Hm, most likely, in some capacity. The fellow's a mage and has no compunctions about using his magic. Early in our acquaintanceship - perhaps the first time we met - he attacked me with magic. Poor taste, really, and stupid to boot; that's the sort of thing that can get you cheerily skewered by a bloodthirsty Templar.
[ One good for the objectivity, one for the twitch. Bastien transfers Byerly's foot to his shoulder, holds his leg a bit like he's planning to take it with him somewhere, and kisses him on his elegant ankle. ]
Because I was going to ask you if you wanted me to change divisions or something, but if it is all the same to you, I would rather not.
Right. [ politics, please, absolutely the worst, and he has no intention of ever being in a position to make use of this information anyway. he waves it off. ] So, Benedict. Why is he still here?
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