Magpie - Aspiring Archer
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Player Account: Sciolist
The High Priest of Corellon sighed and shook his head.
"The girl cannot be trained. She is... reckless, foolish, without the wit or wisdom to hear her mother calling her for food, let alone the sweet whispers of the Divine. Send her... to the Long Watch. Maybe they can show her the value of discipline."
The Long Watch were not as shiny as the Vale Guard or the Noble Swords of Evereska, but they did at least patrol around the moors and hills and forests of the Western Heartlands. The young Mylaerla was not best suited to quiet forest work, nor keeping watch, but she was cheerful and could manage a field camp, entertain with lute or song and hunt small game. In at least one sweep to remove bandits from the Forgotten Forest, she was used successfully as bait. A noble ransom to be kidnapped while the rest of the unit tracked her captors.
It was a good life. She got to play and practice archery, the only real martial talent she had. She watched the other rangers and on rare occasions, she too could bind magical force into her arrows. It was never reliable, though, despite daily practice. The Captain felt she was still best suited to remain with the camp, rather than make up the vanguard of the strike actions.
She took all of this with her habitual good spirits until the company she was attached to became part of a Crusade. One of the attempts to retake Myth Drannor from the various fiends in occupation. One night, after what they thought was successful scouting, the company was ambushed by many drow under cover of the darkest night and foul magics. It was a slaughter. Mylaerla wounded by a blow to the head, managed to crawl, away from the main camp to hide in a ditch while the cries of the dying and the exultant howls of their killers echoed through the trees.
When consciousness returned, the forest was quiet. Burned remains of some bodies, and heaps of others littered the camp. As far as she could tell, she was the only one left. Alone in the great forest of Cormanthor, with little help to come. She gathered what she could and stumbled north to the shores of the Moonsea.
There were few safe places around the shores but as luck would have it, she arrived in Elmwood. A tranquil village deovted to Eldath and Selune rather than the BAnites to the east or the Zhentarim of the western shores. The innkeeper of the Still Waters took her in, travelworn, soot-blackened and marvelled at the small bag of mismatched coins and jewellery she'd salvaged from the camp. "Like a little Magpie!" - He'd said.
A season later, and she was fit to travel, but still suffered issues with her memory. She could not really return home westwards, the disgraced survivor of such a fight. South lay the great forest with all its potential foes that she was no match for. North was the Moonsea Lake and the wild area of Thar and Ogres Orcs.
She wrote carefully in her book.
- Travel East.
- Practice Archery.
- Become great warrior, like Corellon.
- Avenge the fallen.
In time, her travels brought her through the Rawlinswood to Narfell, and something seemed familiar.
Familiar enough to stop, and practice.