Azrael followed Zen, as he rushed out of the room.

Another elf opened the door for them, pulling open three sliding bolts to let them out. Zen strode past the man without a word. Azrael hurried behind him.

He’d hoped to gather more information from the man, but it seemed that that had to wait. Whatever had come up was serious enough for the elf to enlist a total stranger. Despite all that Azrael was excited. This was technically his first proper quest! Taking in the villagers didn’t count.

Walking through another door Azrael suddenly found himself in dappled sunlight. He looked back at the building complex they had just walked out. Built out of sandstone and covered with trees the entire building was a strange mix of stone and plant.

Massive trees had grown around, in and through the building, affectively becoming part of its structure. The trees formed arches and bridges, between various buildings and some even housed rooms.

The rest of the fort had a similar design. Solid sandstone buildings had fused with massive trees, forming a unique architecture. The dappled sunlight that fell through the leafy canopy above only seemed to add to the fantasy feel.

“Pretty, isn’t it” said Zen, despite his hurry.

Azrael could only agree. His focus was redirected a moment later when he was forced to sidestep a running aide. Azrael finally paid attention to the people in the fort.

Squadrons of soldiers were rushing about carrying weapons, wearing pastel and green uniforms, while aides were running between buildings carrying orders. Amidst all this Zen calmly strode towards one of the fort’s walls.

A female elf with short brown hair and glasses rushed towards him carrying an ornate bow and quiver. Another soldier of higher rank rushed up at the same time. Zen accepted the bow and quiver, before turning to the soldier.

“Report”

The man saluted.

“Commander! An incoming horde of spider type monsters has been discovered approaching the fort from the south. All squads preparing for combat.”

Zen nodded. His demeanour completely different to the man in the interrogation room. It was the air of someone who had fought many battles before and was used to directing others.

“Expected waves?”

“Three, sir.”

“Assessment?”

“Hard, but not impossible. Casualties inevitable”

“Send runners to the closest two forts. Notify them. Send healers. No other reinforcements currently needed. Standby.”

Zen’s words were short and concise. The man saluted once more before rushing off again. Zen then turned to the female aide with glasses.

“Take this man to the armoury. He will be joining us on the wall” he said pointing at Azrael.

Zen strode off towards the wall without a second glance backwards, his mind already on the coming battle. His aide similarly started walking, though in a different direction, deftly threading her way through the chaos. Azrael followed.

In the end they ended up in an armoury, which was already mostly empty due to the need to equip all the squadrons. There were only a few spears, swords and bows left.

“No daggers?” he asked.

The aide, Amelia, shook her head. Reluctantly Azrael tied two short swords to his waist, before grabbing a spear. The swords would be unwieldy, but still better than nothing and he had experience with the spear. He opted not to take a bow. Archery was never a forte of his.

Amelia didn’t seem to agree with his choice of weapons, swapping his spear for a bow.

“You’ll be fighting on the wall” she explained as she replaced the spear in the rack. He frowned, but didn’t comment. This was their fort, he would follow their rules. They just couldn’t blame him for wasting arrows.

Seemingly satisfied that he was equipped, she walked out of the building expecting, him to follow. He did.

The fort’s sandstone walls were impressive to say the least. Three-meter behemoths, sitting two meters wide, the walls seemed to have grown directly from the ground. They were absolutely flawless and looked impenetrable. The wooden gates looked no less of a barrier. Azrael was glad he hadn’t tried to escape earlier.

Amelia pointed Azrael in the direction of Zen, before leaving. Presumably, the aide of a commander also had much to organise for the coming battle.

Walking up to Zen, Azrael was impressed by what he saw. At the base of the wall elven shield and spear users stood at the ready, alongside elven swordsmen. The walls were lined with archers. To best make use of the elevated position.

Arrows were positioned in small barrels, stocked and ready for prolonged use. There were around a hundred soldiers ready to fight, all up.

When Zen saw him approach, he greeted him with a nod. Azrael nodded back and took a place beside him.

A few minutes later a scout came running through the trees, drawing everyone’s attention. A hush fell over the assembled group. The previously restless soldiers stilled and displayed perfect discipline.

They opened a path to let the scout pass through to the gates. It closed up a moment later with practiced precision. The soldiers waited in silence, though the silence was soon broken.

The sound of hundreds of scuttling chitinous legs could be heard and Zen took the moment to speak, breaking the rising tension. His voiced could be heard by all.

“Soldiers” he said. “Today we fight again, to protect our friends, our families and our people.”

Zen notched an arrow onto his bowstring, as the first of the hound sized spiders appeared from the foliage.

“The enemy is many, but we are strong. We stand united. We fight together. And we will prevail!”

He loosened the arrow. It pierced through the closest spider, killing it instantly.

“ATTACK!”

Taking their cue from his command, dozens of arrows rained down onto the advancing spiders, while the men below braced themselves for the inevitable fight.

As Azrael nocked his own arrow, he wished that he was down there with them. He had little practice with a bow, although it was almost impossible to miss with just how many spiders there were. Azrael glanced at the arachnean horde below, worried that they were going to run out of arrows. He was only managing to bring down a spider every third shot.

Zen himself was firing faster than Azrael, but still somehow managing to take down a spider with every arrow. Even as he watched Zen confidently nocked a new arrow, aiming and releasing in a heartbeat. Each arrow shot off, a deadly herald of death. Their accuracy was also phenomenal, honing straight for their target. Azrael glanced at the bow using [Craftman’s Eye].

Bow of the Elven Commander

Granted to an elf for his outstanding service, this ornate bow has been blessed by wind spirits.

The bow draws a small amount of mana from the user to tip each arrow with wind to increase piercing power and accuracy.

Azrael glanced at his own bow.

Simple Elven Bow

This simple bow has been made in elvish design. Its grip has seen much use, making it well worn and comfortable.

Ah. The disparity of equipment. Azrael nocked the next arrow.

This time he tried to infuse some of his own [Wind] mana onto the tip. The arrow shot off, piercing straight through an incoming spider. He reloaded and recast the spell.

There was nothing like some little target practice to work off a little irritation at the unfairness of life. Some people got it handed to them, while others had to work hard for the same results.