Duncan spread his arms and slammed into two at once, forcing them forward into a small knot. As they stumbled on one another and tripped, his blades were a blur of slicing, the silverite cutting into flesh and bone alike. It was more important to immobilize them than get a clean kill immediately. He left behind several from his first charge writhing but unable to stand.

As more closed in, he used his weight and armor as much to his advantage as his speed, silently thankful that no matter what might have been going on somewhere in their heads, they acted slow and stupid. He would never have been able to use such tactics on darkspawn and survived. He slammed into them, kicking and jumping, breaking jaws with his cowters and ribs with his pauldrons and sabotons.

Whenever he became too closely pressed, he retreated among the dead and crippled to trip up his pursuers and take out those he had skipped over the first time. Although every now and then he glanced to make sure Elissa was still up, he was too surrounded to divert his attention more fully.