[Benedict has lost weight since his arrival, and is unusually sensitive to the chill in the air. He holds his arms defensively around himself, staring dully at the elf, barely glancing to the Templar and then the tea.]

Is it magebane, [he asks, deadpan.] I've had it already today. [Sometimes they don't pay attention, and he gets it twice, and spends the day almost too sluggish to move.]