[center][h2][color=82ca9d]Irian Sinewell[/color][/h2][/center][hr]
Seeing that the merchant was willing to share her share of the ration, Irian felt a little bit guilty asking for seconds. He made note to repay the favor later if possible, having had his share of rations of his own too. Or he could maybe forage for some fresh fruits for the entire camp later. It was much better than normal food more often than not. He also was going to make it clear of his relative deviance when it comes to Veltian cuisine, but the call to arms came a bit too soon for that. The elf gave his two-fingered salute to Lirrah before hopping back onto the tree he came from with two taps of his feet. 

From the high vantage point was where his expertise unveiled in subtle ways. The remarkable silence and lack of movement made it impossible to detect from even closer distance, not to mention at the range these cultists were spotted. His bow and arrow at the ready, drawn only when the Steel princess gave the order. Irian opted out of a magical arrow for now, seeing that the glow would simply give his position away pretty clearly in the darkness. 

In this low visibility environment, Lirrah's source of light proved invaluable for every archers in the backline, and Irian was no exception. His arrows followed the light source with precision. He could see one getting hit in the neck with one, the distance and angle made it quite likely it was his. Seeing more cultists creeping up into the light, the elf drew a few more arrows from his quiver, and placing two on his bow, each separated by his hand, reserved for two cloaked individuals trying to get in on the raiders a few feet apart from one another.