"Oh? A Demonborn.. how interesting." Unlimbering his bow from his back, he strings it with deft hands, moving with the speed and grace belonging to one of the Elvenfolk. He draws an arrow from a quiver at his hip, muttering words in the language of magic. His favorite type of magic, Wordcrafts, using the language of magic rather than runes and paper, to craft and weave a spell. The arrow seemed to shiver slightly, and twitched to the side. A curving arrow. Speaking a few more words to cast a perception filter on it, he aimed and fired it. It curved around the crowd, and hit one of the clergymen in the leg. A beat passed, and then blood leaked out. Of course, like any sane man, he screamed. It was not lethal, just very painful. The best part? It looked like it came from the opposite side of the street. He smirked as the clergymen started to scatter, like the scared insects they were. It intrigued him, however, that the Demonborn Child (As his mother's folk knew them as) stood his ground. Jumping down from the roof, he quickly maneuvered the back alleys, arriving on one side of the street near the Demonborn. The Clergymen were still trying to safely remove the arrow, as blood pooled on the ground, slowly. "Hey, Demonborn... come here, would you?" His Longbow was strung, resting on his back, and the only other weapon he carried was the long dagger at his side. While his strength was greater than that of man, it was not greater by much, and his speed was impressive, as was his agility, but overall he would be insignificant in combat compared to a Demonborn.