"So... it's kinda like Alistel?" he asked, hoping that was the case. Admittedly, all Alistelians were spoiled to some degree with the advent of thaumatechnology, and Rosch was no exception. It'd be nice not to have to give up certain modern conveniences, even if he was trapped in a strange land. "And this Liewen guy is, er, was, kinda like Fennel? So that means your friends is kinda doing what Sonja does, right?"

Sorry for all the comparisons, Stocke, but that's just how Rosch's brain works. Latch on to what's familiar and try to translate it into concepts he can understand. It might be slow going, but he'll figure it out. Eventually.

He listened as Stocke filled him in on the situation, and only interrupted when absolutely necessary. He didn't want to break the narrative thread so often that it became lost completely, and for the most part, a lot of the questions he did have were probably unimportant in the grand scheme of things. The important thing was figuring out who were allies and who were enemies, and it sounded like the hostiles far outweighed the non-hostiles...

And... they were actually going to have to go through the creepy forest. Swell. He swatted branches out of his face, envying his more nimble friend's smaller stature. The eerie howls were definitely not helping matters at all. Rosch could feel the hair on the nape of his neck standing at attention.

Stick to the path, Stocke warned. As if Rosch would be dumb enough to try his luck in the deep, dark forest with only a tiny dagger for defense. At least he had Stocke around to watch his back—

A noise, not far from their current position. Rosch's ears pricked up as he heard a low growl, and his nose quivered with the scent of animal musk. "Something's out there, Stocke, I can smell it..."

Hopefully, Stocke wouldn't doubt the huge soldier's senses this time. Because Rosch had a very bad feeling about this...