Dimitri was not defenseless, weapon or no. Even without the boons of his crest, he was strong, trained in martial combat, and still hot off the tail end of a very bad time in his life. He wouldn't kill anyone, but he sure as hell could hold his own.

That said, he was not displeased to see Imogen moving as he turned, stepping away from the creature's — some indescribable thing, almost like the Tavernkeeper — creeping fingers. It must have realized in that instant that it had been spotted and was about to be attacked from both sides, because it was merciless in its mental assault then, sending visions into Dimitri's mind that could only be described as inappropriate.

It must have been because she was there already in his line of sight, but the sudden urge to grab Imogen and push her against the nearest sturdy surface was absurdly intense. Dimitri's eyes widened. He shook his head. "What are you doing, foul beast." He snarled.