Father Beacom took a quick step backwards from the drow out of sheer surprise at the elf's sudden change.  Then he furrowed his brow, not in fear, but in anger and he looked down his nose at the taller drow defiantly, the small bit of light from his single candle illuminating his sharp features, "A son of Lloth dares to lecture on the virtues of light and dark?  Leave this chapel at once, drow" he commanded.

If he heard the half-orcs arguments, he paid them no heed..

Cedric sucked in a breath as well.  After the events at the barn, and Eve's hurried explanation before she had collapsed, he suspected something of the sort, but to see Tarquin transform right in front of him was still a bit of a shock.  He tensed, but made no move yet, not even sure which side he would take if things took a violent turn.  For every story he had ever heard of the dark elves painted them as cunning and ruthless killers...