Snippet #1378325

At the suggestion from Ser Sev that they regroup in her group's page, Antius nodded in relief before looking around his campsite. His tent was in tatters and so was his tea set, but luckily, his pack remained intact. He gratefully shouldered it, though it felt like a boulder in his weakened state, and took out a whistle, blowing on it. His horse, Bree, had probably ran off amidst the confusion, but the enchantment on the whistle always made sure Bree heard it if he was within a mile of Antius. Sure enough, the brown horse returned, snorting a little at the Darkspawn stench that pervaded throughout the camp. As they left, Antius had a feeling that Bree was more eager to leave than anyone. That was animals for you. Unnatural substances such as Darkspawn blood tended to disturb them.

On the way to the cave, Antius walked with both Asmara and the lynx-mage. It was wonderful to be in the company of fellow magi out in the world. He didn't hold anything against non-magical folk, but there was a special bond between magi, a bond that transcended gender and race as they each knew the burden of being a mage in a society that always regarded them with suspicion, fear, and sometimes anger along with the constant threat of demonic possession. When they reached the cave at last, Antius slumped against the wall. Maker, he was tired. He was impressed by Ryuu's and Arvin's resolve to scout ahead, but he felt a twinge of annoyance as Ser Bruce attempted to assume leadership.

"We are facing Darkspawn, Ser Templar. We do not have the luxury of limiting our magic," he argued, scowling at the very thought. Really. Apostate Magic? That was no School of Magic. It was a general term for any magic that was outside the Circle or that the Chantry was uncomfortable with, including his own Combat Magic spell. He continued, "We should use whatever we have as long as it's not Blood Magic. Besides, shouldn't the Wardens be in charge?"

Templars were always interfering with his life from their cold glares to his half-remembered memories of being torn from his family. He had worked to get permission to travel outside the Tower so he could study unhindered. He was not about to be commanded by a Templar when he didn't have to be.