• Mature • Dominion

[Kasoria]

Continued from here

31st trial, Ymiden, 720
Mistral Woods
Late Afternoon

"Sure you can do this?"

"Pretty sure."

"So... that's a 'yes', then?"

"Find out, wun'we?"

The other man settled back into doubtful silence. Kasoria was in no mood to reassure him. Truth be told, he had his own concerns. He could put an arrow through a plate at two hundred feet. Dead center, no doubts, no "pretty sure". He could track a man (or a pig) at a hundred and the bastard would be doomed once he let fly. But a bird flying?

There's a reason why it's a saying. Are you there yet?

"Fuckin' find out."

"Wussat?"

"Nuffin'."

Silence again. Just as doubtful. So Kasoria didn't waste his time with such uncertainties anymore; nothing good came from it. Instead, he looked up at the trees, the branches, and the growing number of fat, twitching shapes resting on them. They'd been flying in for over a break now, in dribs and drabs, finding a spot to land on and then settle for the night. The huntman hadn't had much trouble finding it. He'd just looked for the masses of dried white foulness on the ground under the branches.

"This'd be it, I'd wager," he'd said, pointing at the splattered white smears on the grass and streaked down the trunk. "Come sundown, they'll come back. We'll wait til the branches are full, and then..."

Kasoria didn't need to know the rest. He knew what would follow. Why else would they be out there, after all? It was the same group as before. Men who hadn't panicked and loosed their arrows wide at that boar... but hadn't been tested by a bird shoot. Lots of small, fast-moving, terrified creatures. More targets, more prey than the eyes could track and follow. So a hunter had to pick one, out of the living cloud, and bring his arrow to bear. Aim, track, take into account evasion and speed, bring it down... then do it again.

He understood this, as a concept. But he knew doing it would be-

All thoughts ceased when he felt a tug on his cloak. He looked down at the questing hand, then back up at the man who'd been tugging. He followed the pointing finger... and saw the huntsman slowly rising from his hiding spot. Around him, the others were doing the same. Not so fast as to spook the birds, but readying themselves anyway. Kasoria followed suit. Nocked arrow in his hand drawing back even as he stood. He was standing upright by the time the fletching tickled his cheek. He didn't look around anymore. Didn't care if the whole band stood or they were still squatting.

He had eyes only for the plump little creature at the end of his arrow. Head hunched into its feathery chest as it started to sleep. The huntsman had chosen his moment well: the sun had dipped beneath the treeline, and the glare wouldn't blind the archers anymore. Kasoria licked his lips. The moment was coming. Gone from breaks and bits away to trills. He forced the trepidation and thus the tension to leave his arm. Not long... all it would take was-

The whistle of an arrow.

A collective crash of hundreds of wings unfolding at once, drift of birds exploding upwards.

A mortal, pained screech soon taken up and then drowned by hundreds of voices, all congealing into one vast and terrified sound.

Kasoria fired, already reaching for another arrow, as the killing began.

[Kasoria]

It was chaos, but one directed, if not controlled. Hundreds of hearts and souls, all furiously trying to escape, pounding the air so hard that Kasoria could feel the myriad of gusts from where he stood. Yet they were surrounded, penned in by stone-faced humans with their hated bows and evil metal sticks. They had nowhere to go but up, up, and further up until they could spill outwards, beyond the range of the bows.

Until then, they were prey for the slaying. Kasoria was not one to let that chance slip by.

The first bird he'd aimed at died with an arrow through it. Wings outstretched still, twitching as it plummeted down, weight of the wood and metal that klled it heavier than its whole body. Kasoria didn't watch it die. He was already looking for his next target, right hand moving without thought-

-plucking, nocking, drawing-

-seeing that, there, a small living patch of shadow and white feathers against the darkening sky, split from the canvas of terrifed black wings-

-he tracked it, followed its movements, waited a handful of precious trills until he was sure it wasn't going to change-

TWANG

"Shite."

The curse was still spat in the air by the time he'd nocked another arrow. All around them, birds dropped to the ground like rain. Most killed cleanly, some quite literally just winged, flopping and thrashing across the grass. When the flock had shattered and vanished, they would be killed one by one. Like the wounded in the aftermath of a battlefield. Kasoria subconsciously drew the comparison even as he drew a bead on the next little black target. Tracking its movement a little longer, waiting for that last burst of upward movement-

-aiming just a few feet ahead before-

TWANG

-he suppressed a grin as the arrow struck true, and the bird dropped. Already, he was firing again. Again. Again. They were all caught up in it now, that single-minded frenzy of slaughter against targets impossible to miss, and incapable of fighting back. Already one of them was stamping the ground under the flock, crushing wounded birds, face alight with savagery as each stomp brought another muffled shriek. Kasoria could see the flock already breaking. Starting to spread like ink across the sky, and he knew he had only one shot left-

But not one arrow.

He didn't pause to question. Didn't have time. He reached back and used his whole hand to draw three arrows at once. Nocking all three was hardly a chore now; neither was drawing them back. Only now he had to hold his bow sideways, to kep the arrows steady and not smacking into each other. Standing almost under the flock, he aimed up into the central mass, then fired-

He could barely hear it over the din of screeches and flapping wings. Barely, but it was there. Whistling, of an arrow flying wide and away... and another thick, wet crackling sound, like a dozen tiny bones crushed by something huge and hard.

One out of three. Not bad.

"Very fancy," was all the huntsman said, when the sky was clear and the party was collecting their due. "Waste of arrows, though."

"Won't be doin' it often. But that close, that many..."

The huntsman grunted, which would suffice for his reply. Both men looked about them. The grass was no longer just grass; it was a sign of slaughter. Red blood stained everything. Bodies were everywhere, tiny and broken, some still gasping furiously, tiny black eyes staring out, uncomprehending of all save pain. The huntsman settled to his haunches and picked one up. Its tiny chest was heaving. It suffered. He broke its neck with two fingers, and muttered something familiar.

"What wuzzat?"

"Somethin' I heard from a priest," the huntsman said, gently tying the dead bird to his belt. "Long time ago. About dominion o'er the animals. What ye make of that?"

Kasoria thought for a while. He knew that word. He understood the concept. By way of answer, he found one of his arrows, and the bird it had impaled. It was dead. A clean death. No suffered. The best prey could hope for, in a world where predators were rife. He drew it out and studied the blood for a moment. Smelled the same coppery stench, only thinner, more animal than human.

"I think they're good eatin', an' we're hungry."

The huntsman chuckled, and the reaping continued.

[Pig Boy]

Kasoria

Experience: 10

Knowledge:

Ranged Weapon (Shortbow): Ignore the Mass, Focus on a Single Target
Ranged Weapon (Shortbow): Shooting a Flying Bird Out the Sky
Ranged Weapon (Shortbow): Being Mindful of the Sun's Glare When Shooting
Ranged Weapon (Shortbow): Firing Three Arrows at Once
Hunting: Identifying Roosts for Game Birds
Hunting: Swift Movements Alert Prey Animals

Non-Skill Knowledge:
Mistral Woods: Home to Game Birds


Renown: none

Skill Usage: Appropriate to level. I'd argue that his hunting skill was a tad overplayed, but I suppose it only takes someone to show you where game birds roost, or finding droppings on the ground. And of course the thing you're hunting is a pretty easy mark. I had to give this one some thought. Also I'd add detection to the list of skills used.

Loot/Losses: Dinner

Injuries/Conditions: none

Consequences: none

Comments: This was short and sweet, you described taking swift shots pretty well. I'd be careful though, as your play of shortbow was approaching capstone-levels perhaps even tier 2 here.

Those poor birds, was it totally necessary to take that many ;-;.

But seriously good writing.

If you have any concerns about this review, please PM me about them.