Anariel: The Elf who broke the bow
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Login: Darkpowder
Character: AnarielAnariel, - The Elf that broke the bow.
Anariel was but a child alongside her brothers seated in the high woods of the Great Vale, around the group of three stood three figures; mother, father and Treleth - wood-elf weaponmaster of the region - grey runed leaf armour of a silvered finish adorning his lithe frame. In front of each of the figures on a fine white elven cloth lay a well wrought and smooth drawing elven bow, balanced and weighted for a typical young elven frame. The symbol of Solonor Thelandira hung around the pale neck of Treleth, a stunning white-wood bow slung, unstrung across his back. Motioning with his hand in a stiff motion toward each of the bows he big each of them take up the bow and string it as they had been shown. Anariel's mother winced slightly and a slight look of amusement passed over her gaze as she watched anriel string the bow as easily as one would tie a shoelace, the elven men stringing the bow with some effort using a bent knee to bend the shaft of the bow allowing the bowstring to slide over the tip.
Anriel grinned and sat back down without being bidden to, standing again as she noticed the others still upright and attentive to the weaponmaster. Treleth turned on his heel and took up three quivers from beside him handing them to each of the students with reverence, and silently indicating three far off pure-white discs of wood rimmed with elven steel.
Drawing the bows back with admirable skill, as all elven children do from the time they can walk the three lifted the bows to their shoulder paused a moment with a thought to Solonor as is customary before loosing their flights toward the target.
Again! - the weaponmaster spoke loudly in elven, his first words punctuating the still air of the wood. 11 times the bows were lifted and fired, the last arrow always kept behind in reverence of solonor as he had taught them. But on Anariels last arrow, she drew the bow back further than any elf had drawn back such a young bow and the sharp report of the splintering bow echoed across the glade, stunning the animals and the wood itself to silence.
"Never before anriel… never before" he said to the group - the weaponmaster picking splinters out of his armour on his side. "Do not use another of our bows Anariel, again..... Ever. until you can find one strong enough so you cannot break it."
Shaking his head in displeasure, gathering up the pieces of the bow and placing them in the folds of the cloth as if something alive had died, he turned to an aide who immediately tore off across the glade to a wagon, retrieving a small chest from the back.
Unlocking the mithril bound chest the elf pulle dout another wrapped object in white, the green tinge of which could be seen as he unfolded the material. A gold trimmed and finely wrought battleaxe was taken up by the weaponmaster and handed to her without a word. "Finally," he said. "You have the strength to ruin the beauty of the crafts of our kind, but you may yet have the strength to destroy those who are razing much of this place. You are too young to face their strength now, but in time you will."
Anariel hooked the axe on her belt, as she whispered the name of the human deity under her lips which she ha always held in her heart through constant brawls with her kin, she was once again marked as different from the rest of her kind. A massive battleaxe would now hang at her side not the beautiful longswords of her woodland kin. Life would not be easy for her in the future, and lacking the intellect to discern the mysteries of the arcane she wondered how long she would stay with her kin, but if she left to follow the will of the weaponmaster when would she ever return.
She looked at the adults around her and her kin who were giving her that strange look so many did at most of her displays of immense strength, smiled at Treleth, then walked back behind the trees to think on her lot.
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Reviewed - XP Pending.
