Chapter 13

Marissa made preparations for her upcoming trip. She knew that she might be gone for several months so she made sure to be well equipped for the travels ahead.

She of course had already planned on bringing her new staff with her on the trip. She purchased a simply sling from which she could carry the wooden rod upon her back. It was fitted so that it was comfortable to wear, but also easily accessible should she need to use its tremendous magical enhancements.

In addition, the young mage was going to be bringing her favorite short bow. She owned several different bows: two short ranged bows and a bigger long bow. The specific one she chose for the trip was one of her more recent acquisitions.

She happened to come across this favored weapon due to a challenge presented to her on one evening. A traveling bard who was visiting the Church was boasting about his archery skills within one of the common rooms. He told tales about how he was able to shoot the wings off of flying doves, and how he was even able to peg a stag over two hundred feet away. His peers around his table were not buying into his claims, and in the corner of his eye he saw Marissa.

She was sitting in one of the comfy chairs within the room, reading a book she recently borrowed from the Bullond library. Just beside her, lying against the chair was her long bow. She had previously been training with it on this morning, and had simply brought it along with her for the rest of the day.

The bard quickly yelled out to the doubtful crowd, "I am even so great that I could easily win a contest of skill against any of you here!" He pretended to scan the area. "Why I could even out shoot that girl and her bow over there!"

The men around him chuckled. "This fool didn't quite know what he's getting into," they thought.

"Marissa," one of them called. "This man here has thrown down a challenge. He questions that your archery skills do not match his. Do you accept?"

Now usually, the young mage was not one to agree so easily to a challenge. But today she felt intrigued. "And what is the wager?" she asked.

"Hah, why do you even ask? You know you can't win," the bard replied. "Fine, the fee for this challenge is each other's bow. Whoever wins keeps them both. Agreed?"

"I suppose that will do. What is your challenge?"

The challenger laughed, "Good, a chance to prove myself. Let us go to the archery range and discuss the terms…"

A group of other students followed the challengers outside. Betting wasn't completely allowed by the code of the Church, but then again this was a man who was challenging members of the faith. A reputation had to be upheld. Besides, this was more of a contest than a bet.

Marissa and the bard discussed the terms. They would each shoot at three clay discs thrown into the air. Whomever the surrounding crowd believed was the better, more skillful archer would be deemed the winner. The bard was so sure of himself that he didn't care that the majority of those in attendance were of the Church. He believed his skill would be far greater than this little girl.

An impromptu referee began to announce the event, "Bard Unon of Tastille will be shooting first. The range is yours challenger." Within his hands were three clay discs, roughly the size of biscuit plates. "Unon, call out 'fly' when you wish me to throw a disc."

Unon situated himself at the front of the range. He pulled a single arrow from his quiver and nocked it into place within his short bow. The bard kept the bowstring taught and called out, "Fly!"

An orange disc flew into the air. It rotated as it gained in height. At the peak of its lift, the man fired his arrow. The bolt hit the flying plate and it split in two. Mild clapping could be heard from within the crowd.

The bard prepared for another plate.

"Fly!"

This plate had been thrown long and the bard just barely clipped the object with his second arrow. The disc spun fiercely then broke apart. He had just barely hit the target.

"Fly!"

The bard's final plate and arrow collided with each other just a few feet from the ground. He had waited just a second after its launch and had skillfully caught the target just before it landed.

Udon the bard bowed down towards the crowd. A few of the people clapped and hollered.

The referee spoke again, "Marissa of the Church of Ducann, you are next. Call out 'fly' when you are ready."

Almost casually the young challenger grabbed a single arrow and locked it into place. She slowly pulled back the string and held it in place. "Fly!"

Just a few feet from above the referee came raining pieces of clay. Marissa had hit the target just a second shy of when the target was launched. Red dust covered the man's face. The surprised referee wiped some of the dust from his eyes and placed another disc within his hand.

"Fly!"

Red dust filled the air above the referee again. This time the disc had been broken even closer to the man's hands, barely a fraction of a second after the disc had been sent flying. Now his shirt had been covered with the dust.

"Fly!"

Almost instantly yet another disc shattered around the impromptu referee. The cloud of dust was the strangest of the three, as it appeared at his back! Apparently, Marissa had been able to destroy the target during the referee's back swing, just as he was gathering enough force to launch the disc into the air. A piece of the disc was still be clutched within his fingers.

The crowd broke out into loud applause. Men and women who had been watching were clapping and congratulating the young girl. She walked over to the bard still standing there almost in shock.

"I'll take this, thank you." Marissa grabbed the bard's short bow from his hands. "It will nice to have another in my small collection. Much thanks." With that the young mage walked off. She headed back to the common room, and back to reading her book.

The bow she had won on that day had come to be her favorite. The wood was a golden brown, and different carvings of flying creatures had been placed within its span. Intricate images of birds and different fowl crowded its thin frame. The centerpiece of the entire piece was a painted image portraying the magical beast called the griffon. The bow string was also strong but flexible. She usually kept the bow tension very taught, preferring a quick snap of motion during the release of arrows.

Additional gear she would need for her trip, excluding her usual garments, included winter clothing including heavy gloves and a thick parka. The Holloway Peninsula was coming up on the midst of winter, and snow would soon cover the upper lands. The young woman would have to be prepared should the cold snap of winter come along.

Of course, Marissa was going to need basic rations and food stuffs. She planned to regularly visit the local towns on her travels, but she could not count on relying on their assistance. Who knew what might come up and make it impossible for her to reach a town.

The final piece of her entire plan was the need for a reliable horse. She thought she might know the name of a useful steed or two.

"Back again I see, so soon at that," Jeremiah replied. "I suppose you want that ruddy horse over there again?" He pointed to Faerun.

"If I may?"

"Oh you most certainly 'may'. That bloody animal is a nuisance I tell you. Doesn't do anything but eat and stand there. No one else can ride 'im, and so he's just taking up space. I could easily train another horse to fill his place if his stall was empty."

"So I can take him?"

"Are you looking for a bigger invitation? Take him on that quest of yours, just pray that he does you well. Pray to God that that horse doesn't cause you strife. I know he's done it to me!" Jeremiah turned around and dropped his pants. There imprinted on his lower left cheek was the distinct mark of a horseshoe.

Marissa quickly looked away out of embarrassment as the stable hand pulled his pants back up.

"Oh what? Like you never seen sumthin like that before? I tell ya, you just try to do your job and clean these mongrels, and what do they do? Kick you in your arse when you ain't lookin. And that is all the thanks I get!"

Marissa, feeling pity for Jeremiah, walked over to him. Without using much judgment, she bent over and gave him a tiny peck on the cheek.

"There, that is sumthin that'll make a man feel better for the day. Thanks milady. What else can I do for you before you take leave?"

Jeremiah and Marissa loaded up Faerun with all of the gear the young wizard was bringing with her on her quest. The young black horse struggled with the somewhat large amount of weight. A slight look of disdain covered his face.

"Oh, don't you give me that. We'll need all of this in case something should come up. Besides, at least we aren't going through the desert this time. There will probably be lots of wild fruit along the way to boot, and we will be stopping more often!" Marissa reasoned with the Appaloosa. His demeanor didn't change.

"See I tells ya. You can't reason with this animal, but the best of luck to you."

"Thank you Jeremiah. Hopefully I will be seeing you again soon."

"As long as you aren't on that beast right there, then I'll be glad to see ya. Good luck young missus."

And with that, Marissa and her horse Faerun set out northwest for the Holloway Peninsula. Off the duo went in hopes of finding the source of the evil Pontia.

Continue reading onto Chapter 14