"Let's pray to the Maker we make it there quickly then, love."

We skirt through the remainder of the decimated main hall at a rapid pace, at Sloane's behest and with the Circle mages of our group directing us to the fastest route to the main staircase for the next floor. We all keep an ear and eye out for survivors in the battered, dark corridors along the way, but none have been discovered so far. More bodies though. Always more bodies. Randall's out front scouting ahead as a mabari does, with his nose to the floor and his ears perked for any subtle sounds to be heard. He can outpace most of us, so it's useful to have him acting as such. He has sniffed out a couple of corpses that have needed re-killed. Not so many as when we'd first passed through the barrier, but enough so we'd not forget there's blood magic about. Not that I'd forget any time soon. I'm feeling sick with all the dark power and unusual sensations alighting along my blood magic lines, and ricocheting through my body cruelly. There's a lot of blood magic in the air. I can even feel the vortex of power seeping into my very bones with an ever-present dull ache.

"You look a little green about the gills there, Karie," Sloane comments to me from where we're walking just behind Jowan and Amell leading the way. Wynne's further back, as she prefers less offensive magic, and perhaps even so she can keep an eye on things as she seems to have charged herself with doing. I'm mentally rolling my eyes. It's best if I don't think on that overly much. But, everyone else is where they please. I haven't even seen Zevran for the last few minutes, but he always shows up a few moments later with a small smile on his face, and shoving something into one of his pockets. Damned kleptomaniac is going to scrounge up trouble if he keeps going off on his own though.

"I feel a little nauseous," I return while looking up at Sloane after a moment's thought. "But I'll be okay," I try to reassure when he gets that damned furrow between his brows as his concern spikes again. It's sweet, and I totally adore it, but I'm not a fragile glass doll. Every ache and pain does not automatically warrant a fuss.

"Perhaps you should see Senior Enchanter Wynne, lady Karie," Amell suggests while looking over his shoulder at us. "What with your condition and all this fighting, I'm sure it's taxing on your body." He shrugs, "Then again, I'm no healer graced with the mighty Maker's niftiest gifts either. It just might be a good idea to make sure you're well, is all."

"We should all ensure we're ready for anything, no?" Zevran's suddenly there beside me, and putting a vial of something faintly glowing an icy blue into one of the pouches on his belts. I see him lean forward in the dim lighting of the mage's staffs and purposefully brush his lips against the shell of Amell's ear. "And I always am."

Zevran laughs richly when Amell squawks and jumps slightly away with a hand smacking over that ear and rubbing it furiously in an apparent attempt to rid himself of the feeling of Zevran's lips. "Well, I'll be-" The man huffs a breath while still holding his ear protectively, and then he looks over his shoulder to glare at Zevran. "You're as feisty as an apprentice hyped up on Rivaini coffee, aren't you?"

"The assassin's a flirt, Ren," Jowan states matter-of-factly with a small shrug of his shoulders. "Don't take it personally."

"Assassin?" The other mage parrots questioningly with widened eyes and a dumbfounded look as if he's never met an assassin before. Oh. Well, maybe he hasn't. Actually, Zevran's the first assassin I've ever met too...

"Zevran Arainai, formally of the Antivan Crows," Zevran dips his head and crosses one arm against his chest lightly while simultaneously interrupting my musing. A wicked smirk darkens the elf's features before he continues, "You might be interested to know that amongst my time within the Crows, I have obtained knowledge of over a dozen ways to disable a man," his voice drops huskily with the end of his sentence, while he holds Amell's bright gaze with a smoldering one of his own.

"Oh... that's... interesting," Amell manages to squeak out while looking absolutely stunned. I can see Jowan on the other side of his friend holding his free hand over his mouth while watching the exchange. The silent chuckles he's trying to hold in are bouncing his staff around and making the dull orange mage-light flick about against the walls. I feel an amused smile spread across my face too at their expense.

Sloane clears his throat beside me, and I turn to see him trying to school his features feebly. "Just follow the mages, Zevran," he orders with faux harshness.

"That won't be a problem, Warden," Zevran replies glibly while straightening his broad shoulders, though his gaze strays dangerously low again before his honeyed orbs flick back up to where Amell's still gawking at him over his shoulder. "I am quite enjoying the view."

Jowan snorts loudly at that, and Amell turns toward him with a scowl quite visibly painted on his pinked face beneath his scruff in the soft light of his staff. "Sorry, sorry," Jowan waves one hand about. "Ignore me." Amell 'hmphs', but continues to navigate the halls with fast footsteps after snapping his head forward.

I look towards Sloane with amusement lighting my expression, and making the gloom of our situation clear from it momentarily even with the oppressive and dark sensations still feathering along my skin sluggishly. Sloane's expression is void of the same lightheartedness I'm feeling though when my eyes finally meet his, and it causes a small frown to quickly take my smile's place. "What is it?" I ask quietly.

"Perhaps he's right," he nods his head in the direction of Amell's back, "and you should see the Senior Enchanter."

I shake my head quickly. "I'm sure there's nothing she can do. And if I do need healing, I can heal myself."

His ruddy brows furrow deeper with the shadows playing harshly on the square contours of his face, "She had seemed to possess quite a bit of... insight on you, when we had spoken earlier. Regardless, she should at least know of a way to lessen your nausea, since she is a healer of the magical variety." I frown harsher in turn, and he sighs a long sigh, "At least see her to assuage my own fears. Please, love. I couldn't bare it if something were to happen to you here."

I feel my frown let up some while I think on that. He does look quite genuinely worried and distressed. And maybe... Wynne might know something that could be useful. She's a senior enchanter after all. I can... I can stand to be in Wynne's presence for a little bit, at least. Can't I? I haven't even spoken with her yet. In person, and not in the game. My opinions of her then shouldn't matter now. "Okay," God I'm such a pushover, "but our safe-word is grapefruit. Got it?" I point at him with one finger, while my lips thin in mild annoyance despite my agreement to his request.

"A... safe-word?" He looks confused with his head just subtly tilted and his eyes narrowed in thought.

"You know," I wave a hand while I try to explain with timidity coloring my voice. I can't believe I have to explain. Shouldn't he know? "A word you agree to say when something gets too... uncomfortable. It's... usually used during sex," I say just a touch bashfully, "but I'll say 'grapefruit' if I want you to get me away from Wynne."

"I am rather fond of using the word 'bronto' for such purposes," I hear Zevran comment from where he's still walking near us and totally eavesdropping on our conversation. "No one shouts 'bronto' if they are quite enjoying what you're doing."

I nod my head and feel myself relax some while I wave with one hand in Zevran's direction briefly, "See? He knows."

Sloane blinks a few times while he processes this new information with a perplexed look firmly in place. "I shall listen for the word 'grapefruit' then?" His words are more of a question than a statement though.

"Sounds good," I struggle to smile at him, before I look over my shoulder briefly to where Wynne's walking several paces behind us all with a soft white mage-light illuminating the area around her. I turn with the intention of walking towards her when Sloane reaches out and takes my bicep in his hand gently.

"Love," he addresses me when I look up towards him. "Thank you for doing this despite your hesitance. I should warn you, she is... vexing though."

My lips thin again, "Yeah. I know." I say simply, before I start walking towards the back of our line. I wave companionably at Alistair briefly on my way though, and he returns the gesture with his plate and mail armor clanking loudly in the unnatural silence of the place we're in. Wynne's eyes regard me coldly when I finally turn to walk beside her with at least an arm's length of space between us. Without much hesitation, I start to explain why I'm there beside her. I swallow any nervousness, and promise to myself to at least give her a chance even with my preconceptions of her. "Sloane... the Warden Commander," I correct, "wanted me to seek healing from you." I attempt to speak in a way Aereweld or maybe even Sloane would, and even try to force a bit of my distinctive accent from my voice. It's difficult, and I don't think she's really buying my attempts to come across as 'normal'. I don't think I could explain everything to her in any sort of reasonable way. Not that I should have to. I can speak and act like a 'normal' Ferelden.

Wynne looks at me critically for a moment with narrowed eyes, "What ails you?" she breathes shortly.

"I... have been made reaver by way of blood magic inlaid in my flesh," I speak slowly and try to explain while maintaining my attempted Ferelden-ness, "the lines are... sensitive to shifts in the Veil. I'm... nauseous."

"Perhaps you should have considered such things before you allowed maleficar to grant you such abilities," she says scathingly, and seemingly without much prompting such blunt, cutting words.

I'm gaping at her and stuttering while my accent comes back full-force, "I-I never," I take a quick breath in preparation of continuing, but she interrupts.

"You see what it has done here, haven't you? Blood magic only brings pain and suffering to those who are foolish enough to believe it would benefit them," she sniffles disdainfully. "I feel no sympathy for those who do."

"Do not interrupt me," I snap when I'm given the chance, and simultaneously I feel anger whiplash through me. I return her heated glare when I continue, "Maybe before you go on a tirade, you should actually know something about the person you are belittling." I feel my face scrunch severely, "I was kidnapped by a cult of blood mages who thought it would be fun to stick a bunch of blood magic in my skin and turn me into their pet bitch," I notice in the back of my head that my voice is rising while I'm spitting all these very personal things heedlessly, "I did not ask for this. And I never would. I cannot control it, and it fucking hurts all the damned time!" I huff a breath while glaring up at the older woman, "I knew it was a mistake to go to you for help. I was apparently wrong to think you could." I curl my hands in on themselves and move to stalk off without even having needed to use the word 'grapefruit'. And now I'm pissed over nothing. A waste of fucking time...

"Wait," Wynne calls towards my back in a voice that's the smallest bit chagrined. "Perhaps... I can attempt to ease what ails you."

I turn around and stop in the dark hall before her, "And afterwards I do not want to talk to you ever again," I say quietly. I haven't had anyone throw such hurtful accusations at me in... in a long time. I don't have to deal with it. I don't deserve it. She nods her head once, and holds out one faintly blue-white glowing hand that encases me in the glow of it after a moment. The feeling of nausea slowly eases from the pit of my stomach, but the sensation of the dark magic lapping at my skin is still there when her magic fades completely from my body.

"That should last for a time, at least," she says, and flicks her eyes away from me before she starts on walking again with a defiant set to her jaw and an unreadable expression on her aged face.

She didn't even apologize! I huff a breath angrily, and walk back quickly towards Sloane and the others while ignoring everyone I pass. I'm consumed in a whirlwind of my thoughts and feelings at the absurdity of my interaction with that woman. "Do you feel better, Karie?" Sloane asks me in a quiet tone, and breaks me slightly from my brooding. I'm staring at the bloodstained floor cursing, well, cursing Wynne and blood magic silently in my head. I just knew I wouldn't like speaking to her.

"Yeah, but I don't even know if it was worth-" I look up to meet his gaze, and pause in the middle of my sentence when I notice an odd look held in the lines of his tawny skin still streaked with dirt and sweat. "What's that look for?" I ask a bit befuddled.

"I'd informed him of what kind of activities would typically require the use of a 'safe-word' as you call it," Zevran comments in a pleased tone a couple steps away. "In detail. Your Warden is quite lacking in knowledge on such things," he sighs a long, drawn out sound, "It's quite a pity that such a magnificent man has not yet experienced such pleasures."

I turn towards the assassin still in the pissed mood from the conversation with Wynne, and speak to him atypically sarcastically in a biting tone, "Well, thank you."

"You are quite welcome," he grins cheekily at me with pride and amusement both shining brightly in his eyes.

I look towards Jowan's back then with a hand swiping across my face in a mixture of exasperation and frustration, "Are we getting close to the stairs yet, Jowan?"

"We are nearing the doors now," he turns slightly to look towards me in the orange glow of his pole-arm-like staff, "Tired of the Circle already?"

I nod and mumbled a barely audible, 'yep,' while wishing that the doors were right there just because I'd like to be preoccupied with something else right now. Even if they're just stairs.

A/N: The input was surprising and amazing last chapter guys! :D Hopefully this one gave you all more insight into Wynne's thought processes here. Remember, she is distressed over the state of the Circle right now. Though that's not really an excuse, I'd just thought she'd be a little more harsh than normal.