Arnod felt as though the muscles in his arms, back, and waist no longer belonged to him. They were unbearably sore and numb. In the brief span between the Half-orcs' charge and their halt, he had commanded his archers to loose ten rapid volleys, cutting down wave after wave of enemies beneath their sharp arrows.
But now he had no choice but to order a ceasefire, even though the enemy stood motionless not far away. Continuing to draw their bowstrings might damage his soldiers' muscles, leaving them unable to fight and turning them into burdens on the battlefield.
The Elves Longbows His Majesty had provided were excellent in almost every respect. They had long range and were easy to maintain, and even in this downpour, their arrows retained tremendous force and impressive accuracy.
Their only drawback was the immense strength required to draw them. The powerful bow in his hands was like an untamable wild horse; every shot demanded all the strength Arnod could muster.
Arnod also knew that these weapons had been designed by the elves for their own use. He had once had the good fortune to watch an elven prince fight, his movements as effortless as a dance. No matter what he did, Arnod would never reach that level in his lifetime.
Still, as a former Rhodoks Sharpshooter, Arnod had made a special visit to Mr. Jeremus, the finest physician in Fisslet, to learn how to restore the strength in his arms more quickly. He had learned several massage techniques, then taught them to all his archers.
Unlike his younger brother Arnold, Arnod had decisively abandoned the crossbow after becoming captain of the Archers Company, devoting considerable time to improving his archery instead. He believed that only by using the same weapon as his men could he