Rauchnaut approach the battlefield with a rather cold and arrogant demanor: sword sheathed, arms crossed on his chest and head rasied high, not even looking at the combatants. Though, truth be said, the last part weren't quite true - the demon's vision had no relation whatsoever to his hollow and lifeless eye sockets, all attention directed exactly towards the fighting men. Stopping at a slight distance, he began to asses the gathered information, seeking to pick the best available target.

Unfortunately, all of them - but the seemingly invisible one, which Rauchnaut had registered by picking up the soft thud of his landing - had ranged attacks at their disposal, and paired with the open battleground, this would make it hard for him to tussle. Turning his snout towards the ground in dissapointment, he brainstormed the possible routes of advancment, most of which involved pure speed and use of cover - his behemoth body were damn impossible to hide, and deception best worked tet-a-tet, one having no guarantee all enemies would fall for the trick. Honestly, he hoped that somebody would pick him first and free him of the trouble. Really - the only good idea he had come up with was to join everybody in bullying the poor red-robed mage. Yes, he'd probably try that out unless somebody else would issue him a challenge.