It was foolish of Alayre to wander off like this so far from camp but without decent scouts, someone desperately needed to take up the task. The ground here is too slippery for him to take up his usual stances. His swordsmanship is usually close to perfection but his movements here in this swamp are a tad off due to the wet terrain. The Knight-Commander is having trouble keeping the horde at bay until a magical paling suddenly engulfs him.

Surprise lingers within Alayre's gaze as he quickly turns to see none other than dear Sam there. The feel of having magic cast upon you is quite similar to feeling the warmth of a fire. It's oddly comforting despite how peculiar it feels against him. There's a hint of shock there, as if lightning struck him and buzzed through his body. Barely given the time to revel in this phenomenon, Alayre paused once saw a few zombies get struck down by arrows. A confident smirk appears briefly as he turns to the direction of the archer.

"How good of both of you to join the fray." He welcomes them before turning his attention hastily towards a zombie trying to lunge at him.