The morning was cool and still as a thick fog crept over the battle fields. The only sounds that could be heard was the distant sounds of clinking armor, and of cook fires being put out by kicking sand or water buckets. “Prepare the firing line.” said Cunningham to his Bow-master. Bow-master Rowan was also his Arch-Duke Cunningham’s Sergeant-at-Arms. Rowan walked silently to the archers at the ready. The fog was starting to lift as Rowan dropped his arm with his thumb pointing downward. The line of archers dipped their arrows in small braziers which held a curiously blue flame. Rowan raised his hand as the archers raised their bows, with their blue-flamed arrows, and then just as the fog lifted he dropped his arm! There was still no sound except for the sound of hundreds of arrows being loosed into the air.