[The light down here is negligible, so Laedo, free hand overturned to cast shade on their poor eyes, summons a small, dim globe over the upturned notebook. It may as well be a palm-mounted LED, for all its efficiency, though there are no wires and no battery pack attached to the spell he's just cast. Then again, in the extremely dusty air caught in the field, it's clear to see that the particles moving around Laedo are doing odd things: as in a soap bubble, particles in the air are moving ambiently around the man, but especially around the source of the light where his magical field is feeding in to the active spell... Laedo's gotten so used to the resistance to his magic that by this point he doesn't pay it any mind.

He looks the map over with a critical eye, but he also looks over the hand presenting it.] It's acceptable, only this branch is where I found worm tracks, and this branch I barred off--noxious chemicals.

You should be resting this mission out, with such a wound, you know. Nobody would begrudge you for remaining at the hostel [he refuses to acknowledge the brothel-like qualities of their forced living space] lest these paltry bindings come loose and infection sets in.