It's no news to most that Archet was attacked, considering how long ago it happened, and how the poor town is still recovering from the deaths and fires of that day. But here I'll chronicle my own part in the action, for no purpose other than recording it while it's still fresh in my memory for any children I might happen to have in the future. Also because I need to work on this whole writing thing, and Ellie bought me a journal for my birthday last year, and to be completely honest I just love talking about all the neat things I've done (even better if it's immortalized in writing).
I was on a rather lengthy hunting expedition in the Chetwood - going after badgers, mostly, for their furs - when I ran into an old buddy of mine. Nate Whisperwood was his name, and he was really a right fine lad, and a good hunter, too. He implored me to join him for a while, and I had already caught enough badgers to not feel guilty doing so. So I took the furs I had with me and bagged them up, and we went on together. He brought me to the hunting lodge near Archet - as far as hunting lodges go, one of the nicest I've seen - and there I met a slew of good men and hunters, but there is not enough time to list them all.
Among them was a man of some stature called Jon Brackenbrook. He seemed to be the leader of that band of hunters, and he commanded a great deal of respect from all of them. Good guy, from what I saw. Anyways, Nate and I stayed the night at the lodge, but as we were preparing to leave the next day Jon received word of an upcoming attack on Archet by brigands from the wilderness. Our plans were cut short, and we pledged our bows in defense of the town.
The attack started too soon, and the hunters were too late in reaching the town. Jon led the bulk of them by a secret road to the back wall of Archet, but he left a few defenders behind at the lodge to insure the secrecy of the effort: me, Nate, and a nice girl named Ann Granger. There was also a fellow, an acquaintance of mine, named Fenton Marshley, but he went on a patrol southwards soon after Jon left. While I don't think the brigands expected the hunters to get involved, a half a dozen or so men were sent over to be sure of it. And when they came to the lodge, they found us, ready for battle.
The two strongest took to the narrow bridge, and they were met by Ann, who, while not quite as strong as them, was nimble and able to navigate the close quarters well. Within the first minute of the clash, one of them had been knocked into the water, and the other was tiredly swinging at a nimble girl, who was easily able to get blow after blow in.
Another two had bows, and while they initially aimed at Ann on the bridge, they eventually realized the stupidity of that (as they might accidentally hit one of their own), and they turned their attention to Nate and I. Always the better shot than Nate, I wounded both of them before anybody else was able to land a shot on either side.
The last two waded stealthily through the water, obviously intending to attack the archers from the disadvantageous melee range. But by the time they reached us, one of their own archers had been hit, and Nate was permitted to turn his attention to them. He dispatched one of them before he had even gotten out of the water, and the other he got into a fist fight with, as he didn't want to harm the kid, and he was able to quickly knock the brigand's own knife out of his hand.
When the second archer was injured, I moved over towards the bridge and took aim at the fellow that Ann was fighting. As soon as there was an opening I took it, and I shot the man's leg. Wounded, he fell into the water, and Ann walked back up the bridge to where I was and thanked me. She was getting rather tired as well.
But we had counted the first man who fell of the bridge out too soon. He came up on the shore, hurt but still alive, and walked up behind Nate as he was ending his fight with the kid. And, as Ann and I turned over, he unsheathed his short sword and plunged it into Nate's back, killing him. Ann stood in shock, but I ran over to them, shouting at the top of my lungs (though I don't remember hearing anything). I took out my hunting knife, and as the ruffian turned toward me I stabbed him in the gut. He staggered backwards a step, but remained standing. Before I knew it, I was lifting my bow, and I shot an arrow between his eyes.
I'm a hunter, you see, so I have no qualms about killing animals. I don't think I could kill a man. But this brigand... as soon as he turned to a life of crime and killed Nate, he became no better than an animal. And so I killed him.
