The horn sounded in the distance. Most likely spotted by a scout on the mountain. The battle would finally begin.

“To arms men! Show them what you’re made of! Show them that we will never back down!”

“AYE!”

Arthur cautiously grabbed a bow, shield and cutlass. He was to say the least, not a huge supporter of this ‘war’ idea. Sending masses to fight until dead with him being in that mass. That is why Arthur had chosen to be an archer. From his point of view, archers stay out of the way of the battle, can inflict plenty of damage from afar and stay well protected with shields and the frontlines. On top of that, archers are valued as there are far less ranks making them an important contribution to the battle. Arthur rushed up to the side of the hill with his large quiver of arrows and held for the command.

“Ready. Aim.” Sweat rushed down his face with the full knowledge of the first volley. His heart beating faster than it ever had. “Fire!” Arthur let go of the drawstring and felt a calming and tranquil feeling wash over him as the arrow soared overhead. There was no return fire. We had gained an advantage! But as the swords clashed down below in the valley and the others quickly reloaded, something was, off. Like someone was watching him. It could be nerves, but this was different. As the second volley launched into the distance that calm feeling was thrown out the window as the massive cloud of arrows soared towards him. Slightly stumbling he reached for his shield and huddled in a ball underneath it. While not the most elegant solution it was his best plan for survival.

Multiple of his fellow archers sprawled in pain and crumpled to the ground in a heap of limbs. A look of terror crossed Arthur’s face. I lived! I lived! I must continue. Thought Arthur. It was purely instinctual now. Survival was the only goal. The archer to his left looked his way and stared vacantly at Arthur.

“Yes yes! Horrifying! Now let us fight back comrade so we will not turn out the same!” The archer said nothing and fell forward with a knife in his back and his blood stained clothes leaving the grass stained red. Arthur fell backwards in horror and dropped his bow down the hillside. When he turned around there was a group of enemy assassins advancing on the archer ranks. “AMBUSH!” Yelled Arthur pointing behind them. The archers turned around and most were met with blades unable to draw fast enough. Arthur drew his cutlass and raged into battle. How did they not see it coming? No first volley to confuse us and give us hope then to crush that hope with an ambush. Arthur felt a new emotion in this war and it was a pure undivided rage. He brought his sword down and fought with all his might. He slashed through enemy forces and led the others to a counter attack.

Arthur would go on to lead the resistance against the ambush and eventually overtake the ambushing forces. Arthur was sadly lost in the midst but had given others hope. A hope that even a measly archer with a fear for the war could change the tide of battle and bring peace to the countryside. And while Arthur was lost that hope was not, and that hope would carry on for generations.