Brigham turns his head (though his muscles protest the motion) as the Herald shouts, sees someone else- more capable than he, especially at the moment, move to aim the siege engine. He turns his full attentions to the two elves, backs stiffly away from the flicker of lightning, uncomfortably close after the strike moments before.

Though he does not falter nor lose focus, he feels a flicker of sadness, ever so briefly, thinking of Daithi's pleas. He takes no joy in fighting the Grand Enchanter, but imagines for the Herald, it is even less pleasant.

He calls upon the earth to damp Fiona's storm (and his own susceptibility), weaving the element so that it interfered with Daithi as little as possible, yet protected him— or at least, gave his best attempt to. There were other mages, Venatori now, one unfortunate enough to stumble across his glyph and finding themselves utterly without mana to cast. Brigham does not lay another glyph, mindful of his mana as the battle between Fiona and Daithi carries on.