When Doc has time to think it over a little later he might be a little miffed at being called a meat shield. Just because he doesn't have his guns on him doesn't mean that he's not good for anything else.

Although it seems he has a knack for getting them into trouble right now. He stops just short of following them down the ravine, aided by Dorian even if he could have well taken the mage down into the abyss with him. On top of not being fond of heights he's not very fond of small, dark spaces either, though this feels hardly small.

There is nothing to be made out in the darkness but that sense of Mathias herself leering back at them with her keen, spiteful eyes. She has been a cruel mistress thus far and he expected nothing less of her, in all honesty.

His shoulders sink with the weight of more than just this town as he swallows and steps away from the edge, backpedaling until they're well away from any chance of a stray gust of wind causing any unfortunate accidents.

"Let's leave," he hears himself say. He would have apologised if he'd been in the right frame of mind but he's unlikely to say much else for the rest of the day.