He'd really rather not take out one of his trump cards this early in the game, especially since he still doesn't completely understand the rules. And he hates not understanding the rules. So Alacruun centers himself and barely even flinches as a shard of whatever it is they're throwing catches him in the arm. He grits his teeth instead and draws down, searches for that inner reserve of strength, and comes out swinging. They may only be cantrips, but his spells can still hurt. They can still kill and wound these things - so he goes at it in a flurry of spellcasting, targeting as many as he can before fatigue can overwhelm him.

He moves with her, sticking at her back and lashing out at anyone or anything that gets too close or threatens to get around her. He's going to live, regardless of what this world throws at him.