As Granuaile and Hakon began their assault, so too did Dereno fling himself into the fray, Ekresh-Nar sparking behind him as he dragged the daedric blade against the cobblestones. Ebony was self-honing, self-sharpening through use - bound blades always mimicked the wonderous metal. Ekresh-Nar screamed in anticipation as its edge ground itself against the rough street. Dereno knew the first cut he made would kill - it had been a long time since Ekresh had tasted the air of Mundis. 

His first taker, a vampire clad in heavy leathers and wielding a wicked, barbed steel sword, flung himself into the fray. Vampires were, as a rule, faster and stronger than those not cursed with Porphyric Hemophilia. This vampire was probably stronger than most of his own kind, an orc rendered pale rather than the strong green of their race by the disease. The steel blade hissed through the air. Dereno swung Ekresh-Nar into a high guard, intent on taking the blade on his own sword. Steel met daedric ebony with a crack like close thunder, and the lesser blade broke. 

Ekresh chittered with insane laughter as Dereno reversed his high guard into a downward swing, traditionally called 'The Descent of Vivec' in dunmeric sword-style. The blow caught the orc on the shoulder, cutting into his muscled torso as easily as a butcher's cleaver separates a joint, and three times as messy. Diseased blood flowed into the street as the orc died. Dereno wiped his face on a sleeve, not wanting to catch the disease tthe vampire carried. He looked back, attempting to see through the thick fog to where Granuaile and Hakon had been standing, to see if they were okay.

He had to cover his eyes as the night, briefly, became bright as day. A bright pillar of fire had clearly immolated an unfortunate child of Molag Bal, and Dereno suddenly wasn't worried about the two humans. The fire had probably been the enchanter, Dereno mused. She had ever looked like she wished to burn Anvil down, and tonight, she may just get her wish. Dereno offered a brief prayer to Veloth and his ancestors that Hakon would have the good sense not to stand in front of a mage with that kind of power, and turned his attention back to the bloodsoaked street. The fire had checked the charge of another bloodsucker, who had been blinded by the pillar of flame. 

Dereno dispatched the thing with a stab to its guts, spilling the offal into the street for the gulls to peck at. The vampire dropped its handaxe to the cobblestones with a clang, before falling in its own spillings. These ones had been easy, but was it wise to continue on his own? His experience with vampire covens was that they sent the younglings out first to wear out the resistance, and then the elders swooped in to feed. Overconfidence, he decided, was his real enemy. 

He walked back to Granuaile and Hakon, coming back to them just as they finished their conversation. 

"Whatever is out there, I propose we all face it together." Dereno said to the both of them, then pointed up. "The blood moon cares not where the blood comes from, after all."