He was the most skilled archer in his unit. He could hit a bullseye with a longbow at a hundred paces. He could shoot a bird out of the sky, and had done so, in the forests he called home.
But here he was, thrown together on the front lines in a battered helmet and a leather jerkin, standing in a line and firing blindly into the opposing army. His talents were going fallow.
He should be sniping enemy knights. He asked his commander for a promotion. The nobleman put him on latrine duty for a month for his impertinence.

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