Auralan Sentinels treat archery as applied mathematics. In the open they loose flat, punishing volleys; against a hidden foe they shoot skyward instead, whispering guidance into the light as each arrow crests, so that the shaft drops out of the sun onto a target who believed stone walls meant safety. Warlords have died in the hearts of their own fortresses without ever learning they were in range.
Sentinel arrowheads are sunmetal, and when ritual chants charge them they burn what they pierce from within — flesh, armour and corruption alike, which the Sentinels account a courtesy, since light leaves nothing unclean behind. They are quiet, exact, faintly unnerving company: archers who discuss wind and distance the way Scinari discuss theology, and who are never seen to loose twice at the same mark.
Order of battle
