Zarkith watched the five members within the room with a careful eye. His attention lingering for a moment on the man who shot up one pillar to gain a bird’s eye view of the battlefield. At first Zarkith feared he might possess some kind of missile weapon to fire at the other combatants, but from a glance he seemed to possess none. Neither did he seem to pull one free for quick use. The man, who looked almost more like a boy really, was easily the smallest one here. Which from the looks of things made him one of the faster more agile ones. He had to have something up his sleeve to have survived this long. 

He kept the little man at the corner of his vision just as he noticed the last to enter. Zarkith eyes narrowed at the sight in surprise. Not just because she was a women, but because she was an elf. A people whose pride outclassed even the proud warriors of Clan Zack. His thoughts on the little man being the fastest were also quickly stamped down cold. He had fought enough of those of elven blood to know they made up for precision and speed what they lacked in physical might. This one like all her keen was also stunning in ways no normal woman had any right to be, and while she was a bit pale for Zarkith's taste, he had to admit she did have a certain air about her. Her ass was not too bad from his angle either.

He quickly buried such distracting thoughts with the trained mind of a soldier and saw the stock still figure in the middle of the room take a swap at the man in the well noble cloths. Just moments before the man with the head sent it flying away. He also noticed he had quickly taken interest in the elven women, his eyes fixing on her delicate but powerfully muscled form. The black haired man smiled as he began to address the women directly. Zarkith noted the location of the little man on his high perch. A high ground he would have a difficult time capitalizing on without a longer ranged weapon, jumping from on high was his only mode of attack. That or throw his weapon away.

Nullifying his advantage was simple, Zarkith quickly ducked to his left past the wooden pillars placing himself on the same side as the little man and thus beyond both his reach and his sight all together. Doing this even as he shifted forward toward the dark haired man attempting to strike up a conversation with the elf. He swept in using the wall on his left to cover that flank. Even as the low roof hid him from the man above. He was a couple feet away from the dark haired on, roughly sixteen feet. Sword leaning down across his chest tip pointing to the ground as he ran his long legs covered the distance in five great strides. Just as the dark haired man finished his inquiry to the elf female Zarkith stopped short, just 6 feet away from the man's right flank, some 6 feet to Mordem's 4 o'clock to be precise. He swept Splitter slightly bringing the tip back to his right side, similar to golf swing, though not nearly as far lest he be struck for leaving himself open. As he cut, he aligned the long edge to face forward and began to cut upwards from the guard he had let the sword rest when in his run, passing forward so that he struck at the same time his leading foot landed, extending his arms outwards to reach the opponent from a safe distance.

The cut was aimed for the hamstring in the hopes of at least putting one man out of the fight, then using the momentum to relax into a quick Ox guard naturally. The sword hilt held to the side and slightly above Zarkith's head, on the side of his back foot. Effectively pointing the blade straight at his target in order to keep him at sword distance. Zarkith doubted it would be that easy however, but at least if nothing else he would get the man's attention and use him as a kind of shield from the elf warrior armed with the spear. The pillars would help funnel them he knew, but he also knew they marked the border of his strokes for the time being.