[center][color=lightcoral][h1]3[/h1][/color]

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Three started the the mention of a war, and abilities. He began to say something, but Nine was off before he had a chance. Two left as well, and honestly, Three didn't like the idea of being in the same room as a fight either. Especially when the fighters were in much better physical condition than himself. And so, with a shrug, he followed the group. The hallways were similar to the previous room. Kinda boring. The endpoint was only vaguely more interesting. He took a brief look a the chest marked '3', looked at his forearm, and concluded that he'd need something to break the lock. He didn't know how to pick locks.

He looked around. This being a storeroom there were plenty of things to break the lock with. For instance, a sledgehammer. He swung the hammer in a large arc, and the lock clattered to the floor with enough force to chip the cement flooring. He kicked open the box, not wanting to bother with bending over. At least, not until he saw the contents. 

[color=lightcoral]"Oooohohohoho.... Look at this beauty."[/color] He said, to nobody in particular.

On top there was a full length Longbow, and a quiver full of arrows about 1 meter in length. The bow was unstrung to preserve the arms, which were made of yew. He unwound the string from the arms, braced one end on his foot, with the other going in a diagonal line over his back. He reached up, higher than head height, and flexed the bow back with the strength of his full body. Having strung the bow, it was almost as tall as him. He was satisfied that if he could string it he could draw it, so he just unstrung it. He took a moment to ponder how he knew to do all of this, but reasoned that the answers would be in the chest.

He slipped the quiver on his belt around his waist, and checked the chest again. There was a heavy woolen coat, a large knife, and a backpack. He donned the coat, and checked the backpack. Judging from the contents he was some kind of forest ranger. Cool. He strapped the knife on his belt, just in front of his quiver.

He was happy with what he had, and relieved that he had reclaimed some of his identity.