Chapter Type: Conflict (versus others), Conflict (social)
You wouldn't think that a wall of turned over tables and chairs with heavy objects on them would stop a peasant levy, but it seemed to be working.
"More arrows! More bandages!" Always more.
I was crafting shorter arrows out of the firewood, when I wasn't furiously fixing enemy arrows pried out of walls, furniture, shields, or sometimes people.
It seemed to me that there were fewer than a hundred involved in the encirclement.
"Where are they being fed from?" I asked Kismet.
"Focus. What are we doing, right now?"
"Fixing arrows."
"Which are the only things between that mass of idiots and our lives. Which has priority?"
"Ending the siege by any means available." I said.
She smacked me just before my eye.
"Fix arrows, Rhishi! Just fix arrows."