Dorian tucks himself beneath the Bull's arm on his bad side and wraps an arm around the Bull's waist to help stabilize him. He shoulders as much of the Bull's weight as he can – or, more accurately, as much as the Bull allows – and hurries them into the next room.
Behind them, the darkspawn howl and screech, knocking down more of the ice wall, but it holds, for the most part. By the time Dorian has led the two of them into the half-collapsed hallway, only the top portion has broken enough to allow one darkspawn to poke out its head. Dorian obligingly splays his hand and flicks his wrist, freezing the creature in place.
He leaves the Bull propped up against a nearby wall, clear of the doorway, and quickly returns to his position. An arrow whizzes through the gap of the doorway, missing Dorian's cheek by mere inches, and he grits his teeth. Green energy surrounds him as he calls upon the Fade, arms thrown out to either side, and he commands the stone boulders to fully barricade the door. They obligingly roll and float into place, and once they've dropped and settled, sending out a cloud of dust, Dorian lets himself finally take a breath.
He's shaking, he realizes. Probably from the fading battle high, but also probably from the revulsion coursing through him and twisting his stomach, and also from the exertion of casting so many powerful spells in succession. His head throbs, now that he's letting himself notice, and he feels a little nauseated – but Dorian would rather chalk that up to his exhaustion and his concussion than to the possibility that he's somehow just been infected with—
Dorian's mind quickly jerks away from that train of thought.
He glances over at the Bull, and realizes the man is examining him closely.
"I'm fine," Dorian says quickly, and he manages to sound suitably convincing. He's— well, he's not, but he would wager he's in far better shape than the Bull. "If we're lucky, we'll have made enough of a racket that half the Inquisition could find us."
He hurries toward the Bull, moving to tuck himself the man's bad side again.
"We need to find someplace safe so I can tend to your wounds."
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Behind them, the darkspawn howl and screech, knocking down more of the ice wall, but it holds, for the most part. By the time Dorian has led the two of them into the half-collapsed hallway, only the top portion has broken enough to allow one darkspawn to poke out its head. Dorian obligingly splays his hand and flicks his wrist, freezing the creature in place.
He leaves the Bull propped up against a nearby wall, clear of the doorway, and quickly returns to his position. An arrow whizzes through the gap of the doorway, missing Dorian's cheek by mere inches, and he grits his teeth. Green energy surrounds him as he calls upon the Fade, arms thrown out to either side, and he commands the stone boulders to fully barricade the door. They obligingly roll and float into place, and once they've dropped and settled, sending out a cloud of dust, Dorian lets himself finally take a breath.
He's shaking, he realizes. Probably from the fading battle high, but also probably from the revulsion coursing through him and twisting his stomach, and also from the exertion of casting so many powerful spells in succession. His head throbs, now that he's letting himself notice, and he feels a little nauseated – but Dorian would rather chalk that up to his exhaustion and his concussion than to the possibility that he's somehow just been infected with—
Dorian's mind quickly jerks away from that train of thought.
He glances over at the Bull, and realizes the man is examining him closely.
"I'm fine," Dorian says quickly, and he manages to sound suitably convincing. He's— well, he's not, but he would wager he's in far better shape than the Bull. "If we're lucky, we'll have made enough of a racket that half the Inquisition could find us."
He hurries toward the Bull, moving to tuck himself the man's bad side again.
"We need to find someplace safe so I can tend to your wounds."