Snippet #1500372

The Darkspawns' numbers were dwindling, though Antius refused to allow himself to relax. The Darkspawn were monsters, after all, and he wouldn't be surprised if they tried to at least take someone with them to the grave. Nonetheless, he had to look up when he heard a roar. His jaw almost dropped. A Drake. A real live, Drake. He had noticed Blodwyn's previously, but his mind had been on other matters then. He grunted as genlock got through Tal's, and Ryuu's defense, paying him back with a stab that barely missed him for his lack of focus. He quickly allowed lightning to bust through his staff and sword, taking it down. He'd have to be careful, he reminded himself. At Bruce's words, he spoke.

"If this is a wild Drake, then it probably views the Darkspawn as a greater threat. As long as we don't attack or provoke it, we should be fine. If it's a mount, then his mount isn't from the Circle in Ferelden. Knight-Commander Gregoir deemed raising dragon-kin too dangerous, even for Templars!" he shouted before dodging a blow from another Darkspawn and impaling it with his sword. There weren't many now. The mage grinned grimly as he unleashed a Cone of Cold on a small cluster of Darkspawn that were attempting to flank the Templar. As soon as the battle was over, he was definitely going to get a closer look at that Drake, with all the proper precautions, of course.

At Asmara's question, he smiled over at the elf. It was true that with all the spells he was casting, he was quickly running out of mana faster than it could be replenished, even with the Grey Warden's spell replenishing him as the battle prolonged itself. He spoke, "I'm okay. As long as the Darkspawn keep dwindling and the battle ends soon, I should be able to make it through this. This is what I get for refusing to eat fish back at the Tower. Irving always said that fish increased your mana, but I didn't believe him. I hate fish."

*

Connall, for his part, was having the time of his life. These creatures were tough, but they were no match for him. Their attacks lacked subtlety, finesse. These fiends were poorly trained and poorly armored. He'd have been disappointed if there weren't so many of them for him to practice on. He roared and decapitated one before bashing another with his shield and impaling it with his sword. Rusted iron was no match for the Wrath of the Mountain-Father.

He was disappointed as the Darkspawn's numbers began to dwindle. So this was a small cache of them. Pity. He had fought such warbands before back home in the Frostbacks along with the other warriors of his tribe. Still, he grinned at the roar of a Drake and turned around to gaze upon it. Now that was a beast worthy for combat. Still, it made no move to attack them and the Mabari looked like it was trying to communicate with it. The Avvar groaned.

"Even the Mabari down in these lands are civilized," he said in disappointment. With that said, he plunged ahead, taking blows to his shield and lashing out at the remaining Darkspawn. Perhaps if he killed something, he'd feel better.