The Hinterlands – Five days out from the western coast of the continent
"Suppressive fire, Az!" Sylvie shouted as she hid behind a dented boulder. She breathed heavily, feeling the rough, rocky ground beneath her and the dry, almost burning air sucking into her lungs and cracking her lips.
A dozen meters to her side, beneath another boulder, Azhar took out his skeletal bow and slipped out of his cover. His quiver was empty, having long since been drained in this hours long battle. But his bow could manifest arrows of bone, and he did so now. Three long, sharpened femurs materialized between his fingers.
He nocked the arrows, wreathing them in a film of black magical energy, and fired. The arrows split into a total of twelve identical copies – the effects of the [Split-Shot] skill – and sailed in beautiful, neat arcs before boring into the stony skulls of kobolds.
