"Tally ho!"
Berserker charged into the fray, drawing a battle-scarred saber from it's sheath. "Mr. Vincent, I am here to assist you with the kicking of ass! Let's beat these wicked curs and scoundrels into shape!"
Berserker rushed to attack the nearest fighter, be they servant or master, of the opposing side. His sword seemed more like one that would lead a group, but those who tasted it's edge would know to fear it.
"This is... Stupendous! I think..."
Meanwhile, Robert stood back and conjured strategic puddles on the ground to trip up the enemy or slow their movement... Or just dirty there feet, any inconvenience would do.