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You release the arrow, and it whistles through the air and buries itself deeply into the mail-clad shoulder of the Bandit Leader. You hear his scream of pain ring out above the din of battle, but even though he is badly wounded he still attempts to rally his men. You stoop to take another arrow, but, to your horror, the dead soldier’s quiver is empty. Looking up you see two dismounted Vassagonian horsemen clambering across the barricade towards you. You throw down your bow and run to a large water cask defended by a stout Sommlending sergeant. The ground around the cask is carpeted with enemy dead.
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‘Shoot the leader!’ you command, pointing towards the enemy officer. The sergeant aims and fires his bow with one swift and fluid movement. The arrow arcs through the battle-smoke and pierces the officer’s shiny breastplate. Slowly his cruel eyes flicker and close as he slips from the saddle, the shaft lodged deep in his heart.