[ Against his better judgment, he sits up carefully, a hand moving to his injured rib when it sends pain up his side. With his other hand, he wraps the blankets more tightly around himself -- he hates the cold. ]
You leave me little choice. [ Rather than sounding resigned, there's annoyance in his voice. Anger. ]
[ A set of runes on either wall flare to life, erecting a barrier between the wizard and the mage. The flames spread over the invisible wall, but it holds. Warren slams the wards back into place with a snap of his fingers ]
[ When the wards come back into play, it briefly knocks the breath from him, and Dorian lets out a soft grunt. He braces his arm around his middle again, leaning back against the wall.
When he's caught his breath again, he responds dryly with, ]
[ He hesitates again, reluctance written on his face. He settles at last on the short version: ]
I-- have a connection to another plane of existence. I expend energy to draw power, and when you put up these blighted wards, you effectively drain that energy from me.
[ There’s that grin again, and he grabs a notebook from the top of his pile to jot down some notes. ] Another plane of existence? Fascinating. Is that where you’re from or are you simply connected?
[ Warren gives him a flat look for half a second before sketching out a quick spell- it’s not enough to throw Dorian around this time, more like the equivalent to a punch in the gut. ]
[ Warren is nothing if not a man of his word, which is to say that he doesn’t find that answer sufficient so he casts yet another spell and promptly breaks Dorian’s wrist. ]
[ he means it to sound defiant, but it falls flat even in his own ears. For another few seconds, he tries to breathe through the pain. When it dulls to a throb, he drags his gaze to Warren. ]
Whatever it is you wish to learn about my magic, you won't be able to use it. No one here can. You're physically incapable.
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