The Head Healer’s been a little antsy and claustrophobic in these dark tunnels; it turns out he doesn’t like being underground, not since Sarrux. He keeps a comforting illumination glowing at the end of his veil quartz staff, painting others’ faces in anemic colours, but at least it’s enough to see by. The depths aren’t a situation he can blast his way out of, and so he’s dedicated himself to smaller, quieter problems over the course of this slow march through the abyss: checking on a teammate’s sprained ankle where they stumbled in the dark, tending to someone going through a truly unpleasant mushroom trip, helping shove crumbled stone out of the way.

While the Scoutmaster sizes up the wall ahead of them, he turns his attention to Yseult’s question. He’s tall, so standing on his shoulders could be an option.

But after a moment he makes a thoughtful noise, considering: “How do you feel about being tossed with magic?”