Veron in Corth
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  Donato chuckles. 

The dwarf scowls. "Does everyone here but me speak treehugger," ey growls in Common. 

Ey puts away eir sword, though. 

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"I actually only speak one language, and it's not any of these. I think I've got a weird translation. Thing. Going on."

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Elouan mutters "Detect Magic" under his breath in yet another language, while touching a fingertip to his closed eyelid.

He looks at Vinas, squints for a moment, and shakes his head. "Well, you're definitely a magic-user of some kind, but that's about all I can make out. That isn't any type of magic I recognise."  

Standing, he turns to squint at the pile of bones instead. "I can confirm," he says with a smile, "that these remains will not be rising again tomorrow night. Something severed the connection between the physical objects and the animating force." 

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"Oh. Uh. ... Good? They seemed like a real nuisance?"

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"You c'n say that again," the dwarf says, tipping eir hand to point a thumb at the ground. 

  There are nods from the others.

"Your work, then?"

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"Yeah. They, um. Had something binding them together? And then I severed that. With my inexplicable magic powers. That I got, uh. Yesterday."

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That earns a snort of laughter. "Nice." 

Ey walks up to where Vinas is sitting, and holds out a hand.

"I am Darya Rozaliyev Goldcrest. Call me Darya." Ey shoots a glare at Donato. "Everyone else does." 

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... Vinas doesn't know what to do with the hand. After a brief confused pause, he also holds out his hand, but with a clear lack of understanding of what purpose this is for. He'll go with it, sure. Cultural differences.

"Pleasure to meet you. Is, um, it rude to just call you Darya, or...?"

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There ensues a brief handshake, barely more than a clasp-and-release. Darya's hands are rough and calloused. 

"It is...something for friends. Rude without permission - but I just gave it." 

Ey nods, as if that settles everything, and turns to watch their surroundings again. 

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"Oh. Well, thank you."

  One of the members of the group, a man who's been utterly silent, gives Darya an apologetic look.

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"Welcome to the team," Elouan says, a little wry.

"You know, I think that's the fastest I've seen em take to someone. Even I didn't manage to get on first-name terms for a day or so. Was it the pickpockets, or the sea-serpent, Darya?" 

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"Neither," ey snorts.

"It was the cardinal." The two of them share a quick smile at the memory.

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"So, Vinas," Elouan continues, turning back to him.

"You say you acquired your magic yesterday? And you are already powerful enough to take on a small horde of skeletons."

He sounds impressed.

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Vinas blinks at the pronoun, but honestly it makes sense for another species to have different things there. Huh. Neat.

"The stairs did most of the work," demurs Vinas. "I um. Still barely have any idea what I'm doing."

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Elouan gives him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure we can figure it out." 

He looks quite excited at the prospect, actually. 

"While we're all standing around, would you like to see a map of the city? I should mark this area as cleared of undead." Rummaging in his satchel - which looks to be mostly full of papers and writing equipment, with only a little space left for other practicalities - he pulls out a scroll and shows it to Vinas. 

The city seems to be divided into two, labelled "Upper City" and "Lower City" in two languages. One of them is the language Elouan used for his spell, which seems to be the original text; translations have been added later in the language they are speaking. 

"We're somewhere in this area here," he explains, pointing at a sector towards the upper right of the page. "These lines are walls, these are roads, and this is the river. Oh - does your translation work on writing?"

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It takes him a few seconds of squinting to notice why the two sets of words look slightly different, but he realizes it soon enough.

"Yeah," he says. "I can actually tell that those are different languages, and that one -" he points at it, "- is in the same language you said your spell in. Which is neat in a freaky magic kind of way, I guess."

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"Well, that will be most useful." Elouan might be bouncing a little.

"I speak Volic myself, of course, but there are texts in other languages that would be vitally important - if only anyone could read them. And now you can!" 

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The young man in plate armour, who still hasn't introduced himself, clears his throat.

"This is all quite fascinating, but perhaps we could move on? We still have most of the city to explore." 

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"An excellent point, sir," Elouan says, in a tone that just barely passes as non-sarcastic.

"Oh, Vinas, allow me to introduce Sir Justus Beauchene, a knight of the Kadarin Church. And would you like some food, before we move on? I expect you must be hungry."

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"That," says Vinas, "would be great, thanks."

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"I have a few things in my pack that should do," says one of them, searching through his pack. "I'm Pythios, hello, this is Melina Rhea."

"Full name, please," she says, looking bored.

"Similar thing to Darya Rozaliyev. It's rude to shorten it without permission."

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"I am going to have such a fun culture shock, aren't I. I'll try to remember, I apologize in advance if I mess something up."

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"Since this seems to be the topic of conversation," the knight says, "may I request that I be referred to as 'Signor Beauchene'?" 

There are nods from the others. 

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Vinas considers the array of people and how he is absolutely not going to remember everybody's Thing reliably when confronted with this many people at once, then says, "Sure, let me just. Write all of this down, shall I, so I have a chance of keeping it all straight."

Out comes the book! He starts scribbling down everybody's names and preferred address - Darya gets a pronoun addition in the margins, Melina Rhea gets a small note saying 'full name,' - and then he glances at the remaining person who hasn't introduced himself.

  "I'm Cesare di Versizo. Cesare's, ah, fine," says the man, after a semi-awkward pause.

This also goes into the book. Hooray, maybe he won't be utterly lost in an ocean of different cultures and customs! But probably not.

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"You shouldn't worry about getting things wrong for at least the first few days," Elouan reassures him.

"We'll know you're trying, and that's the important thing."

He leans over to see if Vinas has spelled everyone's names right, and blinks when he realizes he can't read anything on the page. It's in a totally unfamiliar alphabet. 

"Looks like your translation doesn't work on things you've written, at least not by default. You could possibly write in other languages if you tried..." he speculates.

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