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[Arcana]

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Arcana sighted along her bowstring at the skeleton shuffling clumsily towards her. Exhaling softly, she let the arrow fly. It riccoched wildly off the skeleton's skull, skittered off a tombstone, and narrowly missed hitting a wandering gypsy.

"Oy! Watchit, gov'nor!" the man shouted, shaking his fist.

"Oops," Arcana muttered under her breath. "Sorry!" she called in a louder voice.

She nocked another arrow, first adjusting her position to as to aim any errant shots into the river. She loosed the arrow, trying for a slightly easier shot, and it struck home in the skeleton's rib cage. The undead thing shuddered and stumbled, but resumed its ungainly advance.

"Ha! That's the ticket! Here's another one, you dusty pile of bon-- ow! Hey!"

Arcana's gloating was rudely interrupted by a zombie smacking the back of her head. She tried to knock an arrow, but at the close range, she ended up tangling her arrow and the bowstring. She swore. "I remember this," she grunted as she resorted to bludgenoing the zombie with her longbow, "as being easier!"

The zombie collapsed in a revolting pile and Arcana eyed her ichor-coated longbow. "Ew," she observed. She shook it vigorously, but without effect. She shrugged to herself and turned her attention back to the advancing skeleton. However, by this time the skeleton had limped its way to her and was just beginning to gnaw on her armored ankle.

"Gah! Leggo you orthopedic disgrace!" She hopped a little ways, but the skeleton was content to be dragged and hung on doggedly. Arcana managed to get her arrow and bowsting in order this time and let fly. The bowstring sent back a nasty recoil of zombie goo, but the arrow had its effect and the skeleton was shattered in two. Unfortunately, the upper part was still in working order and still chomping down on the erstwile ranger's ankle. It had put a rather nasty set of teeth marks into her boots.

She resorted to drawing her sword at last and rammed it point down through the skeleton's skull, nearly taking her little toe off in the process, a direct result of her recent neglect of swordsmanship practice in favor of archery practice. She sat down wearily on a broken tombstone.

"Phew," she said aloud while wiping ichor from her brow. "I remember this used to be easier. I guess I'm not as young as I used to be." She observed this to a crow perched nearby, but the crow had nothing to say on the matter.