On Luna's approach, it seemed to only satisfy the demon as the creature began to rise from her chair, invisible arms carrying her huddled body until unfolding to land quite delicately upon nimble toes. There was no real effort from the demon to close anymore gaps, the elf had seemed to do quite well in luring herself towards the demon, although it did not mean that the creature showed any intent on pushing its own boundaries and to entwine its own limbs with the elf. Temptation certainly settled within her black eyes, a look of servitude lingered in the demons eyes moreso that it being there seemed it was only seeking to provide a service for Luna.<br/><br/>Silently, the creature listened with a faint tilt to her head, her obsidian eyes soon tracing and inspecting the figure of the elf as she spoke, inspecting her no less as the demon listened and soaked the cautious words into her being. There was no attempt to interrupt the elf, her attentive listening shown as the demons smile only grew the longer Luna spoke.<br/><br/>The demons voice responded in a musical and caring tone, however a naive mockery stained her words "<span style="color: Magenta">I ask for questions and you throw your accusations so brashly in turn... Does none of this satisfy you?</span>" The demon allowed the elf to soak in her form once more, for what the desire demon stood for. Questionably, that such a being could offer power so freely, the alluring attraction both mental and physical still attempting to hook onto Luna, only trying to lure the mortal deeper into the world of depravity. The same hand ran down her shapely body once more to empathise the desire demons appearance.<br/><br/>Curiously, the demon began to ponder only for a moment, its gaze only faultering to turn her eyes towards one of the many books that decorated the nearby bookcases. An outstretched hand twisted, a smooth energy gently pulling one of the nearby books from its resting place, many books in turn tumbled aimlessly and crashed upon the solid stone floor. The summoned book fell neatly into her hand and sprung open in her rather fragile palm, pages flickering vibrantly until settling. "<span style="color: Magenta">You must seek something that you crave, Luna. I seek only to provide what you only mortals wish for.</span>" The creature smiled, that seductive allure soon becoming a veil over her face as she locked her gaze back with Luna's "<span style="color: Magenta">You must tire of running, Luna. To be held as an offering to my whims. What have you to lose if not to accept my gifts?</span>" She paused, her voice never sounding as harmonic as it did now.<br/><br/>"<span style="color: Magenta">Now tell me mortal. What is it you desire?</span>"<br/><br/>----<br/><br/>Frustration, it was the only emotion that wracked Argin as he finally caught a glimpse of the whole body of the militia and their rallying cries. He had thought that the peasants by now had truely no courage at this point and would be more accustomed of wetting themselves to the horde of murderers he had them face by now. "<span style="color: Blue">Can NONE of you bleedin' sods kill a simple bloody farmer!</span>" He found himself able to yell over the nearby roaring villagers, and oddly enough the music that flooded in their direction.<span style="color: Blue"><i>Could that be the source of their bloody strength?</i></span>He had to force discipline back into the raiders, raiders who already seemed to have been having second thoughts to facing off the men and woman of Greenvale, especially as the torchlights of the centre monument luminated the armour of the bloodstained Templars, and the two mysterious armoured female figures joined by a smaller figure, no doubt an elf.<br/><br/>The man took pause to grapple and thwack his last three bodyguards upon their shoulders to lure them close. Each one no doubt carried a greatsword the length of a stretched out elf resting on their shoulder "<span style="color: Blue">I don't bloody care if we win or lose this soddin' fight now. I want you three to start burnin' this village to the bloody ground! Join the fight, get to those bleedin' torches and I want this bleedin' place up in flames! You hear me?! Gather these scum with you too, spread the bloody word.</span>"<br/><br/>One of the bodyguards took pause, grumbling as uncertain if he was in the clear to interrupt. "Uhrr.. but what about you, boss?" A clear slap around the back of the head proved him wrong, but it seemed Argin answered his question regardless "<span style="color: Blue">I have a head to claim...</span>"<br/><br/>As they parted, Argin was quick to notice the many eyes that had fallen upon him. Scared eyes, unsure eyes. These men felt death tugging at them and it was their shallow and cowardly souls that had them frozen in terror and looking at him for inspiration. The fearsome figure broadened himself, raising the tevinter blade high. It was time for the finale. "<span style="color: Blue">What you bleedin' waitin' for lads? Kill them all! Greenvale is ours!</span>" The bandits roared as the familiar voice rolled over the bandit masses, the bodyguards that once defended Argin now ploughing through the horde, greatswords in hand and roaring in Argin's name. Bandits gathered around each towering figure like a battle standard raised in their honour and the bandits made the first move, their adrenaline pumping so wildly as to make the first attack, ever more eager in their furious and desperate charge.<br/><br/>Argin watched on with a malovent grin, still feeling the rush of bodies running by him as they now eagerly joined the horde to battle for Greenvale, more likely happy enough that they had a couple of bodies to seperate them from the real fighting before they reached it no less.<br/><br/>The man turned casually, rocking the tevinter blade idlely on his shoulder as his large hand gripped the leatherbound hilt tightly, the other hand hung at his side but he flexed his fingers in anticipation for the fight to come. The taste of facing this mysterious figure only sweetened and he grinned in excitment.<br/><br/>As the shroud slowly peeled away to reveal the creature, Argin gave pause, amused<i><span style="color: Blue">Only human? Hah! </span></i><br/><br/>Emotion did not crack the mans face, a face that took on the visage of solid stone. The eyes that locked onto the barbaric man were the eyes of the walking dead, fearless and souless no less. Argin's words poured from him, the words sucked dry from the void in his mind "<span style="color: Blue">Don't disappoint me...</span>"<br/><br/>Argin exploded off his feet, roaring malevolently as the titan of a man charged boldly against his prey. Both hands clasped around the hilt of his Tevinter greatblade and it roared unnaturally as the blade made its first strike downwards onto the man, too fast to consider revealing his abdomen free for a counterattack, aiming only to follow through with a horizonal half moon strike in an attempt to keep the barbarian at a distance at least. To Argin, the man showed no emotion but for Cruran as experienced as he was, it could be possible that Argin was only playing with him.<br/><br/>He posed himself, his footwork allowing him to cautiously step around the man and in no way allowing him to be caught flat footed as he did. His footwork was no doubt practiced. He held his blade upright to show off the majestic shape of his blade. Argin was ready for whatever the barbarian had to offer, and he wasn't going to be above playing fair if it meant claiming that head of his.<br/><br/>---<br/><br/>"<span style="color: DarkOrange">Steel yourselves! Here they come!</span>" Roared Knight Captain Jaeron, the bandits descending upon the militia as a dark shroud of dark leather under the growing midnight from dusk to night. Jaeron raised his blade, roaring an almighty battlecry to the maker, followed by the rest of the milita whos cheers have only gotten louder in tune to the music that hovered above them, cheering in unison to the beat of the mysterious melody combined their chants into one loud cry. Jaeron made the first step in charging towards their imminent foe. The Templars were quick in pursuit of their leader, followed by Ser Katharine who branished her blade in the air for all to see, her own battlecry mixed with the many voices of the militia, roaring hell and fury upon their oppressors with the unknown music only fuelling his desire to survive this day.<br/><br/>The two tides clashed like waves of water beating into each other, the screams of men and women alike flooded the air, mixed with the clashing of metal and beaten wood. Both forces attempted to pour around the edges to close what gaps they could from getting surrounded,<br/><br/>Jaeron roared after each strike, adrenaline surged through his holy figure as he continued to hold his promise in keeping Alex's back as they dug deeper into the bandits ranks, mixed with the Templars and Ser Katharine that held their own. The ironclad figures only wrought terror into their opponents, the unlucky raiders whom had to fight them unable to muster the courage to take them all at once.<br/><br/>Each strike of Jaeron's blade quickly followed by the heavy bash of his shield as he cleared each opponent from view, a quick thrust against his person was quickly parried by a blade to then meet a faceful of tempered holy steel as the shield slammed violently into the victims jaw. Each scenario forcing the Templar to adapt and to feel Alex pressed against his back on occassion only reassured him that the woman still lived. Bandit after bandit lunged at him, time after time he would plough his blade deep into their chest, or to rip it across their flesh, to have them paralysed to the immense pain before tumbling at his feet. It was a bloody dance he knew all too well.<br/><br/>As Jaeron quickly drew his blade free from his fresh victim, opportunity had took hold of a nearby bandit as the desperate victim attempted to cling at the sharp blade that sank so deep into his flesh. His opportunity soon converged as false as Jaeron tore the blade easily from the mans hands, seperating fingers from hands and striking the blade true across the second bandits throat, to shower both him and any nearby patrons of the battlefield in crimson red, gurgling on his own blood before collapsing and soon becoming only a victim of trampling feet.<br/><br/>It was only then did the bellowing commands of brutal figures reach his ear, unfamiliar but the commands so close gave him little respite "<span style="color: Red">Get the torches! Burn it all down!</span>"<br/><br/>Ser Katharine had already began to fall back as the command reached the ears of both militia and raider alike, soaked in red as much as the Templars and villagers were that protecting her. Where could they get fir---- Her sights fell upon the monument upon the center of town, already decorated in many handheld torches to illuminate the building for all to see, followed by the large men that barged their way through the crowds to their destination. She roared frantically, fighting and slashing her way through the crowds in a desperate attempt to reach the monument. "Defend the torchs or put them out! Don't let them get their hands on them!"<br/><br/>For that moment, it seemed only the large men seemed to be making the effort for the torches, the bandits alone seemed only content in fighting for their lives.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>