[center][h2][color=82ca9d]Irian Sinewell[/color][/h2][/center][hr]
It may not look flashy, but the elf in the tree was as silent as any assassin, and just as good a killing machine as any. With consistency, Irian's targets fell one by one before they even had a chance to make a stand. It was almost unfair, given the cover of darkness and the absolutely dominant high ground he possessed, but he knew that if the situations were reversed, those cultists would have no qualm hugging the branch that supported them and gouge out his eyes with projectiles, not to mention the horrific things they would have done to their prisoners. That's why each shot he took was without any remorse or pity, if not much effort was put in at all. 

Given the almost total chaos instilled in the cultists, his allies in the front appeared to have been given the privilege to a free-dance on them. And a lot of them had a rather 'crude' approach when it came to it. Irian would hesitate on the word barbaric, but it did bring up the image of the fearsome warriors of the north, of mountainous strength and fighting lust. But there were flowers amongst the swords and axes. One of the finest examples would be Velvetica. It really was a dance to her, moving in from enemy to enemy with no moves wasted. In a way, there was something to be in awe of in the Steel Princess's display. 

Not being too concerned about the princess's bladework, he turned his attention to the other members of the Lions, who might be a bit more inclined to being surprise attacked. Him, Lirrah and the archers. Mostly taken cared of earlier. Istvan and Urden. There were few desperate attempts, and Irian spared a few arrows to their faces, a luckier fate than having to meet their axes and flails. Same went for Kayliss. The backline cultists, some of whom were trying to make a run for it. They were more challenging targets, and for a second he thought of using his magic for assistance, but the scaredy cats knocked the difficulty down, and thus he decided otherwise. His bow perked up as Irian estimated the distance with a glance of an eye, loosing an arrow right into a running cultist, felling him, hopefully for good. 

At the same time, he eyed out if there were more dangerous opponent in the vicinity, especially close by. He would not enjoy the irony of being counter-ambushed after springing a textbook perfect ambush themselves.