Fable - Ask 12 Shots On Target

[Gerard Montefort]

It had been years since the last Time Gerard had stepped into this area of the Allir Reach, where the Allirian Chapter of the Brotherhood of the Bow processed applicants and gave them their first test to see if they had what it took to join their ranks. They only accepted archers that showed great promise and already possessed enough talent to be of use to the guild; they wouldn't suffer any dead weight, because a poor archer was worse than useless.

Gerard remembered the test well, and its somewhat harsh criteria relative to many of the militaries in Arethil. It consisted of a marksmanship test requiring applicants to hit 12 bullseyes out of 40 shots, with shots to the innermost ring of the standard archery target counting as half a point for the requirement. The shots were to be made at 50 meters. Following the marksmanship test, the prospective Initiate must then demonstrate their ability to campaign by marching swiftly through hostile terrain, including some steep hills, marshes, dense forest, crop fields, and other places meant to fatigue the applicant until they reached the end of the day, wherein they must repeat the marksmanship test again, considerably more exhausted and potentially with dirty, malfunctioning equipment. Gerard had seen this test claim many bows, which were unfit to handle the harsher conditions, many snapping in two as the archer went to make their first draw at the day's end.

The 21 men they'd lost to the Lindwurm lingered on his mind, as did the time he'd spent with Teagan Monroe. That incident was why he was here personally training recruits, thinking maybe if he had a personal touch with training the next batch, that things might not end so disastrously. Applicants had started to make their way to the range, and Gerard counted about fifteen of them in total. But the time for arrival was ending, and soon he would begin the tests--they couldn't waste time, as the marching took most of the day and it wouldn't do well to have archers shooting in the dark at the end of the day. He kept his eyes peeled for any stragglers, but then went to get his equipment to begin the test.

Indrani the Huntress

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

The plains of Allir Reach stretched to the horizon, the fertile flat lands dotted with farmsteads and the occasional tree. Beyond the Brotherhood's archery range the plains grew into rolling hills and dense forests- Indrani heard the distant trill of a lark, a high piercing note. She began to hum a soft tune in response, absently rolling a silver coin from knuckle to knuckle.

There was an elf hiding among the human hopefuls. Tall enough to pass for a man, with her lean, lissome frame hidden beneath her overcoat, and her pointed ears hidden beneath its' hood, she didn't think any of them the wiser.

If mother could see me now... The youthful elf smirked to herself, head tilted just so to hide her lips, the coin rolling ever faster. Her mother hadn't really cared for humans, but Indrani had always thought them fascinating. They were loud, slow, clumsy, frail, short, and barely lived a single century...yet they had accomplished so much and spread so far. Would that they hadn't spread to Vel Anir.

She tried not to scowl. She couldn't blame all humans for the actions of the Anirians. They were a different sort, she had come to learn, for she had found no upturned noses or suspicious glares in Alliria, and even seen elves and humans living together.

Still, she missed the Falwood. The impossibly tall, ancient trees, with boughs like roads; the earthy musk of loam in the deep forest; the cicadas endlessly buzzing. It had been her home for seventeen decades. But she had no desire to return. Not yet. Not until she had seen everything that Atheril had to offer... far from Vel Anir.

She watched the humans mingle and tried not to wrinkle her nose at the smell of some of them, to say nothing of the state of their equipment. She was certain one man in particular hadn't oiled his bow in years. Others appeared more competent, for humans, standing taller or more confidently than their counterparts, though all but a few seemed nervous.

Then there was the man called Gerard, the headmaster of the Brotherhood and veteran archer who would be overseeing the tests. He was assuredly different from every other man present. He wasn't particularly large or imposing, and she supposed he was handsome enough for a human, but his bearing was different- sharper somehow- for all that he seemed slightly distracted.

She had heard rumors that he was the greatest human archer alive.

Let's see what that means when compared to me.

Gerard Montefort

 

[Gerard Montefort]

Gerard returned with a set of score cards, meant to mark each applicant's number of successful, scoring shots. The crew before him seemed motley indeed, but such was often the case with a mercenary guild: many thought it would mean free dinner, but such was not the case with the Brotherhood of the Bow. He walked in front of the applicants, announcing the terms of the challenge.

"Fair archers of Arethil, welcome to the Brotherhood of the Bow's testing process. Your ability to shoot a bow will be assessed to determine if you are skilled enough to join our ranks. We offer safe lodging, food, and a good source of gold to those who are faithful, skilled, and diligent with their bows, and their hearts. For the first test, you must shoot at one of these distant targets and score at least 12 Bullseyes in 40 shots. Shots in the innermost ring will count as one-half of a point. Any other shots will be disqualified. Should you pass this portion of the test, you must then march for 12 miles through hostile terrain that will tax you to your limits as a soldier, and then you must make the same 12 bullseyes again. Your performance will be monitored and applicants who impress may have opportunities for rapid advancement within our ranks."

Gerard took one of the guild's signature Yew longbows and a single arrow, then stepped to where a small flag was planted. He readied the bow, nocked the arrow, and pulled back the string using a rawhide patch he had tied around his thumb, the limbs creaking as he did so. He held the full draw for maybe a second before releasing, the arrow flying true and striking his target directly.

He then turned back around, walked to the first recruit he could see, and grabbed them by the shoulder.

"You're up. Show me what you've got," he said. He gave the slightest of smiles, eager to see what these applicants could do.

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

Gerard marched to the front of the throng and addressed the crowd.

Indrani had neither lodging, food, nor gold, but she didn't truly need any of the three, having long grown used to slumbering beneath the stars and hunting and foraging for sustenance. Still, now that she was on her own and far from the Falwood, a bit of gold might prove necessary.

"...For the first test, you must shoot at one of these distant targets and score at least 12 Bullseyes in 40 shots."

Her mouth dropped. Surely she had misheard. Surely he hadn't said twelve shots out of FORTY?! That was...abysmal. From this distance, she could make forty out of forty bullseyes with her eyes closed while dancing the Drunken Heron. From thrice this distance she could do it whilst hanging upside down from a tree and reading poetry.

But these weren't elves, she had to remind herself. And even among her kin, she had been different. She'd had a thirst for the arts of war for as long as she could remember. Sharp things of all sorts delighted her in a primal way; they spoke to her very soul, to the core of who she was.

The man went on to explain that they would attempt the marksmanship test a second time after a twelve mile march. While grueling for the humans no doubt, a twelve mile march wasn't much to her, who had ranged the depths of the Falwood for well over a century. She had no doubt of her own success, but she found herself wondering whom among the humans might persevere through the trials.

Gerard gathered a yew longbow and a single arrow, then stepped up to the marker- a small white flag flapping gently in the breeze- drew in a long, smooth motion, and loosed the arrow. It flew true, striking the center of the target. Indrani hid a smile.

He's not half bad for a human. His technique had been sound, if a bit...unpolished, but she didn't think it fair to hold him accountable for being unable to spend a century perfecting his draw.

Gerard chose a man to start the test, and then it was on.

It became clear to Indrani very clearly that Gerard was an entirely different breed of archer from the applicants. Some were okay, for humans, but others were so absolutely atrocious that she was almost physically sick watching them blaspheme the beauty of archery, and had to avert her eyes.

By the sixth Brotherhood hopeful, she could watch no more. She slipped her way to the front of the crowd and became the seventh. I'll show them how it's done.

Her personal bow was a massive beast of a recurve bow, with arrows like javelins, and she'd bet her weight in gold that no man there could draw it. With it, she could shoot through the targets.

But she wasn't going to use it. It was a tool for war, not tests, made to pierce through plate armor or take down massive beasts deep in the Falwood.

Instead, she held a more mundane yew long bow, much like the one Gerard had used if not a little longer, carved by her own two hands.

Twelves shots, eh?

She gathered six arrows in hand, nocking the first arrow, and glanced at Gerard. She waited until he looked into her eyes before winking and letting loose.

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

Six for six. She didn't even have to look- she could feel the arrows strike true, just like she could feel her hand already reaching for more arrows, feel loose strands of hair fluttering at the sides of her face as the wind picked up.

She palmed six more arrows. She hadn't looked away from Gerard.

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

TWANG! TWANG! TWANG!

These she sent through the first six, splitting each arrow perfectly. It had been the first trick she learned, way back in her fifties when she was little more than a baby. She knew more tricks, but she felt that she'd showed off enough. The humans no doubt knew what she was now. I doubt I'll learn anything about shooting from these louts...but perhaps I can teach them a thing or two?

She stepped away from the flag for the next man to take her place, the slightest of smirks curving her lips.

Gerard Montefort

 

[Gerard Montefort]

The proceedings of the application went rather normally; 12 perfect shots at fifty meters was a difficult ask for most archers, and even Gerard was often subject to the limitations of the bow as a weapon, excepting when he would actually use the Everbow. Part of the purpose of the test was to establish personality traits and an understanding of how a given applicant might deal with certain situations, which was why the test was split into two separate challenges.

The one applicant in particular was fairly easy for Gerard to determine that she wasn't one of the shorter-lived races; he saw it most obviously not in her unnatural shooting prowess, but in her stance. He'd had many elven applicants over the years and the stance was unmistakable to him, as Gerard knew virtually everything there was to know about archery, including how those of other cultures shoot--hence why the Brotherhood utilized both longbows and laminated shortbows, to be used for different tasks.

He was unimpressed by the archer's shooting. He knew that Elves and some Fae were capable of performing far greater feats of marksmanship due to their enhanced eyesight and many long years spent training in the art. Still, he said nothing to the applicant as she landed 40 shots, all on target, without even seeming to really concentrate.

She'd be no good in a battle line. If we take her at all, she'd have to be a Ranger, and that's only if she plays nice with others, he thought.

Still, as she walked away, Gerard couldn't help but ask:

"You sure you don't want to shoot all 40?"

It was a reasonable question. One of the tasks of an archer was to continually shoot until they were either out of ammunition or they couldn't draw their bow anymore out of exhaustion. He was also testing to see if she could follow orders when asked, which was almost as equally an important skill as the shooting itself.

Still, as someone who respected the art of archery, he secretly wanted her to succeed. They could learn a lot from the right elf, and Gerard especially could learn a few things for that book he'd been writing.

Indrani the Huntress

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

Gerard didn't seem very impressed by her shooting. "You sure you don't want to shoot all 40?" he asked, just as she was moving away.

She paused mid stride and stepped back into her stance, lips still twisted in the gentlest of smirks. She could no more turn down the opportunity to shoot than a bird could refuse to fly. "If you insist," she said softly, her voice like the rustling whisper of leaves on the wind.

She palmed four arrows this time, and ceased with the theatrics - though she switched to a left hand draw- and actually eyed her target. She breathed in, drew the bow to a point just to the left of her chin, thumb barely grazing her skin, then-

Quick as a man could blink, she had loosed four arrows down range and was already palming four more. Again, and again, and again, she fired shot after shot, the bow thrumming in her hand as if alive. Her blood hummed with the song of the wood, the dancing tune of twanging bows and whistling arrows.

It was a lively chorus, and one that she knew intimately. Only after she had hit all forty targets did she step away, unstringing her bow and nodding to Gerard as she ambled back into the crowd.

"Yer an elf, eh?"

Indrani turned to the voice. It belonged to a tall, rawboned man with dark hair framing a wolfish face. He was garbed in drab brown leathers and smelled strongly of smoked wood. A woodsman, she thought. She had seen many humans much like him whenever she ventured to Fal'Adaas.

"I am indeed."

He scowled mightily for a moment, then shrugged. "Damn good shooting."

She nodded her thanks, eyes searching the rest of the applicants. Some of them didn't seem to care about her presence, beyond the fact that she represented more competition, but a few men seemed downright angry. Probably Anirians, she thought, brow furrowing.

Gerard Montefort

 

[Gerard Montefort]

Pragmatic as always, Gerard took note of a few important details about this Elf, or Fae: for one, she seemed to be easily goaded into aggression, which was not a particularly favorable trait for someone in the line. She also seemed eager to prove herself, maybe ambitious, even when it was clear she was already the victor. They didn't practice any form of ascetic teachings in the Brotherhood, but having a manageable rank and file was still of the utmost importance.

Yeah, definitely a Ranger, if at all.

Still, her marksmanship could not be contested and this sort of skill really was what made the elves so fabled regarding their shooting ability. It was a tricky situation, but not the first elf to join the Brotherhood, although it was the first one to apply in a while.

The rest of the applicants proceeded to shoot, with Gerard paying little heed to the banter that was going on between them. He'd only speak to the ones that had actually passed the first phase of the test. After the remaining applicants had finished their shots as well, he weeded out those that weren't able to make the cut, then turned to the remaining 8, scanning for the potential elf as he announced the second phase of the testing.

"All of you should be proud of your marksmanship," Gerard said. "Only a few men of the thousands can shoot that well. Now, you will need to prove that you can shoot under pressure. We will march along a path specially prepared to make your life as miserable as possible, and then you must shoot 12 bullseyes again. Gather your gear; we leave as soon as you're all ready."

He glanced out to the forest before them. He hadn't made this trek in a while, and he was a lot older now. Hopefully he wouldn't embarrass himself. He was curious to see how this elf might do on the march; surely even the supernatural races would have some level of exertion in the hostile environments this land offered.

As soon as they were ready, he shouted "We march!" and led the small band into the woods ahead.

Indrani the Huntress

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

When the first portion of the test drew to a close, there were only eight applicants left. Already, half the field gone.

Her half-hearted attempt at secrecy long forgotten after her showboating, Indrani lowered her hood, the points of her ears peaking out from beneath a curtain of long, dark hair. She kept the lion's share of it up in a knot, but there was enough hanging loose to frame her face. She tucked a few errant locks behind her ear.

"All of you should be proud of your marksmanship," Gerard said. "Only a few men of the thousands can shoot that well. Now, you will need to prove that you can shoot under pressure. We will march along a path specially prepared to make your life as miserable as possible, and then you must shoot 12 bullseyes again. Gather your gear; we leave as soon as you're all ready."

She wondered what he meant by hostile. Twelve miles wasn't a particular long march - she had once run thrice that distance while fleeing a rabid pack of mana-corrupted great wolves - but she would be a fool to underestimate the Brotherhood's test. Greater elves than her had fallen to lesser foes for the sin of pride, and prideful though she was, she was no fool.

"We march!" Gerard announced, already strutting towards the woods. Indrani fell in step with the man beside her as the forest swallowed them. She heard its song as she walked, the crackling and rustling underfoot of clumsy humans, the low whistle of the wind whispering through the boughs, birds trilling out in alarm. This wasn't the Falwood, but it was a wood, and they all seemed to feel a little like home.

Onward, she marched.

Gerard Montefort

 

[Gerard Montefort]

As he momentarily looked back to make sure he was being followed, he noticed their "star" applicant had lowered her hood, and there was no mistaking it now--she was indeed an elf. Gerard seemed almost disinterested at this point; after all, the quality was in the shooter, not in the shot, or so he figured.

The forest brought back memories of the terrible beast he'd seen signs of with Teagan Monroe not so many days ago: the Lindwurm. The forest's mouth conjured images in his head of the great and terrible maw of that beast. The forest floor here was dense with brush, and bushes, and the trees themselves formed many natural barriers, making the forest almost maze-like. The trick here, that Gerard was teaching implicitly to the applicants, was to find trails made by game and other forces and follow those instead of trying to fight against the dense vegetation. It was common for applicants to get lost here if they didn't already know, or quickly learn this.

That said, the forest was also the easiest portion of the march. What came next would be much more taxing. Out of the end of the forest was a marsh, a sea of mud and puddles, and infested with insects. It bore a foul stench that permeated the senses, musty and cloying. A fog had rolled over the marsh, blanketing the obvious trails and paths one might use to get through them.

He continued to lead the small band into the fog, and before long they could only see their immediate area. Here the lesson was the same: follow the trail, but reinforcing that intuition was just as useful as perception when determining the correct route. He'd make this all more obvious later, but Gerard always enjoyed teaching through action.

He might have mistaken the sound he'd just heard, and he desperately hoped he was wrong, for he thought he had heard the low growling of one of the Allir Reach's more vicious denizens: Gnolls. Humanoids with the heads of a Hyena, they were fearsome warriors Gerard had fought on many occasions. Many occasions where Gerard was leading experienced troops, and they weren't surrounded by fog.

Before he could relay this to the rest of the group, several gnolls just on the edge of their vision stood up from their camouflaged positions and fired a volley of crossbow bolts at their small band. The majority seemed to miss but struck one of the applicants in the chest, who was knocked to the ground. A bolt also struck Gerard in the stomach, but his mithril chainmail caught the bolt, meaning he was only knocked back from the force of the bolt.

He was panicking, but tried to rally everyone: "To your bows! Pick your targets and focus!"

He readied the Everbow, a magical longbow impervious to the effects of weather and possessing a magical draw that increased power while having an effortless draw. In a moment Gerard loosed an arrow at one of the gnolls in front of their group, his aim true and striking the gnoll in between the eyes, killing it instantly.

He didn't know the size of the pack, but regardless, the situation was dire and he didn't know how this might end.

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

Gradually, the verdant forests and game trails gave way to vast marshlands that were wreathed in dense fog. Soft loam became softer mud, squelching wetly underfoot. The trails they followed seemed to disappear as the walked them, swallowed by fog and thick reeds.

Indrani despised swamps. There were too many dead things down in the mud to rely on her nose, and the fog and open water played tricks with sound, to say nothing of the insects. In the Falwood, rangers rubbed themselves down with special ointments to ward off insects, but they could only do so much deep in the wilderness.

The stench of the swamp grew sharper, more pungent the longer they marched. The musk of unwashed fur was thick in the air. Indrani thought she heard a growl and tilted her head to listen better. She breathed in deeply, nose twitching.

That smells suspiciously like-

Instinct took over.

She ducked low to the earth, pulling the man that was beside her down with her, just moments before a crossbow bolt wooshed over head. The humans only began moving a second after, voices raised in alarm and eyes wide with panic. One man went down with a bolt to the chest, blood running in rivulets down his torso.

And then there were seven, she thought morbidly, something like the taste of failure on her lips. She hadn't known the man, hadn't been his superior, yet she felt responsible for his death. She scowled, brow furrowing. I should've been taking this seriously.

She focused, stretching her senses to their limits. Visibility was low, even for her, and the frantic heartbeats and exclamations of her fellow applicants made it difficult to determine the number of their ambushers by sound alone. At least fifteen, she guessed, but she couldn't be certain. Most likely there were more, for Gnolls bred like rabbits. While vicious, they were weak in very small numbers, but with a sufficiently sized pack they could cause trouble even for the most seasoned of elven rangers.

Gerard rallied the men, but these weren't trained soldiers- they weren't even recruits, yet. "To your bows!" he yelled, already drawing his own- Indrani could almost taste the magic in the wood. "Pick your targets and focus!"

Crossbows were deadly weapons- they could punch through plate armor at certain distances, but they were notoriously slow to reload when compared to the speed with which even a human archer could shoot.

Indrani was no human.

Her first arrow was flying before Gerard had finished speaking, and the second and the third and the fourth, each finding their target with unerring accuracy. Her pulse thrummed in her ears, a steady beat like the drums of war.

They'll move into close range soon. Ambushes - regardless of the perpetrator- generally followed the same tactics. Engage at range, sow confusion and fear, then move in for the kill.

She knocked another arrow, four more tucked in her palm as she drew. "Stay together, men, and don't stop shooting."

She didn't tell them that they were all but surrounded, lest fear make them falter.

Gerard Montefort

 

[Teagan Monroe]

Ever since Gerard Montefort and Teagan Monroe had returned from their mission to find their missing men, he had been harassing her to let him train the next batch of new recruits. It was her job the majority of the time and it had taken quite a bit of convincing before she had given into him. She had promised to stay away and let him do it by himself. It wouldn’t look to good if the Officer of the Troop was showing up the Headmaster, after all. She still scoffed at the best human archer title that he had received because she was better. Proven fact.

Teagan, as it turned out, was a bold-faced liar. She couldn’t stay away. It just went against every fiber of her being to not be there to train her troops. Her archers. Her warriors. She was good though and kept her distance. She lounged in a nearby tree under the canopy of branches and watched the first marksmanship test take place. She watched the different hopefuls and grimaced at some of them. They wouldn’t make it past this first test. Poor kids.

Teagan was growing bored until the tall hopeful stepped forward and made 12 perfect shots causing Teagan to lean forward slightly. Interesting, she thought to herself. She then finished out the 40 and Teagan smiled. She was going to be perfect for the guild.

The second-in-command approved of the cuts Gerard made and those he kept. So far, he hadn’t gotten anyone killed. As the group left to begin the march, Teagan climbed down from the tree and started to follow from a distance. She was one of the best trackers and sneaks they had in the guild, having been raised in the halls from the day she was born. She knew more about the Brotherhood than Gerard did, but she didn’t want his position. She never had.

Teagan heard the yell, "To your bows! Pick your targets and focus!", and she was off at a run. Her bow in hand and an arrow already being nocked as she ran. This was not part of the test. This was a real ambush. “Fuuuccckkkk,” she yelled to herself as she ran, very glad she had not kept her promise.

She hit the mass confusion at the same time she watched the love of her life get struck with a crossbow bolt. Grateful for their armor, she was not concerned with him at the moment. Teagan took one down quickly with her already prepared bow and she was already drawing back again for a second then third as the first hit the ground.

She felt a pang of sadness for the hopeful who had died, but she did not have time to have feelings right now. She drew her bow again and shot a fourth Gnoll between the eyes.

Gerard Montefort Indrani the Huntress

 

[Gerard Montefort]

Between the fog, the camouflage, the arrows and crossbow bolts being exchanged, and the smell, gods that awful smell, Gerard found himself disoriented. Being at the head of the group, he was a prime target for shots and several more crossbow bolts flew passed him, but two hit him again in his armor, the mithril holding but knocking Gerard off balance for a moment.

He thought he heard the scream of a man near him, but his mind was focused on what was in front of them. He could see many of the gnolls were catching arrows from somewhere, but their numbers seemed to grow by the minute. Was this just a hunting party, or a war party? He hadn't seen anything but some of their crossbows so far. Then, in the air could be heard the infamous gnoll laughter, which cancelled out almost all other sound. It was a war cry many men only heard once.

Gerard fired two more shots with the Everbow, landing 2 more hits, then crying out: "They close to engage! Swords at the ready!"

He'd hoped someone would hear him, but these weren't drilled men and he turned back to see one of the applicants running for his life, quickly disappearing into the fog. In a moment Gerard heard a shrill scream. The gnolls must have been very close now. He quickly dropped the Everbow and drew his mithril longsword, its normal blue sheen dulled by the dim lighting of the bog.

Then, the gnolls came--Gerard didn't know how many--and he began using his sword, cutting down at least 3. The sounds of battle began to overwhelm him, as did the terrible forms of their attackers. Another gnoll stepped up to engage him, this one larger and wielding a mace and a shield. Gerard tried to keep his distance, using defensive cuts with his sword, but the gnoll deflected them with its shield and made vicious swings at him. Gerard attempted to step back again, but as he did so his foot got stuck in the bog as the gnoll swung with its mace.

The mace connected with Gerard's helmet as he attempted to duck out of the way. For a moment, Gerard blacked out as he fell to the ground, the impact of the hit having knocked him down.

When he came to, seconds or perhaps minutes later, the sounds of battle were still swirling around him. He clutched his head, blinking rapidly and trying to get a bearing of where he was, but he found himself strangely out of control of his body as he could see gnolls around him being cut down, but Gerard couldn't identify them in his current state. He instead rested, sitting back and leaning on his hands as the world swirled around him.

Teagan Monroe
Indrani the Huntress

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

The mad cackling of gnolls rang throughout the swamp, and beneath it the song of battle.

Indrani had lost two more applicants. One knelt in the mud, grimy face twisted in a grimace, a crossbow bolt jutting from his shoulder, and the other had perished after he ran screaming into the fog when the gnolls began their charge.

A woman had joined them mid battle, firing arrows with a skill that belied her human nature. She wasn't as quick as an elf, but her talent was undeniable, even in the foggy gloom. So this is the Brotherhood's best archer.

"They close to engage!" Gerard yelled, unsheathing a mithril longsword. "Swords at the ready!"

Indrani dashed to the front of the formation, discarding her bow as she went. Her knives were in her hands a heartbeat later, the worn leather grips as familiar as breathing. Another moment, and she was among the war band, longknives flashing. This was what she was made for- the clash of knives, the screams of steel, the howling of blades.

She stepped aside a clumsy spear thrust and carved the nearest gnoll a red smile, blades glinting as she moved. Another step, and her knives flashed again. Two more gnolls fell dying - a third fell, then a fourth, as Indrani dealt death with every step. She caught the haft of an axe with her forearm, twisted beneath a wild claw aimed at her head, and fell to the ground in a roll, hamstringing the offending gnoll with one knife- as she came to her feet, she buried the other in the remaining gnolls armpit, stabbing it in the heart.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Gerard go down, a large gnoll wielding a mace and a shield looming over him.

She was moving before she knew it, almost as if the ground itself was propelling her along. As if she were in rhythm with creation. Her primal mind awakened like a great beast rising from a nights' slumber, and the world sharpened to a point, like the glistening tip of a blade. A throwing knife found its way into her hand from one of the many pockets of her coat; a heartbeat later, and it was jutting from the gnoll's neck. The beast teetered for a moment, turning around as if to glimpse its killer before it died.

Indrani didn't spare the dying creature another glimpse. She had a task, a goal - protect the humans - and her will wrote it into the truth of the world. She became a dervish of steel, knives always dancing, seeking out exposed throats, eyes, stomachs - if it was a gnoll, it died.

Teagan Monroe Gerard Montefort

 

[Teagan Monroe]

Teagan had stopped focusing on mundane things like breathing as pure battle instinct took hold of her entire body. It became the dance of years of practice with her bow that propelled her forward. Load, aim, fire, repeat. She did not count how many gnolls she had taken out but her quiver was soon empty.

She cursed and dropped her bow. Her instinct still driving her as she drew her longsword from its sheath. She had just as many years of practice with it, but it was not her weapon of choice. She did not focus as much of her time and energy on it as she should.

She cut through the first gnoll with an upward strike that sliced through his intestines and organs. She ripped her sword free and moved to the next as the first crumpled. While she was focused on the gnoll in front of her, a spear came flying at her head. She ducked the spear and parried the gnolls attack at the same time. Her leg swept out and brought the gnoll falling backwards. Teagan stabbed into its heart once it was on the ground.

As she stood back up, she cracked her neck and growled. They had to be getting close to finishing off the war party. She hoped at least. The numbers on their side had dwindled quite a bit.

Teagan stabbed another gnoll through the stomach as she tried to work her way closer to the elf woman and Gerard.

Indrani the Huntress Gerard Montefort

 

[Gerard Montefort]

In time, more and more gnolls began to fall and the remaining members of their band began to clarify in the fog, with most of the gnolls beginning to break off, yipping like whipped dogs as they retreated. Gerard was starting to come to, however, when a gnoll with at least 3 arrows in its chest was eyeing him, moving towards him on all fours with a twisted, feral grin; it had lost its weapons, and bared its teeth as it advanced. Gerard however had enough strength now that he thought to his last resort--a huntsman's dagger in his boot--and slid his leg closer to him as the gnoll pounced, landing on Gerard with an audible thud while the disturbing laughter of the hyena-man echoed around them. They wrestled for moments, the Gnoll trying desperately to bite through Gerard's mithril chainmail at the shoulder, but to no avail as Gerard brought his dagger to the creatures neck and plunged one, two, three times. The Gnoll yelped one last time as Gerard finally put the dagger through the top of its skull, killing it instantly as it slumped onto Gerard, pushing him flat onto the ground.

In a moment, he pushed away, or more slid out from under the gnoll's corpse, weakly getting to his feet. His body was covered in the grime and mud of the bog, and traces of gnoll innards. He was a sight to behold, especially with his helmet having a very clear dent in the side. Thankfully, the padding had protecting him, although if he had been even a little bit slower in dodging, he would likely be in the mud with the rest of the gnolls.

Gerard's mind shifted to the applicants now: from what he could tell, 3 remained, counting the elf. The two humans identified themselves as Robert and Pasha, Robert a former Royal Arbalester for the Dreadlords of Vel Anir with a surprisingly transferable skillset to shooting bows, but his backup melee training had prevailed him most here, as most crossbowmen learned decent skill with the blade. Pasha was a horse archer from the Taagi Baara Steppes, and he bore both their distinctive laminated horned short bow as well as a nomad's sabre which was now thick with blood of gnoll.

He then looked to the elf, who he knew was likely a large reason they had survived. He hadn't had the chance to watch her as closely as he would've liked in the heat of battle, but he heard her bow sing more--the creak and shot of an elf bow was quite distinctive to him--than any other around them. He was about to introduce himself, when he finally noticed the extra addition to their party.

"Teagan," he said aloud. His face was grave with concern, for she bore the signs of battle both on her weapons and armor, and on her face. He knew why she was here; it was the first time he'd personally trained recruits in a very long time, and she'd doubtless been watching him to make sure he was doing things right. But neither of them could have predicted that there would be Gnolls here in the Allir Reach, close to the lands of the Spine.

He smiled sheepishly at his love, as he knew he was likely about to get an earful for the way this situation had turned out. He loved her all the same.

Teagan Monroe Indrani the Huntress

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

The gnoll forces broke, scattering to the winds like flies, and a heavy silence settled over the battlefield.

Indrani wiped her longknives clean on a dead gnoll, then wiped them again with a cloth she'd retrieved from one of her many pockets, for the gnoll had been nearly covered in blood. Foul beasts. A part of her itched to hunt them down, but she ignored the urge. There would be time enough later for tracking the remnants of the gnoll warband.

She had more immediate concerns- the humans hadn't fared well. Only three applicants remained, herself included. She felt something like sorrow twist in her gut. Humans already lived such short lives.

"They'll need proper funeral rites," she said, glancing toward Gerard. The massive dent in his helmet gave her pause. "Are you well?"

Gerard Montefort Teagan Monroe

 

[Teagan Monroe]

Teagan was breathing heavily by the time the gnolls had dispursed. She knew it wasn't Gerards fault that they had lost 5 of the applicants but that didn't stop the fury from settling on her face and in her eyes. Her tabbard and mail were splattered in blood, her face had a thin cut down the left check where she had caught a glancing blow, and her pants had a few slices that they hadn't had before.

Gerard smiled at her sheepishly and she continued to scowl. She came to stand next to him without a word. He was fine, he'd survive this. Would he survive later? That was to be determined. She looked at the 3 applicants that remained and sighed heavily.

"Welcome to the Brotherhood of the Bow. This obviously is not how we usually do the testing but I am going to consider it a pass for you. My name is Teagan Monroe, I am the Officer of the Troop here." She paused and wiped both sides of her sword on her pants before resheathing it.

"We will bury them and provide proper rites, we also need to gather their bows and collect our arrows before we head back." Her voice was as hard as the look on her face.

"What is your name?" She was addressing the elf, "we wouldn't have anyone to bring home without you. Thank you."

Indrani the Huntress Gerard Montefort

 

[Gerard Montefort]

As Teagan approached them, Gerard felt a twinge of fear. He'd forgotten how terrifying she was when she was angry.

He said nothing, for now, quietly gathering the bows of the fallen. Most were covered in the muck of the marsh, and he suspected most of the equipment wouldn't be able to be salvaged: such moisture and grime would often warp less well-constructed bows, in particular any bows that were laminated, and he was thankful that the Everbow was impervious to such issues, a fact he felt as he retrieved the blue-tinged magical weapon. His head ached from the glancing blow, but he made no complaint and instead checked on Pasha and Robert while Teagan addressed the Elf. He was thankful, a fact he would make known in a moment, but for now he was content that the situation spared him from Teagan's wrath for at least a few fleeting moments.

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

"A pleasure to meet you, Teagan Monroe." Officer of the Troop? Indrani had her pegged for a ranger.

The elf's true name was a mouthful and a half, and one that she didn't give out often...but these humans had fought and bled with her. "My name is Indrani'ldanarii'eilith, but you may call me Indrani, for short. And I deserve no thanks. If I had taken this test seriously from the start, more of these men might yet still live."

She hadn't been caught so unawares in over half a century, let alone by a warband of gnolls. She was more ashamed than anything else. Never again.

Teagan seemed to be a hard woman, and she had barely been injured despite facing down over a dozen enemies. Indrani thought she might come to like this human.

"Are there any other elves among the Brotherhood?" she idly brushed a bit of gunk from the hem of her over coat.

Gerard Montefort Teagan Monroe

 

[Teagan Monroe]

Teagan let out a low growl and shot a look at Gerard, who had busied himself very quickly to avoid her ire. "If I had been here, more men would still be alive." She was tired of losing her men. She felt the loss of the these applicants even though she had never met them. They were her responsibility and she had let them down.

When Indrani asked how many elves there were in the Brotherhood, Teagan grimaced. "There are none save you," she answered solemnly. "It is not because you are not welcome, but our archers are not up to elven standards so many do not stick around long." There had been a few in her time here, but they never stayed more than a year or two before moving on.

"Were you injured?" She did not see any injuries on Indrani even as she looked her over in the way a medic might do a cursory examination. Teagan flexed her left arm and rolled her shoulder. She had already forgotten that she had taken a hard strike there. It would bruise for sure.

Gerard Montefort Indrani the Huntress

 

[Gerard Montefort]

Having collected the equipment, Gerard checked on the two other men, who had suffered some light injuries in the fighting but who were still whole. He turned and rejoined Teagan and Indrani as Teagan began explaining the nature of the guild and Elves, to which Gerard offered additional explanation.

"It isn't just boredom, of course. Elves have hundreds of years to perfect their shot but often do not learn the ways of soldiering that the Guild values more than raw marksmanship. It's been my experience that most elves are free agents and chafe under our command. Their presence often undermines morale among the men, who feel inadequate by comparison." He paused. "I do not wish to seem ungrateful, but you are my peer and more in marksmanship, and likely saved my life as well as Robert and Pasha's. I should be thankful there was another with skill as good as mine or Teagan’s on this day. Teagan and I have served in the Brotherhood for 14 years together; she is my trusted ally, and the commander and organizer of the Brotherhood itself, and she is the finest you will find among the race of men."

His headache was getting worse, though he tried not to show it.

"You might even learn a thing or two from her, Indrani."

It wasn’t just flattery, of course--Teagan's expertise would be legendary if she were serving for a larger military instead of the Brotherhood. Gerard waited to see how she felt about it, wondering if Teagan was going to finally flay him for messing up so badly.

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

"There are none save you," Teagan replied. "It is not because you are not welcome, but our archers are not up to elven standards so many do not stick around long."

Indrani thought it rather short sighted of her fellow elves to join a company of human bowmen expecting to find equals. They were humans. She certainly didn't join the brotherhood to better her skills- she joined to see the world, find amusement, and kill monsters, in that order.

"It isn't just boredom, of course," Gerard said. "Elves have hundreds of years to perfect their shot but often do not learn the ways of soldiering that the Guild values more than raw marksmanship. It's been my experience that most elves are free agents and chafe under our command. Their presence often undermines morale among the men, who feel inadequate by comparison."

Indrani was of the opinion that if Gerard himself were of one of the elder races, his experience with elves might've been different. She almost asked how he would feel, taking orders from a being he considered little more than a child. Elves were a prideful lot- prideful to the point of arrogance- and she couldn't imagine very many of them deigning to take orders from a human. She was no less prideful than any other of her kin, but so to was she far more practical. And accepting.

Then again, she was still a young elf, not even yet one-hundred and eighty- barely a woman, in the eyes of her kin.

"I do not wish to seem ungrateful," Gerard continued, "but you are my peer and more in marksmanship, and likely saved my life as well as Robert and Pasha's. I should be thankful there was another with skill as good as mine or Teagan’s on this day. Teagan and I have served in the Brotherhood for 14 years together; she is my trusted ally, and the commander and organizer of the Brotherhood itself, and she is the finest you will find among the race of men. You might even learn a thing or two from her, Indrani."

"Perhaps I might," she replied with a wry smile. She wasn't so full of herself to think that there was nothing she could learn from the human archer.

"Were you injured?" Teagan asked.

Indrani shook her head no. "Not even so much as a scratch." She was dirty, of course- a consequence of fighting in a swamp- but aside from a bit of mud on her overcoat, she was none the worse for wear. "There are very few gnoll colonies left in the Falwood, but I've culled my share of warbands over the years."

Gerard Montefort Teagan Monroe

 

[Teagan Monroe]

Teagan shot Gerard a pointed look. He was trying to soften her up for the eventual blow up that would be heading his way and he knew that if he could placate her until they got back to the guild, he would be able to calm her down. She was trying really hard not to rip him a new one in front of the applicants. He was technically her boss and she did not want to undermine the authority that the guild members believed he had.

"Good, I am glad to hear it. I am, honestly, surprised to see a war party of gnolls here. Usually we are safe from such things. Apparently not this time." She rubbed her forehead and looked sad for a moment. She was really tired of losing people.

"We need to bury the dead and get back to the guild house before dark. Our normal plans have changed now." Teagan looked at Gerard, "Are you good to lift?"

Gerard Montefort Indrani the Huntress

 

[Gerard Montefort]

"I am thankful, at least, that those of us still standing are mostly uninjured. Had I been a moment slower, I might be lying with the dead with a shattered skull. We should count what fortunes avail us in these times, for it seems lately the guild has little such fortune to pass around."

His face was calm, cool, and collected for a moment.

"It is no easy thing to kill such feral warriors. I am sure Robert and Pasha have seen their fair share of strife as well, but Indrani, your experience was invaluable here. Perhaps I judge the will of elves too quickly. I look forward to seeing what your knowledge can do for the Brotherhood. You made many shots that The Thirty and Granger himself would be proud of. I suppose those might be common for an elf, but a shot on target is a shot on target, no matter who fired it."

He then turned back to Teagan. The foggy marsh was returning back to its original, unsettling quiet. They had no shovels to speak of, and this was a truth they'd learned on campaign: it wasn't always practical to bury bodies, especially not in a place like this.

"We'll take the bows and weapons that are worth taking, but we cannot tarry here. Their loss is tragic, but such is the life of a mercenary. We are in hostile terrain, and the furthest from civilization this training exercise takes us."

He clutched his forehead, feeling a sudden throbbing pain.

"Your reverence... is well noted as always, Teagan..." he said, struggling through the pain. "But we must move on..."

He pressed his hand to his forehead for what he thought was only a few seconds, but may have been much longer. He heard nothing during this time, only the searing pain in his head present in his senses. Finally, it subsided long enough for him to speak again.

"Let's get moving. We've wasted enough time here." He marched off as if nothing had happened.

 

[Indrani the Huntress]

"I will return later with oil and flame. If we cannot bury them the human way then I will do so the elven way." She was adamant. Funeral rites were no small thing in her culture. For the soul of a dead elf to pass on to Arbreallniehin, the dead mortal shell had to be given to the earth- buried- or given to the sky- burned. To leave bodies to rot under the open sky was all but anathema.

Gerard was right, though. They shouldn't tarry- not as a group. Alone though, she could return unseen and unheard and lay the men to rest. It was only proper.

Mid sentence, Gerard clutched at his head, face twisted in a grimace. He was clearly in considerable pain, but when it finally passed, he said nothing off it, strutting off with nary a word.

She would let his companion deal with him.

Gerard Montefort Teagan Monroe