<em>As the gnoll huntress arrives, the battle continues to rage. Upon closer inspection, Celie can make out that both sides seem heavily wounded. For the demons’ part, one bears an immense wound in his right side that looks more severe than any her greatsword could ever deal, oozing a deep crimson ichor that sizzles as it lands, blighting whatever grass its caress graces, in addition to two burns, one of which has seared and warped its stomach, the other of which has burned an entire pincer arm. Its counterpart, no less foul a tanari, carries a less vicious cut diagonally across its chest, though traces of black shadow seem to emanate from the gash, as if the blow had been empowered by darkness, but its jagged black rib bones are visible through both its sides, the flesh having been ripped away by some dark and potent magic, revealing seething innards. Celie’s knowledge of the dark denizens identifies these vile fiends as glabrezu by their vicious, dog-like heads, maws full of vicious teeth and their four arms, two huge and rippling with muscle upon which sharp, powerful pincers snap, two smaller and dexterous, their rending claws hungry for blood. <br/><br/>However, it seems she does not step silently enough, for, as she quietly ghosts into position, purple eyes glowing with power and malice search the forest for the movement their keen ears detected, and though she is on terrain of her own choosing, one dark gaze settles squarely on her, and its eyes seem to smile wickedly.<br/><br/>However, their three young, lovely, smaller foes give no respite to the monstrous abominations, and, even as Celie begins to raise her bow and take aim, the elven girl, lustrous black hair streaming behind her, lashes out with the speed and deadliness of a serpent. Even though her impression seems strangely—perhaps magically—blurred, not allowing Celie much of an impression save for the daring red of her cloak swirling about her and the pale, glittering mithril of her blade, she nevertheless senses intense focus from the swordfighter as her blade, striking home, slides easily through a weak point in the latter demon’s defenses, slipping through him and skewering him, a deft twist of the blade and the flick of a wrist as it enters his gut causing blood to gout forth, though the nimble warrior elf dodges the spilt blood as she gracefully withdraws her sword.<br/><br/>Her companions, in comparison, are quite clear, and, it appears, more than a little battered, looking almost as if they’ve endured the worst of some bevy of fireballs thrown by some sorcerer, from the burns she can see on some of them. The tiefling, more than the other, stands out. Slim and elegant in form, she seems, even at this distance, to have a unique, angular grace, like a lean gazelle leaping and bounding, as her hands weave through symbols that seem oddly simple for the damage she seems to have made, considering the roiling darkness trailing at the fingertips of her gloved hands. What makes her so singular, however, is not any of this, nor, even, the tail that Celie glimpses swaying back and forth beneath her black cloak. No, rather, it is the vibrant green shade of her skin, not quite so deep or brilliant as that of a planetar, but almost the hue of a strange, exotic plant. However, such is only readily available from the neck up and from her tail; the rest of her is clad in what appears to be dark, almost shadowy silk, translucent, but with multiple layers, allowing the vaguest hint of green flesh beneath.<br/><br/>The last member of the ground, however, seems perhaps the most odd of all five combatants, though only in comparison to the others. Attired in a simple, sheer pure bright pink sleeveless tunic, filled out by her generous bust, though the tunic’s bottom is more similar to a loincloth, though more fashionable, too, than the usual short, almost skirt-like arrangement. On her feet are cute ankleboots, and by the way occasional flashes of light reach Celie’s eyes and the shimmering bracelets she wears, the huntress can tell she probably also has on anklets beneath it. Her form, more voluptuous in comparison with her fiendish ally, is pale and creamy, her legs long, shown in their full length by the outfit. However, as more of her flesh is revealed, it also seems clear that, moreso than her companions, she has suffered from the abyssal blazes her enemies have conjured forth.<br/><br/>A second later, the eyes of the former demon flare with light, and more than half a dozen identical demons surround it. The warlock, however, immediately blasts two out of existence, proving them as illusions. Two of Celie’s arrows, however, bury themselves in the one demon she’s sure is real, revealing her presence to them all. A small smile spreads across the expression of the aasimar, who, reaching out with the wand she holds, touches herself, the magic repairing what havoc the demons have wrought. Not a moment later, however, the other glabrezu blasts the small group with unholy power in a dark black blast of flame, the nauseating reverberations of profane power washing over Celie, even though she remains unaffected by them.<br/><br/>The elven swordswoman, her blade not quite moving as fast as before, strikes at the demon, and, among the illusions, somehow miraculously finds the one that is not a deception, and, as her blade carves two more, thinner lines of blood into the beast, who, in response, tears at her blurred, dancing form, and though his pincers and snapping jaws snatch at nothing, one of his claws catches her with a powerful blow to her shoulder, blood as crimson as her cloak blossoming on the ground, even as the illusions begin to shift and shuffle, to hide the true monster among falsehoods, though even the sorcery of the tanari cannot hide how badly wounded the demon now is. The warlock unhesitatingly looses twin blasts at different fiends, and, though one merely dissipates a figment, the other, stretching to the demon farthest back, finds its mark, obliterating the monster, its false counterparts shattering like glass panes, falling to the ground in pieces. At that exact moment, even as the remaining lone fiend seems to be considering retreat, Celie charges out, greatsword at the ready, her blow cleaving the battered beast in twain.</em><br/>