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“What do you think?” you murmur to Elle, “Anyone catch your eye?”
“Hmm,” she muses, studying Usik with a dubious eye, “I'm not sure about that one. He seems... violent.”
“We are, by nature, a violent people,” Major Ionescu points out, “I know Usik. When the Lliogor descended upon the home islands, he fought as well as any man. There are many here who may not have survived if not for him.”
“I didn't mean-” Elle stammers.
Major Ionescu silences her with a gesture, shaking his head. No offence was intended, and no offence was taken. Before you can get distracted even further, you return to the three volunteers as they talk quietly amongst each other. They all turn as you approach, looking your way with a bland curiosity. “Good news. You're hired,” you tell the trio, “Get your supplies ready, and we'll leave at noon.”
-
Leaving Portsmaw, first by train and then by carriage, you find yourself sneaking glances at the Galseans. Considering that this is their first time seeing the wider world outside their enclave, their reaction is strangely muted. You suspect that it's a kind of natural caution, a reluctance to draw too much attention to themselves. They attracted more than a few curious stares on the train, although fortunately that was all.
The carriage can only take you so far, of course, before the difficult terrain so typical of the Mire of Phalaris makes further travel impossible. You stop at a tiny village on the very edge of Pale territory, a place called Waycrest, and haggle with one of the locals for the use of their spare rooms for the night. It's a surprisingly large house for such a tiny village, perhaps the last remnants of some faded noble family. Whatever the reason, it gives you plenty of space and a solid roof over your head. Considering that this might be your last taste of civilisation for a while, you plan on making the most of it.
As the Galseans are settling into their borrowed rooms, you catch Mihail on his own. “I know it might be a little late to be saying this,” you tell him quietly, “But it's not too late to change your mind. Where we're going, things could get... strange. If you're not prepared for that-”
“No. I can do this,” Mihail interrupts, shaking his head, “One day, perhaps, I will need to be a leader for my people, yet I have had scant experience. Not good, yes? So you see, I have to do this.”
“I won't pretend to know how things work in your homeland, but I think I understand,” you reply, “It's difficult, having to live up to a family name.”
Mihail nods slowly, lapsing into a thoughtful silence. “Well, anyway,” you continue, changing the subject before the mood can sour any further, “How's Melinda?”
“Ah. Busy, always busy,” the Galsean answers with a rueful smile, “I told her that you were looking for volunteers – never have I seen her so scared!”
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