The resin figure I chose to show is from LOOT-STUDIO’s February 2021’s Granny’s Prophecy pack.
Mary Arsys – She is one of three heroes (the only female hero in the lot)
She made me think of a minor character in my work-in-progress (MOON WARRIORS). Keras is a bowwoman or bowmark in my story.
Please excuse any grammatical errors in the writing piece. This is actually a section from my novel – that is still in rewriting process. If it will ever get done I cannot say. I feel like I am a one trick pony where writing is concerned…
DISCLAIMER: Rhaedayel’s name will change once/if the story ever gets published. I have yet to find the right name to replace it with. So, it’s a placeholder for now.
This story started from role-play, so his character (and name) belongs to Rhiannon Aelwyn.
Rhaedayel loosened his tense muscles as his mentor coolly diffused the situation. He scooped up a spoonful of oat porridge but lowered his spoon a margin when he spied movement off to the side. The newcomer offered no threat but he respected the woman’s ability to maneuver behind them undetected.
“Come, lil brother,” a tattooed hand slapped down on the teenager’s shoulder, sloshing frothy ale onto his hand. The Bowmark female speared Rhaedayel with a cutting glare for permitting the boy to imbibe. “Tis time for yehr archery lessons.”
Rhaedayel offered the woman a beatific look and plucked his cup out of the startled boy’s grasp, saluting her before taking a drink. Over the rim of his cup, he grazed over the ink on the back of her right hand. An intricate-styled bow covered most of her wrist. The notched, silvered, green fletched arrow’s leaf shaped arrow pointed toward the woman’s middle finger.
“Didn’t know yeh liked them young, Keras,” Dhoryl jeered whistling long and low as he appraised the way her trousers fit lean legs. Nilanail took advantage of the distraction to flee to the safety of the other woman. “How’s about tryin’ a real man,” he cajoled.
Rhaedayel regarded the scene with sardonic amusement anticipating the Keras' brand of retaliation. He had no worries of her ability to handle randy men like Dhoryl. She did not disappoint.
A sharp twang echoed in the morning’s stillness. Dhoryl yelped and jumped up from the log. Between his legs, right where his groin had been, quivered an arrow, its point deeply embedded in the wood.
Rhaedayel swallowed another mouthful of ale to keep from laughing aloud at the spectacle.
Keras’ gaze turned flinty as she gave Dhoryl’s body a quick, disdainful look over. “Do us all a favor, Dhoryl,” her tone lackluster and bored, “Learn to shut that useless yap of yehrs before it lands yeh in more trouble than yeh can get out of. And I advise you to leave Lana alone or my next arrow will hit a vital place.”
Rhaedayel prodded Ly’traer to his feet. The boy acquiesced readily while sporting a lopsided grin, entertained as much as he with Dhoryl’s comeuppance.
She looped a loose arm around his scrawny shoulders and led him away from the fire. “Word for wise, little brother,” she raised her voice loud enough for them to hear, “never beh an ass like that or yeh will never get far with the ladies, let alone bed them.”
Keras turned smoothly. “Oh, and Dhoryl, I want meh arrow back. Good arrows, unlike men, are so hard to come by.”
Rhaedayel’s shoulders shook with suppressed laughter. ‘Well played, Keras, well played.’
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