In spite of Imshael's voice being conversational in nature, if not intentionally grating, it was a deep, full, reverberating noise inside of his head as well. It evoked memories and emotions that he was loathe to express and yet he could feel his even temperament crumbling bit by bit as the heat built up in his chest. He knew this creature, however, know it's intention, and knew how important it was to stay focused especially since the demon was upping the stakes.

It didn't matter how many limbs he lopped off or creatures he ran through they seemed to keep coming. He couldn't even offer Sam a proper nod of appreciation his attention was so fixed on their surroundings--and there was a reason for it. He glanced at Imshael, probing, cunning beast that he was and he knew that the only way to take care of this problem was to destroy it at the root. Attack the demon directly, a task he was ready to brace himself for, leaving Dorian and Sam to fend for themselves as the destruction of Imshael not only took priority, but it was the only way to end this.

But then he glance up from another slain spider to find that a spray of smaller ones were scuttling toward Sam while another Templar was shambling up behind Dorian and he knew he could not let that be. Spitting a curse in the Demon's direction he vaulted over a shriveled spider corps in Dorian's direction. Even Chevalier had their codes and attacking from behind was a disgrace and so he launched himself between the mage and his attacker before the Templar could bring its blade down on his back. This, of course, meant nudging Dorian out of the way, but there was nothing for it.

They needed to help Sam as well, "I...have to get at him..."