sat was just in earshot, despite the already drunken shouts, but when she moved to the corner table it was well away from where Kij was sitting. With annoyance - she had been hoping to simply sit and listen - she twisted her way through the maze of fallen bar stools, broken tables and still intact seating to take a place at the table. She didn't say anything to the knight, but the elf registered no shock. Knight Aramato was good at hiding her emotions, Kij could already see that, but as she stared into the woman's eyes she could detect an underlying hate. She ignored it, for what did she care that this woman had something against her, and turned to see what the others were doing.

Masrith walked through the swamp land heading for a place he saw on a poster called "The Mountain Tavern". He held out a sheet of paper and looked down at it. It was the paper the info was written on. He had no actual idea what language it was in. Just that his eye patch aloud him to read it in his language. The entire idea of the situation was an uncomfortable thought in his mind. He was in a 'world' he knew nothing about. His 'world' was the underdark. A place in the depths of the world. On top of that, he was an Illithid...or to be more specific..an Ulitharid. His race was seen as vile and despicable creatures that should be avoided. He had no friends or allies ever since he was split up from his group during the ambush. He knew they were alive. They were powerful individuals that were also intelligent. They had each other. Masrith had no one. Without even a trace idea of where home was except below the earth, he had no generalization of directions. He looked down at the paper again. "Morro Aramato". His voice was deep and menacing and was the only physical trait that rivaled his stature. Maybe his eyes. They were pitch white after all. That name was one of the only two directives he could conceive. Find the tavern and find her. A quest to stop the curse was something they had in common. The only thing really. It didn't take long to find the tavern. He had seen the location in someone's mind a few days back and it was firmly planted in his memory. The tavern didn't look good. Masrith hesitated to approach. It looked like a place blooming with trouble... maybe. He didn't know. The above world was strange to him. He also was a muscular nine foot tall purple octopus thing. If that didn't stand out then nothing else probably would. Despite his hesitant thoughts he approached the tavern. It was logically his best option. The only clear way to obtain any kind of solid ground on the surface. He entered the tavern to see some heads turn at him immediately. Seeing a muscular nine foot tall purple octopus monster was sure to turn some heads after all. He approached the counter the tavern keeper was standing at and put the paper on the counter. He pointed to it and said one name out loud. "Morro Aramato?" His voice was equally disturbing as his stature. He made it quite evident he was looking for whoever Morro was. He was hoping for any kind of physical gesture to the person's location as he did not understand human language. A mental link might also cause a form of hostility and trouble was the last thing he was looking for.

Caractacus recoiled at the knight's rebuke. He took another step back, his free hand held out in surrender. "I'm h-here about the j-job. To fight th-the undead, yes?" After rifling through his robe a moment, Caractacus produced the notice he had found. "B-but if you do not wish my c-company, I underst-stand, and ap-p-pologize for wasting your time."

"I assume you're all here about the Lich job?" Morro addressed everyone at the table. She gestured towards a larger table, which Caractacus followed her to, stumbling over the strewn detritus of the tavern all the way. Choosing not to take a seat just yet, Caractacus stood near the table, hopefully not too close. Or too far. He didn't want to seem even more rude. He noted he was joined by the Slith from outside the bar. He hoped he didn't still seem like a coward. Maybe it'd be better if he sat down at the table?

Just as he sat down, Caractacus saw it. The Illithid. Nine feet tall, with a squid face, and eyes whiter than bone. Caractacus's eyes bulged, his stomach dropped through his feet, and his knuckles whitened with the force he gripped his staff. He stared as the Illithid approached the bar, and it practically shouted at the bartender, "Morro Aramato?" That did not bode well. He had heard tales from his master of the cruelty and destructive nature of the Illithid. If one was here, it could not be for a good reason. Maybe it worked for the lich!

Caractacus made a snap decision. He stood, and stepped away from the table. Bringing his staff to bear, Caractacus slammed it down onto the ground. Death magic swirled into the ground, and sought the nearest dead bodies. He was lucky he was under a half destroyed building. Two zombies punched and clawed their way through the floorboards and out of the ground. Caractacus pointed at the Illithid and shouted a command. "Illithid! Kill!"

Morro Aramato had no time to gawp at the Illithid, nor process what was happening. First silence filled the room, then uproar. She stared at the undead clawing their way up through the floor, and then at the mage. What the hell was going on? And... had the Illithid said her name? Morro pushed herself to her feet and reached for her sword. It wasn't there; she realised with a sinking heart that she had left it up in her room, not expecting to need it during her quiet, peaceful breakfast. There was no way she was going without a weapon, and her knife would never be good enough in a fight such as this. She ducked down and grabbed a broken leg from a stool, and felt her fingers fit around the heavy wooden support comfortably. With unease, she straightened herself up again and took on a defensive stance. Though the undead minions of the mage... no, necromancer - surged forwards, the knight hung back and watched the fight unfold. She would not choose the wrong side - her actions represented the Three Nations, and she knew that they would be greatly if the Illithid empire went to war with them. With those thoughts in her mind, she crossed her fingers and prayed to the God of Peace that the Illithid was peaceful.

Kij'hara slid under the table as the undead broke through the floorboards and the innkeeper began to shout in both distress and anger. Safely under cover, she set her course for the opposite side of the tavern - where the undead sat and watched the spectacle with amusement. If she could just get over there, she would have an easy way to escape or a good place to help with the fight, depending on what she judged best. The job was not worth the trouble it had caused, she decided, as she darted from table to table. The mage passed by, then the Illithid. Though she tried her best to focus on her path, it was hard not to stare at the events unfolding, and the interesting characters they involved. Not focusing was a mistake. She tripped over the leg of a table and went flying into the murky waters of the swamp, into the undead side of the tavern. The waters seeped into her mouth with the taste of rot and mould. At least she was safe and, for now, out of sight. With clothes that were heavy with water, she dragged herself up onto the platform of the tavern and armed herself with her bow. If she wanted to take a side, at least she could help. She waited and watched to see how things would unfold.

Masrith heard a quick scuffle of feet and turned to see a mage like figure summon two zombies. He looked at the floor boards as they were clawed through. Masrith stood without moving a muscle eyeballing the mage with his pale eyes. Masrith widened his eyes when he heard two words, 'Illithid, kill'. Masrith heard the woman behind him run as well as the group at the table urge upward but not in an aggressive manner. Masrith looked back at the paper he had and then to the woman who didn't appear to be armed. It didn't take long for him to get the connection. "Morro." He said in a deep tone as he pointed at her. Masrith quickly grabbed a chair and bashed it against one of the zombies with enough force to break the chair to pieces. He then followed with a hard palm strike to the same zombie as it was stumbled to knock it off it's feet. It was then that Morro and Caractacus would hear a voice in their head that sounded just like the Illithids. "We seek to end the curse. Though we are immune. Do not give my race a reason not to help." This was a simple psionic message to the duo. Masrith could not lead any other mental intrusion on it and took a defensive stance to hold back the two zombies until he got a response.

"Morro." The illithid pointed at the knight, confirming Caractacus' fears. It was after her. The zombies fought on unflinchingly riding out the blows from their larger. They struggle on even as their bodies are destroyed. One was bashed over the head with a chair, and it was knocked flat by the illithid. It regained its feet, shattered jaw hanging slack, and resumed its attacks.

Caractacus was about to infuse the undead with his own power, a risky move, but hopefully enough to stop the creature, when he heard a voice inside his own head. He immediately recoiled. "We seek to end the curse. Though we are immune. Do not give my race a reason not to help." A shiver ran up his spine.

"Minions. Stop. Return." Simple commands. The zombies halted their assault on the squid-faced creature, and shambled back to the spot in front of him where they had burst from the ground. They idled. Caractacus stared a the illithid a moment before speaking again. "Okay. Speak as you will. But do not enter my mind again." He hated the feeling of the creature in his mind, his most protected sanctuary. It felt as though he had been violated.

Caractacus looked to Morro a moment. He wanted to explain things to her, but not as much as he wanted to keep an eye on the illithid.

She was in the middle of beginning to rush towards the Illithid - Chair leg held high above her head like a club - when the voice hit her. Morro stopped dead in her tracks, with a look of horror on her face. It didn't take long for her to regain her senses, and she stared in disgust at the Illithid. He... it was friendly, or at least wan't going to attack them, it seemed. It, like the others, was here for the quest. She shook her head to clear her tangled thoughts, then crossed over to the table she had been sitting at again, and watched as the wizard necromancer and the squid thing came to a short conclusion to their battle. She took the opportunity to recuperate. The bartender scurried out from behind the bar with a plate of her breakfast and a firm scowl, and Morro took the plate of cold food from him with a grunt.

Finally it seemed like they were done, but the quick glance from the wizard did not pass her by. She gave a quick nod back, then turned to the hulking Illithid. "Take a seat, if you want to know more about the quest. And I would thank you to speak so that everyone can hear you, in the future." She ignored the patrons of the tavern giving her strange looks, and hoped that the concealed threat would not pass the Illithid by. The number of those who were interested in the quest seemed to have decreased, and when she scanned the room she realised she couldn't see the lizard or the clown. Thank god, things were weird enough as they were.

She didn't wait for the unusual pair to sit down before she started talking. "If you're going to fight each other, do it in your own time and stop wasting mine." She talked in between mouthfuls at first, and then gave up and talked with food in her mouth, spitting it back out again onto the table. Morro ignored the disgusted looks. "So your a necromancer, eh? What's dirty scum like you doing here, shouldn't you be in the mountain?" She laughed a harsh, mocking bark of a laugh. "And you, squid. Why does this concern you?" Morro paused and then grunted. "Actually no, that's none of my business and I don't care. You want to do the quest, you listen..."

"This big ol' bloody mountain has risen up from the ground again. Not only does Queen Ruon not want to have to initiate a full on war, the Old Country is also Three Nations land and we want it back. So it's your job to go in there, find out what's going on, and kill as much as you can. It doesn't matter to me, but you also might want to make it out alive..." She grimaced and pushed herself up to her feet, letting the plate and fork fall with a clatter. Another scowl from the bartender was sent her way, and she glared back. "So... any questions?"

Masrith watched the looks he got from others. These looks didn't bother him. When the others spoke however, it became difficult. Masrith didn't speak their language so it would difficult to speak out loud. Masrith had a different idea. He grabbed the poster he had earlier. He then grabbed another piece of paper and something to write with. He began to look at the poster, take his eye patch off and on. Then write something down. Eventually he was done writing. He handed the paper he wrote on to Morro. The paper had cruedly written words on it. 'I don't speak your language. I translate surface thoughts to understand. I could speak language of the underdark. But every race that speaks it has bad rep with surface dwellers. Might be more offensive then mind talk'. Masrith waited for a response. He eyed the others across the room. He believed the mental communication would be more strategic at this point. The enemy could have ears listening. The mental link made more sense. Masrith looked around. The group wanted him to speak out loud and he was determined to find a way. He motioned for the bartender who hesitantly and slowly approached. Masrith handed the bartender five gold pieces. The bartender looked confused only for a moment. Masrith grabbed the bartender on his head and the bartender froze. Masrith kept his hand on the bartenders head. The bartender began to speak to Morro. "I can speak out loud doing this." The voice would sound horrible. A mixture of voices between Masrith and the bartender were heard. The bartender continued. "I won't continue this for long. But I paid. If you prefer I speak out loud. I will need a volunteer."

Caractacus returned his attention to Morro, but he kept the illithid in his peripheral, not wanting to completely take his eyes off it. He considered dispelling the undead minions that loitered nearby, but he decided against it, in case of deceit from the illitid. He took note as the bartender scuttled over to deliver a full plate to the knight. It was with some shock that he watched Morro start scarfing down food with abandon. His stomach grumbled audibly. It didn't help that summoning undead still took so much out of him. He needed to practice more.

His thoughts turned inward, towards practice and the theory of undead summoning, so much so he barely noticed Morro adressing the illithid. IT was only when she spoke to him directly that he snapped out of it. "So you're a necromancer, eh? What's dirty scum like you doing here, shouldn't you be in the mountain?" She laughed. The words stung, but no worse than anything else he'd heard before. He didn't blame her for mistrusting him.

"I-I'm not like th-the other ones. N-necromancy can be just a tool. Like any magic." He hoped he sounded trustworthy.

Morro continued with her briefing. She stood as she finished speaking. "So... any questions?" Caractacus shook his head in the negative. The illithid had something to say, or more accurately, something to write, it had snatched up a piece of paper and a quill from a nearby table, and wrote down a message for the table. Caractacus read it quickly, and shook his head.

"I d-do not want you in my mind."

Perhaps, in response, the illithid motioned the bartender over, who approached with trepidation. Caractacus watched, horrified when the creature grabbed the bartender by the head, and the bartender started speaking in a terrible rasp. "I can speak out loud doing this. I won't continue this for long. But I paid. If you prefer I speak out loud. I will need a volunteer."

Taking two steps away from the illithid, Caractacus swore. "Damn it! Th-that's almost worse! I d-don't want to be your m-mouthpiece."

Morro watched in horror as the Illithid took hold of the bartender and... The voice, the very nature of what was happening made her feel queasy. She fought to pay attention to what the monster was saying, but found it more than a little difficult. Finally she had had enough. With force, she stood and brought the edge her heavy gauntlet down onto the table. Metal struck wood, and then bounced apart again with a heavy crack. She didn't know what was making the bartender go more white, the atrocities that were happening to him, or the further damage to his property. When the Knight was sure she had the attention of all, she turned to the Necromancer. "Pull yourself together! You summon the dead to do your bidding, this is little worse." Morro didn't wait for his reply, but instead turned to the Illithid with almost palpable fury. "And you. You are on Three Nations land, and in violation of the law. Release the man, or I'll be forced to take action against you."

Though it disturbed her to see somebody used in such a way, she was more concerned at the thought of the monster invading her mind again. If it truly wanted to... 'help' on the mission, then they would have to find a way for it to communicate. She scanned the room for likely people, but none looked willing to help. The Knight sighed wearily. "Would anybody be willing to act as the voice for the... Illithid?" Her request was met by a wave of turned backs and shameful faces. None were brave enough, it seemed. The blur of motion caught the corner of her eye, and she watched as the lizard pulled herself up from the undead end of the tavern and stepped forwards.
"I volunteer."
Morro turned first to the lizard, then back to the Illithid with a shrug.
"Can you speak through her?"

The Illithid sat in what almost seemed like amusement as the bickering started. It watched as Morro had some sort of snap and fussed at him and the necromancer's. He heard her mention the Three Nations land. She made the demand to release the bartender. Masrith did so without a fuss as he did not seek conflict. The bartender ran back behind the bar after he was released. Masrith let out a shrug. The situation was eather ridiculous. So mich fuss over a lack of communication. Masrith waited while he noticed a turn of heads. He then watched as a lizard like person approached. Masrith couldn't really understand much of what they were saying but he did understand the word volunteer. Masrith slowly stood up. He lifted his arm and placed his hand onto the persons head. The lizards eyes turned pure white. "You creatures frighten easily. I can communicate with any creature that knows a language." A dark and corrupted mixtire of voices came form the lizard as ot spoke. "Talking through the mind is much easier." Masrith turned his head and looked around. The lizard spoke. "Help is something you don't have a lot of. I suppose as a sign of trust. I will answer truthfully any three questions you ask me."

There was no chance he was letting that thing into his mind again. Not with all his secrets and plans. It was with a mixture of shame, and worry that he watched the slith walk forward and volunteer herself. "I volunteer." The illithid immediately made use of her.

Caractacus winced as once again the illithid spoke through another, but he didn't raise any protests this time. If the slith wanted to let that thing inside her, it was her choice, no matter how unsafe it seemed to Caractacus. He merely sat down and resented the illithid for scaring the bartender off. There was little chance of him ordering any food now. Caractacus instead decided to make use of the illithid's offer, and ask it a question. "What m-matter is it of your kind that the d-dead have risen? Caractacus hoped it would provide at least some reasoning for the creature's presence.

Kij felt the Illithid infiltrate her mind, and felt as he spoke through her. The sensation was... strange, like a numbness that spread throughout her mind. At first she tensed up and felt the two of them briefly jostle for control of body, but as she gave over she found it to be less difficult to let him talk through her. Trust the humans to overreact.

Morro slowly sank back down into the wood of her chair, and looked down at her now unappetising plate of food. It was long cold. The stillness of the room now concerned her, and she scanned the room for signs of her companions. Alarm bells rung at the back of her mind when she didn't catch sight of them. Where were her soldiers, and why were they taking so long? With difficulty, she cast her worries from her mind and turned back to the... problem at hand. The knight nodded in agreement, acknowledging the wise choice of question, then asked her own. "And why have they sent you. and only you, to help?"

Masrith stood in wait with his hand placed over the lizard creatures head. He listened for the questions to be asked. He turned and faced Caractacus. "They aren't something you can reason with. It's like me tryong to negotiate with your undead while you tell them to attack. Such an idea would be utterly pointless." He then faced Morro. "They didn't. We had several groups venture out into the heart of the curse. I was among a group. We believed we could use our psionic abilities to severe the control of the undead. However, my group was ambushed and I was separated from my group. I have no doubt they are alive as the leader posses an intellect greater than mine and the power to match. I had sought a way to regroup but came across someone reading a poster. I read their thoughts and that poster lead me to you." Masrith paused for a second. "We wanted to talk to your leaders but decided against it. After all, your entire group tried to kill me on sight. My race didn't see you humans as logical creatures. Most of you act on emotion. Our race has dominated the minds of thousands to use as slaves. You really think your leaders would form a alliance with us?"

Caractacus scowled. He supposed, in a twisted way, he shared some qualities with the illithid, nauseous as admitting it made him feel. He and it were both quickly judged, and to his own chagrin, quick to judge as well. Despite the similarities, Caractacus still did not feel any positive emotion toward the illithid. "No, I suppose d-diplomacy would be challenging." Caractacus was unsure whether to speak toward the slith or the illithid, so he kept his gaze between the two.

Suddenly, his stomach spoke out in protest again. Caractacus flushed. "I ap-pologise. I didn't ha-have a chance to eat this m-morning." Caractacus looked at Morro's half finished plate. "Are you...going to f-finish that?"

The words of the Illithid troubled Morro. She didn't like the thought of more of the monsters wandering around, especially if they found their way onto Three Nations territory. It would be impossible to wage a war on both the undead and Illithids at the same time, and disastrous if they decided to attack after the undead had been defeated. With those worrying thoughts tugging at her mind, she hardly noticed when the mage turned to address her. When the silence stretched out, the knight realised and pushed her plate towards him. "No, feel free to eat. After all, you'll need to keep your strength up." Satisfied that there was at least a semblance of peace in the tavern, she stood up and excused herself from the table. "Feel free to sit down and wait. I'll be right back." With a final glance back at the odd group, she made her way up the stairs and into her room.

The bedroom itself was empty. Empty of any armour, or of any weapons. None of her personal belongings were where she had left them, either. Morro swore and strode to the gap in the wall. The once settled dust and rubble had been disturbed, and sure enough there was a single footprint where there had not been before. When she leaned out of the window, she could see where the grass had been pushed aside as people passed through. The path lead up the hill and into the woods. She swore once more, and left the room for a final time.

She made her way back downstairs with a heavy heart. "I'm afraid to say the new recruits who were supposed to aid you have bailed on us. I'll have to go back to my base to gather more troops and equipment, but we don't have enough time for you to wait for me." Morro sighed, and cast a glare out of the window to the path. "You'll have to go on without me, and I'll find you when I return." Her eyes flickered between the three of them. The lizard could not lead, for she was a lizard. Nor could they have a monster watching over the group. But somebody had to watch over them, seeing as she wouldn't be around. With reluctance and a sigh, she turned to the necromancer. "Can I trust you to make sure that the others don't do anything stupid? I want them and you alive, if possible." The knight glanced outside again and guessed at the time before turning back to the mage. "I want you out of here by midday. The bartender should provide you with food and drink for the journey. Agreed?"

The moment he was given approval, Caractacus sat back down and started eating. He was starving. Still, he avoided scarfing down the food, as he usually did when he was alone, if only to avoid looking more like a freak. Caractacus looked up from his plate when the knight stood to leave. He grunted acknowledgement through a mouthful of food. Nothing to be worried about at the moment. He finished off the dish before she returned. She shared the unpleasant news of her companions' desertion. Caractacus was hardly aware of their existence in the first place, but he rued the delay it would cause. Then she asked him a question. "Can I trust you to make sure that the others don't do anything stupid? I want them and you alive, if possible."

Caractacus withheld a gasp. He was being given command? This wasn't something he'd prepared for. Sentients were harder to manage than the undead. Still he wasn't going to pass up the responsibility to the illithid. Caractacus tried to look confident. "I'll uh, do it. Good. Yes. Out of here by midday, of c-course!."

Masrith listened to the conversation as it continued. "If we were look at things as they are presented. A necromancer isn't a good idea for a first impression. The lizard is the friendliest looking face." He said through the creature. "Not because im interested in hearing the race card, but despite our cruel reputation. My people are known for their mental capacity. I would suggest the lizard being the face of the group. The necromancer could give the orders, and I could be the strategic thinker." Masrith looked at the group for a sogn of approval. "A mental link between ths group is the best strategic option. It would much easier to plan and communicate under circumstances of extreme stress. It also helps prevent any language barrier."