Nokeb is not just any common elf. Nokeb is of the Novarie elven race. These elves are known to be great magic users. Although Nokeb is a young Novarie, and not yet old enough to master his magical abilities, he occasionally catches glimpses into the future. These visions, combined with his extraordinary archery skills, make him a valuable member of the group of warriors set off to reclaim Jelzicar and save their world from Emph’s evil reign. As a lowly fortune teller in Gravenlea with a history of often making false predictions, he has a lot to prove as the Warriors of Gravenlea set off to reclaim their world.
Posted in Warriors of Gravenlea and tagged archer, arrows, bow, castle, Drahvyn, elf, gravenlea, jelzicar, magic, Nokeb, Novarie, of, throne, throne of jelzicar, warriors, warriors of gravenlea by S. D. Galloway with no comments yet.
In the shadows of the trees, he stands. Watching. Waiting. The arrow is taught against his string. He feels the muscles in his arm and shoulder tensed and ready. All he must do is release. The waiting is truly the hardest part. Through the bushes and overgrowth, he can hear the animal moving. It draws closer, yet he does not waiver. He cannot afford the luxury of fear, for it would only mean the end for him.
The animal closes in, and now he can hear it breathing. In this instant, most would have run. He does not. The warrior inside of him would never allow him to run. He stands his ground, waiting for the wicked beast to emerge.
It does not disappoint. The animal lumbers toward him at great speed. He does not allow himself to feel anything as he progresses through the movements, for he cannot afford to. He takes aim, steadying his hand, and releases. Muscles, instantly merciful for the loss of the strain, help guide his hand back to his quiver from memory. He draws another arrow.
It is not necessary. The beast falls to its belly on the carpet of the forest floor in front of him. He walks to it and taps it with his boot. No movement. The beast is dead. He turns, and walks deeper into the forest.
It is sometimes said that the heart of a true warrior lies in what he does in the first moments of battle. Does he stay and fight to the death? Does he flee? It is in these moments, when faced with true danger, that the warrior is made.
This warrior was not made to flee. He was made to fight. He may live many years, or he may be killed fighting off a beast. Either way, he will not become a victim to his fear. The archer lives another day, deep in the heart of the forest.
Posted in After Hours and Other Ramblings and tagged After Hours, archer, beasts, blog, danger, fantasy, fight, forest, genre, heart, heroic, monsters, saga, story, warrior by S. D. Galloway with no comments yet.