[An honorable fight to the death is something Edward generally would like to avoid, thanks.]

I think you're bloody idiots. And dead men. [So be it, then. Edward doesn't bother with a loud declaration, just rushes the nearest clansman with swords flashing in the light. Both scimitars bite into the fellow's torso, and he flips acrobatically away, only for Edward to sprint forward and bury his scimitar into the man's neck the very second he can, ripping it free to block another blow from one of the remaining clansmen.]

How're you doing there, mate? [he calls to Iskandar.] Do you want the leader or shall I take him? No loss to me either way!