Simon unstraps his sword, curiously relieved in spite of the task ahead. The idea of trying to slip through unnoticed had had him on edge, ready to crawl out of his skin, but he knows where he stands with a direct approach. It's just enough of a relief to prompt a small smile at Malcolm's joke, in spite of himself.

"Got it," he says. Two meat shields and a magic shield in conjunction--it's as good a defense as any. He looks to Kain for confirmation, and moves out at as fast a pace as he knows he can sustain, every muscle tensed as he tries to keep all the nearby undead in his field of vision.