It seemed to take forever for the battle to actually start, for the Darkspawn to make their way to the ranks of the Wardens and their allies. Simon was sure it had only taken a few moments, if that, but it seemed to take ages as the creatures rallied one another, smelling out the blood of the beings in front of them. Beings untainted who must be slain, as they saw it. Simon spared a glance to either side at those he would be fighting with, seeing the same steely determination on their faces. This pleased him, as he was sure it meant they would not falter or fail in battle. This battle, for many he was sure, was personal. These creatures had taken something from all of them, ruined so many lives.
All at once, it was as though a spell had been lifted from the battlefield, pitching them back into real-time. With a cry, Simon had rushed at one of an approaching group of Darkspawn. The creature saw him coming, letting out a terrible sound as it raised its sword, preparing to take the Templar's head off with it. Simon, of course, wasn't willing to just stand and go down without a fight, and deftly ducked beneath the wild swing. He spun around then before the the creature could connect the dots as to what had happened, driving his sword up beneath the armour on the creature's back. With one angry cry, the Darkspawn fell to it's knees, the life quickly fading from its eyes as it crumpled to the ground.
Again, time seemed to be out of balance as he continued to duck, hack, slice, and kick at the Darkspawn. For ever creature he killed, it seemed three came to fill its place. He had just felled another creature when he was made aware of someone shouting his name. Pulling his sword out of the creature's chest, he quickly turned to see who was shouting. His eyes fell on the elven Warden, Faer, listening as the man pointed out a Emissary. "I'll get him!" Simon shouted back, turning right away to make his way to the newest threat. The Darkspawn that tried to get in his way were deftly dealt with, either by himself, an archer, or another of their party.
Understandably, the Emissary seemed to understand that the approach of the man in armour was bad news for him, and immediately began to cast a spell at the young man. Of course, the Darkspawn's simple brain likely didn't take into account the possibility of a Templar (or even knew what one was), and his ability to purge the magic. It was actually humourous, the look on the creature's face when it realized that it's talent was useless. Not that Darkspawn were as wiling to go down easily, as evidenced by the crooked dagger procured from somewhere beneath the armour. Simon was actually taken by surprised, and rather impressed, with the mage's skill with a blade, and found himself wishing he too had a smaller blade to better block and attack with. The creature was agile, and rather clever, as the Templar was quick to figure out. All it would take was one misstep on either party's side, and the skirmish would likely be over. Luckily for the young Templar, it was the Emissary who slipped up first, thanks to the body of another Darkspawn falling into his path. At his moment of hesitance, Simon moved forward, throwing his elbow into the creature's face, knocking him back and off-balance enough that he could follow through with his sword. There was a sense of satisfaction as Simon felt his weapon slide into the mage's gut. Anyone else might have felt a little sick about it, but Simon simply saw it as his duty. A job well done, in a way.