What in the Maker's realm was Conlan doing? Ordhan knew that some mercenaries employed unorthodox tactics, but none were blatantly suicidal. He couldn't allow himself to be too distracted from the fight, but his friend's recklessness almost angered him. Did he not realize that he had an entire company to back him up, and that the best way to minimize casualties was working with that company? Perhaps he had grown to think of himself as invincible--then again, this was Conlan. Even being suicidal was more likely than that.
If the man survived this battle, Ordhan was going to have a talk with him.
In the middle of the nonsensical shouting, Ordhan did make out something about a girl; had they come across one of the Dalish? If so, his fears of being attacked by distrustful elves were low, given the much greater common enemy at hand--and when the battle was over, perhaps they'd be less inclined to be hostile. With the Darkspawn so close, it was likely she was injured, or being chased by them. Ordhan turned his head, but through the slit of his helm could make out nothing other than the usual clamor of battle around him and the frantic activity of his allies. He could only trust the matter to Jill.
With the exception of Conlan's reckless onslaught, the group seemed to be working in a manner that was just shy of cohesion, but quite a step up from the chaos and scurrying that seemed to be the norm beforehand. Several Darkspawn had already fallen, but many chose to ignore Conlan's clamor and were charging through the ranks. Three had broken off to head straight for Lillian, whose spellcasting had drawn their ire. Cyril had moved closer to defend her, but Ordhan was in place to head them off. With the roar of Darkspawn all around him it was difficult to not allow himself to lose his senses to the battle, to make a charge as reckless as Conlan's, to slice through their numbers like a knife through soft flesh. He had people to protect, now; it was his duty to keep them from harm, to make sure that every one of them survived each battle. And so he would.
The first Darkspawn was upon him in moments, so intent on the mage behind him that it gave little heed to the armored warrior in its path. Fist tightening on the hilt of his sword, Ordhan swung, an attack meant more to gain attention than to kill. His blade scraped against rusted armor and only managed a shallow cut in the gap he had been aiming for, but it was enough. The monster raised both its arms, lifting an axe with a head the size of Ordhan's chestplate high into the air. But the knight was fast for one so heavily armored, and before the axe could come crashing down on him, he thrust, his blade driven through the creature's throat. When Ordhan yanked his sword back the creature fell heavily, landing with an earsplitting crash just to one side.
With a body now strewn in their way, Ordhan had the attention of the other two Darkspawn. They would not so easily join the first. Ordhan did not wait for these to come to him; he charged, barreling into the first with his shield as he swung at the second. The initiative was his, and though it would take longer to kill them both than it would have been had he engaged them one by one, he had prevented their advance. As he fought, falling into a pattern of blocking and parries and swings to fend off both swords, he watched out for any other Darkspawn that could be breaking through to attack the more vulnerable allies behind him.