<strong>Marc Alton: In the name of the Maker<br/>Northwest of Ostagar, in the Korcari Wilds with Ruvena</strong><br/><br/>During the tussle between the new templar and Gale, Marc wisely kept his hands in the open.  His feet swept the pine needles and dirt away from beneath him, so that he wouldn't slip if he had to run.  He knew right away that the new templar was an experienced mage hunter.  Gale's attacks, fiercer than most, did absolutely nothing to slow the templar's charge.<br/><br/><em>Could I outrun her?  Certainly.  But then what of Gale?  And if I do get caught...</em><br/><br/>Marc decided to stay put.  He had feelings for Gale, he didn't want to just leave her to die.  Or worse, let her get sent back to the Circle.  A plan was already forming in his mind.  He had led the escape, but this new templar didn't know that.  Anyone who had known was dead now, for that matter.  Better to not give reason for--<br/><br/><em>"And what of you, mage? Apostate, or no?"</em><br/><br/>The templars words, a sliver of ice cutting deep into the silence of his mind, startled Marc from his thoughts.  He spoke quickly, raising his hands in alarm.  "In the Maker's name, templar!" he shouted, his voice slightly cracking in panic; fake or genuine, impossible to tell.<br/><br/>"Stay your blade!  We are both mages of the Circle, separated from our group in that slaughter.  Gale didn't weather the night well; she was fit to attack<em>me </em>when Alla came along."  Marc's voice bordered on pleading, his expression one of appeasement.<br/><br/>"Please, don't kill her."