Hey Folks, Cael from TeraCast here. I've offered to help out around TeraFans by writing an Archer Column, and am happy to begin submitting today!
My plan is to make this a weekly article, so watch for it Sunday afternoons!
The following tale is my attempt at bringing the Archer class to life through narrative. Now, I know this might sound cheesy, but my aim is to tell the story in weekly installments and follow her adventures from the Island of Dawn through to the continent of Shara, (which we know nothing about, so I'll be making up a LOT) and beyond. As reference, I'll only be using previously published material, so as not to get into any trouble with NDA. If I don't know something, I'll make it up; in other words, this is not meant to be a factual guide to Arborea or the Archer class, but, with any luck, will help you get a sense of the Archer class, and prove to be entertaining.
*Note: The formatting on the boards completely demolished the indentations I had placed in the document... If you see any other odd formatting anomalies, please blame the translation from a text document to a forum post!
-Caelixian
The Cala Chronicles: An Archer's Journey Through Arborea
Chapter 1: Leave
The wind was gusting in from the south-west, tainted with the warm organic musk of the Tuwangi Mire. A ringlet of hair the colour of blooming heather tumbled across one eye as she bent the arch of her heavy ironwood bow. Her target, a fern standing taller than all the rest in the vicinity, merely swaying in the breeze, did little in the way of resistance. She aimed for the base of the thing, near to the ground where the stem was thickest. Summoning the energy within her, the young Castanic felt the shaft of energy materialize on her string, never releasing her target from the intensity of her stare. The almost musical 'twang' of her bowstring filled the air, stilling, if only for a few seconds, the chirping of nearby birds, and cutting short the shrill chattering of a squirrel. The shaft of shimmering energy blazed through the air, arching slightly, and compensating well for the slight gust in the air. The fern, around two hundred yards away to Cala's estimation, exploded with the impact, sending green leafy fragments in all directions, their gentle flutter back to earth belying the violence which had just transpired. The pieces of the fern came to rest among the shattered detritus of tree branches, mossy stumps, and stone fragments which other arrows had liberated from their former hosts. Glancing up at the sun while tucking her renegade roseate ringlet behind a horn, the young Castanic decided it was about time to head back to base.
With a slight grin of satisfaction, Cala slung her bow over her shoulder, and turned from her obliterated targets to head back to the bivouac. She enjoyed the solitude of what she had recently begun to think of as ‘her’ gully, and already she was beginning to see signs of wear on the grassy path back to the town-proper. Twice a day, between her shifts, she had ventured down the gulch to practice her archery. The 4th Company of the Valkion Defence Brigade had only been billeted in Lumbertown for a week now, but already the work they had been sent to assist with had been completed.
A tempest from the West had blown in off the sea only days before they had been mustered, knocking down trees, causing lumber piles to come careening down into the village, and toppling several of the ancient mills. Truly, no storm like it had hit the coastal areas in living memory. The 4th VDB company had been called upon by Vanarch Ismal of Lumbertown to assist in the clean-up. It was routine work; any time there was a natural disaster, the VDB would offer its assistance in the reconstruction, the clean-up, or the restoration. Only a few months before, several companies of the VDB had been called to the Paraanon Ravine to act as a bucket brigade in an attempt to extinguish a monstrous forest fire which threatened Popolion.
In Lumbertown however, Cala found the work to be fairly menial, and quite unsatisfactory, but at least Captain Fayhee provided the company a pair of two-hour-long breaks every day. The last of the mills had been reassembled yesterday afternoon, but the 4th company was ordered to remain in Lumbertown for the remainder of the week. The rest of the time spent here would be training and drills, Cala knew, but looking down at her scratched-up arms and splinter-laden hands, she preferred the monotony to ever lifting another log or thorny branch again.
As she neared the top of the gulch, she stopped for a moment to take in the sights, sounds, and scents of the coastal forest. The massive pines cast much of the earth in shade, but here and there were patches of dappled sunlight casting an emerald glow off of the verdure within. Blue-bonnet, Heath, Daisy and Buttercup all fought for space in these sunny plots, resulting in a cacophony of colour rivaling even the banners of Velika on a blustery day. Beneath it all were the sweeping carpets of moss and grass, whose sweet and earthy fragrances filled the crisp late afternoon air. These sensory inputs were still new to Cala, who had spent the first seventeen years of her life in the dark stony halls of Castanica.
Beyond the edge of the forest, she heard the creaking of the mills, and the persistent grating sound of more than a dozen two-man cross-cut saws. The breeze occasionally brought the scent of freshly hewn pine logs to her nose, and she knew the next hillock would bring Lumbertown-proper into view.
“Private Taar,” came the gruff voice from off to her right, “heading back to duty?”
Captain Fayhee had known that the job they had been sent to accomplish needed to be broken up by frequent breaks, but Cala suspected his main reason for allowing the company to remain so casual was because he simply did not have the stamina he once did. Grizzled and gray-haired, the old Castanic was in need of two things: retirement, and a shave. Even his horns were showing signs of heavy wear; nicks and cracks, scratches and chips. His potbelly decreed that he was better considered a captain of the tankard than a captain of the 4th VDB company. Of course, no one told him that; his pole axe had seen more battles than most of the 4th VDB combined, and had even bit into Argon flesh, or so he claimed.
“Yeah, I am. Are we running up town-hill again, or sparring?” she asked, not relishing the thought of either.
“Neither,” said the old captain, huffing as he caught up to Cala and trying to keep stride with her, “someone from Division arrived while the company was on leave, and wants to hold a meeting. He’s waiting at the inn.”
“About what? To thank us for a job well done?” Cala said, snickering slightly with derision.
“Maybe, I have no idea, truly. He wanted to wait until the whole company had been assembled. I had just caught up with Jamber and Reez a few minutes before I saw you sauntering out of the woods – how far into those woods are you going on our brief leave anyway? Sheesh…”
The rest of the walk down into the village was interrupted only briefly by a flock of sheep being herded into their path by a youth, clearly still learning the trade. The well worn dirt road into the town was still littered with bark and sprigs of evergreen from their restoration efforts, but the rains and winds were helping to neaten the way.
The inn was not a large building, and as the pair of soldiers approached, they saw that several of the company members stood outside, and others were half in and half out of the doorway.
“Make way, make way. Private Koil, Hink, inside” the old captain ordered, his tone filled with the authority of his position.
“Sir, we are unable, the whole company cannot possibly fit in the inn... what is this about Captain?” brusquely inquired the large Amani soldier standing just outside the door to the inn.
There was a sudden jostling by the door, and the soldiers who had been attempting to work their way into the room were stepping back as others began to spill forth from within. The company was not a large one, thirty soldiers in all with the Captain, but between four Baraka, six Amani, and a handful of grossly overweight Popori, the small family operated inn was bursting at the seams. As the lightly armoured men and women were emerging from the inn, Cala caught sight of a Human dressed in heavy plate, enameled in reds and gold. He carried his helm in his hands, sweat beading across his brow, and trickling in sluggish snakes down the side of his face and into his neatly trimmed sable beard. His eyes looked at once cruel, shrewd, and self-interested. Cala felt immediate unease in his presence.
“Captain Fayhee, I presume?” the man said, rather snobbishly, looking the captain over from head to toe, his exp
ression doing little to conceal his distaste for Fayhee's condition. “I'm Commander Warmark of the 2nd Expeditionary Force. This inn is merely a rally point. Call this -” he gestured with disdain at the sweating and chatty soldiers still pouring out of the inn, “-band... together please, Captain.”
The old Captain gave an ear shattering whistle as the last of the company withdrew from the inn, “AT-TEN-TION! FALL IN!” he bellowed, leaving no one guessing why he still commanded a company.
Filed by TERA Fans News at 2:15 am under Uncategorized Tagged Average Life Expectancy, Brow, Commotions, Demise, Enlightenment, Falling Victim, Flame, Flames, Foe, Fools, Fortitude, Passing Fancy, Patience, Plate Armor, Rapture, Screams, Sorcerer, Sorcery, Spells, Tingling Sensation
