Kim
***He gave no respite.*** Once his blade cleaved away the arm of the now doomed man Tarin quickly shot out his free hand in a palm strike- his palm clapped against the bandits chest and with a concussive blast blood bone and viscera splattered over anyone and anything infront of Tarin- if the shield stops such things as those all the better for it would provide a momentary veil for him to use.

Without missing a beat the cursed man moved again, his large blade used like a shield- braced against Tarins forearm- and he deflected one firebolt. The second he managed to dodge by dropping his body low-

"***Damned archers.***" He felt the flaming arrow stab into his thigh, a pity it wasn't something a bit stronger. He ripped the arrow from its lodge, his leg muscles flexing to an inhuman degree which caused the wound to seal nearly instantly.

"***You'll have to try harder than that to kill me.***" The tone of the man before them all has changed within the moments of the exchange, instead of sounding enraged and malicious like before he sounds- indifferent. With a clench of his fist the arrow splintered in his grasp and with inhuman speed he hurled the arrow head at the bandit to his west- the sharp object piercing through their eye as if they had been shot by one of the dwarven powder guns.

** **
Within the same breath as the arrow-head being thrown the cursed man turned and drew the staff from the holster across his back- oddly enough, Sweet Tooth watched the staffs end stay still until the cursed man pulled the whole of the staff out- as if the holster was magical in nature while also still being physical enough to hold him without a problem. He swung the staff with one arm, looking more like a short stick than anything, but mid-flight the staff grew in length rapidly until he cracked against the side of the head of the bandit who'd been to his west. The staff directly hitting the temple, death in one strike.

"***What disgusting people you are.***" Holstering the staff and brandishing his large sword the cursed man glared at the golems- archer and Sylvar himself. Distain and disgust fill his tone. "***Acting as if the poor witch is some prize for you to get your grubby hands on. Despicable. What, couldn't make it as a decent person so you turned to a life of crime and his backup plan if you fail is to marry the witch and move on?***"

Tarin spit on the ground before Sylvar. 

"***No wonder you cling to men and woman, golems and magic to fight your battles. You're a weakling. Not worth my time.***"
Charles
"Boss!" 

*As the archer calls out from her perch, Sylvar simply dismisses her concern. One by one his lackies drop like flies and the remaining spell swords begin to falter backwards. Without their frontline, they are nothing and seem to be fully aware of their own vulnerability. This causes them to promptly retreat where the Golems can take their place instead. But such cowardice gets no man anywhere in this walk of life. As Sylvar's veins begin to turn black, he draws his own blade and makes two forward motions with it. They are graceful but such beauty is promptly ended when both spell swords meet a swift end. Necks cracked and bodies laid lifeless.*

"I try not to kill women, go on sweetie... Get out of here." *The elf commands in a tone sultry.*

*The archer tries her best to keep her resolve but she has fought with these men, sung with them. It was not this demon that killed them, but their very leader. She knew he always had a bit of a temper, one that Navien often kept in check. But never did she think he would stoop so low to drop his own men who only wanted to survive. Unable to find her words, she simply nods and slides off of the tree she had been perched on. Her breathing heavy, her senses dull. She figures she is to go and catch up with Navien's group. Yes, that's it, she can live another day under his command. Sylvar is allowing it so she must act swiftly.*

*But the moment she takes her first step the last thing the woman sees is the sky. Memories of her brothers, living on the streets and being picked up by the captain. A life played out in mere seconds and a thud that falls into the grass. Her vision soon turning red before all is black... For Sylvar had no intention of letting her leave either.*

*If Tarin is cursed, then Sylvar is a true devil.*

*The man simply laughs as wind flickers off of his palm. The very magic he had used to take that girl's head the moment she turned her back to him, not once taking his eyes off of Tarin. Licking his lips, the elf grows excited to the thought of exchanging swords with this new and exciting opponent. His blade glows a faint green and the elf steps forwards, his arms extended as if to receive and encore for his efforts. Navien is long gone now and there is no one to keep him in check.*

"Why thank you!" *The man chirps to the insult, smiling even wider.* 
"But disgusting and despicable I have heard a million times over. Ignore my friend Navien, he has a soft spot for weak birdies like the witch."

*He continues to taunt and prod. Though the witch is not hurt, it wouldn't be beneath him to do something cruel to her if she were left in his grasp any longer. But clearly they are duty bound... To something, so he isn't touching her. His words do get to Sweet Tooth however, whose head pokes back out again and the fae lets out a monstrous growl. A tone not heard before, a sound that should not be able to come from its little form. It's spirit body begins to twitch as the magic surrounding it seems unstable. Little Sweet Tooth is holding something back and it promptly returns to hiding in hopes to calm itself down.*

"And careful now, the very woman you want to save uses magic all the time. Had to put her to sleep though, the pretty thing!" *He continues, laughing with every word he speaks.*
"But I don't want to talk about her. I want to talk about you, o' cursed soul. Shall our blades take flight in this destined night? Hmm~?"
Kim
Tarin watched with growing malice as Sylvars soldiers are cut down by his own volition. It made the pit forming in his gut grow all the larger, an eagerness to snuff out the life of one so monstrous and cruel. He felt his heart beating at a faster pace while adrenaline began to surge throughout his body, his excitement was slowly being replaced with something much darker and the cursed man doesn't know if he will be able to control those urges now that such careless butchery has taken place before him. Killing doesn't phase him, he does that for a living, but to take lives just for the sake of it... That doesn't sit right with him.

He heard the noise produced by Sweet Tooth, not even mildly upset that the little wisp poked his head out against what he was told, its understandable.

"*Calm yourself Sweet Tooth, it's alright. I'll make sure he doesn't say mean things about Esme anymore, I promise you.*" He whispered to the little fae in the holster on his back, hoping he can ease Sweet Tooth and keep him calm. He doesn't know magic as well as most but he can sense power and right now Sweet Tooth reeks of it.

"***Save the theatrics, if it's a fight you want I will gladly give you one.***" The cursed man reached back to the holster, putting away the large blade the same way he had the staff- and then he pulled out a chain. A long metal chain that exuded magic, and he attached its end to the hilt of his oddly shaped dagger now held in hand.

"***But... I should warn you, cries for mercy will fall on deaf ears. Don't let your ego be your end.***"

His eyes steeled as he began to approach the elf, each step carrying enough weight behind it to leave large footprints in the ground.

"***Let's begin.***"