About this image

The bandits cries echoed around the cavern of Swindler's Den, he sprinted towards Thienlin, his sword raised high.
Arrow drawn she did not falter, her hand did not shake as she wait for the precise moment to let fly the arrow.
The bandit was less then ten feet away, but she did not fire. The shot had to be perfect, she was never one to waste a good arrow head.
The muscles of her stomach were tight as she slowly let out her breath. Her fingers were supple as she held the string. A huntress was nothing without her discipline.
The bandit was five feet away now and ready to cleave her in two.
Her fingers holding the string flicked out and the arrow whistled through the air, her shot was perfect.
The bandit fell dead three feet from her.