[center][img]https://i.ibb.co/DtzPDwW/Marduk-Banner.png[/img][h3]The Swordwind Cometh[/h3][/center][hr]
As sudden as the storm of Fomorians that had appeared in the village, so too did a tempest of glistening gold. Among the grotesque gnashing and groaning of the cursed kin, there arose the primal roar of none other than a man cloaked in shimmering robes. He would descend from the rooftops as if appearing from the very skies, a quarterstaff of verdant brown wood pointed directly at the back of one of the quadruped Fomorian's skull. With a sickening crunch, the cloaked man would land on the beast, his staff crushing its skull into many pieces. The momentum of his landing caused the monster's body to messily skid across the field, leaving behind a trail of black blood as the cloaked figure glared at the closest two goblinoid Fomorians, his emerald eyes overtaken with a dull golden hue; to those familiar with the Elves, it is one of many signs that one is entranced by their Leargas.

Before the Fomorians could act further, the cloaked man released his staff as two iridescent golden daggers coalesced into his hands. They would each be swiftly thrown, striking both cursed creatures. One would find purchase in its target's shoulder, obliterating much of its upper torso with burning gold as its arm would wildly fly away from the rest of its body, while the second dagger would cleanly fly into the other's howling mouth, disintegrating much of its head in a mist of golden ash. It's as if these very blades burned away at the curse that permeated the flesh of these monstrosities, unravelling them at their core.

As more of the Fomorians approached the new arrival, the daggers would fade away as the man spun in a flourish. As he did, an ethereal golden sword, far larger than any normal man could wield, appeared in his hands. It tore through the charging Fomorians, leaving a mist of gore and gold in its wake. Their mutilated bodies all fell, their wounds searing with blessed cinders. As the man had spun, his hood would fall off, revealing his very visage: he was young, unnaturally so, his stark white hair painting a contrast to his otherwise youthly face. Unlike most entranced Elves, it was painted with an expression of pure anger, as if the very existence of the cursed beasts that lay before the warrior offends him greatly.

"[color=BF4545][b]You all will wish you didn't betray the last god you could pray to! Come, fall by my blade, children of blight! Fall by the blade of the Swordwind![/b][/color]" He howled an open challenge to the Fomorians, slamming the tip of his blade into the ground and making a grandiose pose, revealing his muscular form, unarmored and unchained. Soon, his eyes would center on a particularly cursed figure, an interested grin painted on his face as he eyed the Knight Encased in Ice.

"[color=BF4545]You... you reek of curses. Show me what you can do.[/color]"