The Harken
Sirius smiled, "Interesting. You're a tough one to break, aintcha?"
The elf wielded his unique crossbow, running his other hand along its obsidian-and-bronze material, causing the dormant orbs within it to suddenly light up with a crimson glow. The weapon began to morph; the spine of the bow lengthened, restructuring itself before a blood-red aura manifested a set of bolts along the newly-shaped crossbow.
'He changed the shape of his weapon? He was holding out on me, huh. What sort of magic is that, anyway?' Sirius thought.
An answer came in its own form as Sirius found himself instinctively moving as lightning just as the odd crossbow "clicked", immediately causing the air to rumble in that split-second. The electric instincts of the man allowed him to view everything as if slowed once he focused, witnessing the crimson-infused projectiles as they tracked his own position.