[B] The Seventh [/b]

The night was retreating and the sun rose on a fresh new day in the land of Odesh. Bright and early, the new recruits had been awoken and set out into the field and told to stand in a line. Ten recruits, men and woman alike, and all wearing the green colours of the Odeshian Scouting corp. The uniform was simple and easy to move in, allowing the one wearing it to travel comfortably in severe heat and cold. From where they stood, the recruits could spot Coldley, the town they had slept in the night before. The large tower that made up most of the town touching the highest tree tops. In the ranks of the new recruits stood Jopol. the outsider. 

Jopol stood in the line, almost completely to the left, with only one other recruit further away, Joshua. The man he has sparred (the night before?) stood at attention with his eyes focused diligently forward, on what exactly, Jopol had no idea. It had been a long time away since he had lived completely in Ashishia and even a longer time away since his formal training, and he certainly felt he was going to need it now especially. With that in mind, he mimicked Joshua's unallocated stare and began to try and force up every sigh, nod, and utter his old Shi'iti master had ever sounded or gestured.

Pep Zarri stood in front of the recruits, his eyes looking each one up and down. Like a vulture waiting for an antelope to collapse. He had the stripes on his arm signifying the highest rank of the scouting corps. Colonel Zarri. Leader of the Odeshian Scouts and champion of the 20,50 and 80 yard target shots. There are many stories about his crossbow marksmanship, some say he killed two rampaging elephants with a single bolt, others swear they know a friend that saw him shoot a bird out of the sky with his eyes closed. He finally spoke.

"So.." He paused. "You lot want to be part of the Odeshian scouts?" He said aloud, as he began to walk down the line, eyeing the recruits once again.
"You don't look like much.." he paused once again as he got to Jopol. He stood straight in front of him. 
"What in Kammeths name is that shit on your face soldier!" He barked at the recruit. 

Jopol's eyes did not wander, as tempting as it was. Dicipline was the first thing on his mind as the senior officer began his tangent, and was strongly suggested by himself when he heard an all too familiar question. Hiding the annoyed redudency of his answer, he promptly spoke, with the tone of a recruit, "It is the sacred ash," He hesitated, then remembered the end of his answer, "Sir."

His eastern accent, stood out between the words of the commander, despite how watered down it had become over the years of traveling Elyden.
"Sacred ash? That some kind of Dustman oogy boogy stuff?" The Colonel barked back, he needed to punch a recruit today, and this recruit looked like he deserved it.... somehow...

Jopol kept his pose as all sorts of fun responses buzzed in his head, only to be surpassed by a simple, "y... yes."
He wasn't sure if the Shi'iti would approve, but then again, Jopol figured that such a petty issue would be above their concerns. Either way it didn't matter, he wasn't doing this for the Shi'iti or any Ashtoken, he was doing this for Elle.

Pep's fist soon hurtled for Jopol's chest. This all too familiar scene ticked an old response embedded in the back of Jopol's mind, and without thinking, his torso twisted to the side as he launched his own hand perpendicular, snagging the flying fist before it could connect. Washed with sudden sobering realizations of his act, he quickly let go of the Colonels wrist. He had a terrible feeling such reactions wasn't to be rewarded in this volatile stand off of superior and recruit.

Colonel Zarri looked stunned, this recruit had blocked him. This ashfolk had grabbed his wrist. "You.." The colonel seemed like he suddenly didn't know what to say. But soon his brute fullness grew back. "Do you have any idea what the punishment for assaulting a superior in this military is!" Pep yelled loudly, the two scouting corps members who accompanied the colonel nudged Jopol out of the recruit line, as the other recruits stood back a step in unison. 
Jopol looked at the sudden aggressive force that approached him, [i] I suppose it isn't a warm blanket and a cookie, [/i] he thought to himself as he observed the many scowling looks he was recieving. Both his hands were raised with the palms out as if to surrender, backing up slowly after the forceful shove.
"Five lashes" The man continued, his face filled with rage as he nodded for the two scouting soldiers to escort Jopol away. The men grabbed his arms, hoping the ashman would go willingly. 

The Ash skin closed his eyes and flowed with the tugging movements of his torturers. Knowing that struggling would only increase any output of discomfort he might recieve, he bent his own will, much to the dissatisfaction of his pride. The pain of the situation emotionally showed itself on his face, and would soon be overruled by the look of pain from the bare skinned lashings.

The men shoved Jopol into a thick wooden pole jutting out of the ground. His eyes scanned the ground, speckles of old dried up blood littered the dirty grass and the dried out wood. A aggressive hand pulled back on his collar, as if to choke him, while another wiedling a knife ripped his issued shirt open, revealing his bare back. A strong hand held Jopols scalp and forced his forehead into the pole as a whip crackled behind him threateningly. Then with a sharp snap the leather braid so evilly lined with jagged glass and stone cracked across Jopol's back, causing him to wince at the extreme pain and feel of his own blood starting to escape. He wrapped his hands around the pole, forcing his every instinct to fight back down with strained muscles and quick thoughts of serene Elle. He was interupted by another skin ripping slash across his back. The rope bit deeper than the las swing and he clenched his teeth, accidently biting his own cheek and filling his mouth with the metallic taste as the whip cracked again. This time his mind focused on how easily he could escape, all he had to do was throw the man who so roughly held his head into the way of the lash wielder, but he knew it was futile, and this thought was finalized and terminated with another sickening crack of the violent whip. Jopol swore he could hear a small chuckle from the crowd, and any Ashtoken stoicism was fighting it's last breath, almost taken over by foreign rage. With a shuttering inhale he regained his identity, cooling such useless anger, and exhaled with a grunt as the whip lacerated his flesh one final time. The rough hand pushed down on his head, causing him to bump his head onto the pole as one final insult. His head pounded as he felt the warm trickle soak down his back and into his pants, but he could make out these few words from the Colonel, "Don't forget to sew your damned uniform back up you mud caked mess!"
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The following day, Jopol was sent back out into the field at the exact same time as he had done previosley. After his lashing's he had been sent to the med bay, where the doctor had not been kind to the ashtokens back. He had sewn up the back of his uniform and returned back in line with the other recruits, today crossbows had been lain out on a long table just behind where the recruits stood.

"Today you will meet the love of your life" The Colonel was back to his usual drill instructor barking. "You will hold her as if she was your dear beloved, you will not be getting anything else whilst you are in my company. So get used to sleeping, eating, training and fucking with this fine piece of machinery" The instructor lifted a crossbow in his hand. "This tool, is built by some of the greatest craftsman in all of Odesh." He lowered the crossbow. "It is a Hand Ballista, and don't I ever hear any of you call it a crossbow!" He barked the words, particularly at Jopol."The Hand Ballista's behind you are your personal tools, I want you to get accompanied to them before we continue training, Give it a name, take it out for dinner, treat it proper! I will be back in a moment."

The recruits turned and began to look at the finely crafted machinary they had just recieved. 
Jopol picked up his hand balista and examined it carefuly. He ran his fingers across the grain of the wood, determining it's make and details.Coincidently, he figured it was made of Ash wood, a fine tree for fine weapons of range. He fluttered the trigger lightly, figuring out it's release. As an Ashtoken he didn't ever really use a crossbow, but also, as an Ashtoken, he would not scorn a foriegn tool, especially not one so effective. He drew a mental map of the entire device as he studied it carefully, awaiting further orders.

"Now that you have fingered your wives good and proper, Its time to see how good you are at shooting her." Down the field, straw targets where beginning to be set up about 150 feet away. A scouting corp soldier began to lay 5 bolts onto the table behind each recruit.
"Shoot your target, im sure even you numb nuts can figure that out" The Colonel stepped to the side as the targets had finished being set up, the recruits around Jopol began to scoop up their bolts and where already quickly loading them. 

Jopol snatched a bolt and put his foot through the weapons styrup, pulling the tight cord back into the catch. He lifted his "hand balista" and with the bolt loaded, he observed the recruits around him. He had never held or fired a crossbow before, but thankfully he knew how to bullshit and mimick really well. With a false cloak of pure ego thrown around him, he copied the man next to him perfectly, letting loose the bolt with the skill of the victim of his copying.

The bolt skimmed the top of the straw target, missing by mere inches.
"Going to have to do better than that dust boy" The Colonel laughed, the other recruits hitting their marks.
Joshua stood beside Jopol, already onto his third bolt, he turned to the ashman
"The trick is to forget everything you know about archery" He joked "You don't aim a crossbow you point it" He whispered, as he let loose his bolt and it hit centre mass. More bolts where placed on the table behind the recruits.
Jopol nodded understandingly, and grabbed a few more bolts. He reloaded, and this time kept thoughts of Ashishian composite bows out of his head, and simply pointed the contraption, letting loose once more.

The bolt plunged deep into the top of the hay.
"See not too hard" Josh whispered as he grabbed some more bolts. 
"Now do that, but faster, and maybe you can shoot a bolt before the enemy archers have peppered you with arrows" 

"I'd like to see this on a chariot," Jopol mused quietly, letting loose another bolt with a twang. Before he even checked where it landed, he already had another one loaded. He was always told to aim, shoot, and reload and aim again before ever even thinking about if you hit your target or not. He fired again, reloaded, and aimed, this work was repititive at best, but crucial if he was ever to get through this corps and far away from the lovely Colonel.

A long time seemed to pass, recruits where panting and many bolts had shot down range, the targets little more than piles of hay.
"Recreational and rest, back here at sundown" Pep yelled then the recruits saluted. Fists on chests. They began to leisurely walk back to Coldley tower for their lunch.
Jopol stretched his sore hands as he walked casually to the tower, he was unsure what was more unpleasant: Getting his ass handed to him on a silver platter by an Ashtoken elite, or humbling himself to petty insults that never seemed to cease, and not being able to do anything about it. [i]I suppose, [/i] Jopol thought to himself, [i] This is where all that emotion and dicipline training comes into play, and where the classic Ashishian stoicism ideas are proved efficient.[/i] With the tiny conclusion he nodded and blinked at nothing in particular, as if to entertain his idea with the all too familiar Ashtoken response. He was always a man far from the desert, but now he was not only far, but judged by it, much to his own lamentation.
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The recruits soon returned, rested from the hard work they had done that morning. 
The tables had been removed and five large ballista's sat snuggly in the tall grass.
Colonel Zarri stood their, beginning his usual barrage of words and spittle 
"Now maggots, where going to see how accurate you are with the most powerful weapon in the Odeshian military. The Odeshian Ballista, the weapon that smacks Kammeth himself in the face. It can take down an elephant and is used regularly for that reason. Tonight you will be hiking with this fine piece of weaponry. You will be in pairs, each group consisting of a spotter and a shooter. You will move to checkpoint One, marked by a red flag, then you will fire at the target in the makeshift campsite. Killing the target secretly without anyone of his friends knowing. When you are ready, pick up your equipment and head west.

Jopol was confident, when you are trained to fight in a sandstorm, you pick up on how to spot obstructed, or nearly invisable targets. Now it was just a matter of shooting again. He gave Joshua a nod, as to signify their possible teaming up.

Joshua nodded back and they both walked up to the ballista, it was a large wooden monstrosity, weighing as much as the man carrying it. 3 large bolts snuggly fit in a holder on the right of the weapon. "We carry it above our heads" Joshua told Jopol "On our shoulders." He muttered as he went to pick it up. Jopol obeyed and fit it as comfortabily as one can onto his shoulder, and began his march.

The walk wasn't pleasant, but it could have been worse. The ballista was incredibly heavy, but the ground was flat for most of the hike. The sun had set and the moon was the only light that enveloped the field.
"So.. how are you taking it?" Joshua asked, grunting as he heaved the large weapon.

" To be honest," Jopol said in a hushed tone, "I just want to get it over with, but I do value what I'm learning."
Jopol pointed a finger, while his shoulder strained from the weight, "Isn't that the flag?"

"The training is rough, but if you survive it then you come out as some of the hardest their is" Joshua smiled then squinted to where his friend was pointing "Yeah, on that hill." The small flag waved in the light breeze as it was surrounded in thick bushes. As the duo moved closer, they could see that the position was elevated above a small campfire site, tents where set up and torches where in placements. Straw dummies also littered the camp.

 "Ok so we have to kill the one that would be in charge..." Joshua muttered, looking for the most well dressed of the dummies "You look, I will set up the ballista" The two placed the weapon down as Joshua began to set up the bipod. 

Jopol eyed the camp, the dummies were dressed in low quality armor to simulate a real soldier, nothing string enough to stop a well shot arrow, let alone a massive bolt projected a many times the power. One wore a red bandanna and a false badge of wood, he stood behind half circle of other dummies. It was possible to easily take this fake man out with a well placed shot, and also possible to take out the man who stood so close to him with an even better placed shot. Jopol turned to Joshua who had just about finished his own task, and explained the grouping.

"Sounds easy, you fire and I will spot you." Joshua stood up and began to crank the large ballista, the rope slowly pulling back. The weapon was soon primed and the Odeshian placed the 3 foot long bolt into its loading position. Then he kneeled beside the crossbow, taking out a small device to measure wind and elevation needed. 
Jopol lined and pointed the large machine to his target, and flirted with the trigger a little, adjusting his aim just a little. When all was ready, the trigger was squeesed and a rather silent swoosh and snap jerked Jopols arm as the massive bolt shot throug hthe air faster than one could see. The monster bolt ripped through the captian dummies head easily and kept going, only to be stopped half way through the dummy behind the capain. Straw littered the camp, and Jopol was rushed with a sense of achomplisment.

"Not bad" Josh smiled "Now lets get back to the tower." 
Jopol nodded, and then blinked.