Alistair certainly gives off an aura of being fairly competent- the structure of the Wardens is still fairly shady for Thranduil, so he's not sure if all the shine on his armor is just for show or if means anything beyond skill with a polishing rag- but he's apparently unused to command, and Herian's never led anything other than her refugees.
(That Thranduil might himself be useful here is dismissed- he'd never trained with these people before, doesn't know strengths and weaknesses and wishes for the competence of his elves before refocusing on what's before him.)
"Understood." He unsheathes his swords- who needs a shield?- rolls his wrists, and as always, tests the boundaries of his strained fëa before stepping out from behind the tree and making for the first archer.
There's an economy to his movements, his choices. A grace born from wanting to accomplish a goal in as few movements as possible. He advances; drops into a roll to avoid an oncoming shot, ends up back on his feet. The wrongness of the situation screams at him as he raises his sword to another elf-- and neatly cuts their bow in half. The halves fly back with the newly loosened tension off the bowstring, one hitting the archer neatly in the forehead. It's easy to take advantage of that, to be inhumanly fast and end up with his arm about his neck, using his body as a shield- please, let these elves not be so deprived as to shoot their own clansman- while he chokes the Dalish man out. No kinslaying.
i forgive u, here's my dumbest icon to prove it
(That Thranduil might himself be useful here is dismissed- he'd never trained with these people before, doesn't know strengths and weaknesses and wishes for the competence of his elves before refocusing on what's before him.)
"Understood." He unsheathes his swords- who needs a shield?- rolls his wrists, and as always, tests the boundaries of his strained fëa before stepping out from behind the tree and making for the first archer.
There's an economy to his movements, his choices. A grace born from wanting to accomplish a goal in as few movements as possible. He advances; drops into a roll to avoid an oncoming shot, ends up back on his feet. The wrongness of the situation screams at him as he raises his sword to another elf-- and neatly cuts their bow in half. The halves fly back with the newly loosened tension off the bowstring, one hitting the archer neatly in the forehead. It's easy to take advantage of that, to be inhumanly fast and end up with his arm about his neck, using his body as a shield- please, let these elves not be so deprived as to shoot their own clansman- while he chokes the Dalish man out. No kinslaying.