He nodded, his thoughts along the same line. It was good to have others to focus on, to be able to move from moment to moment without the luxury of dwelling. He had dwelt on Ostagar more than he cared to let on. This most recent debacle would likely replace those darker musings for some time to come. Later, though.

Now it was about the flow of battle, something that contained a rhythm of its own. He was cognizant now that all of their enemies weren't necessarily strangers and weren't without their own odd defenses. Magic, who knew what else depending upon what world they came from. He approached the onslaught with that caution in the back of his mind, always aware of Elissa if not precisely watching her nearby.

His blades flashed in deadly arcs, his preferred area of attack low, his method to cripple and then dispatch. He didn't count the fallen. It was no game to see who could best whom. They kept coming in a way that felt all too familiar, and he knew the outcome here would be the same as it would have been at home if he gave in to the burn of muscle or the shortness of breath, pitiless death. So he fought and fought some more, until that swath, too, was cleared and they finally had some breathing room.