Diary of soldier Pedhaer, soldier of the third Evendim Footmen company. Summary of February, Third Age 2983.

So yeah. Training a bunch of archers. I thought this was going to be easier. See, most of these men were hunters before they joined up, meaning they already have their fair bit of experience. Every arrow went in the right direction and I didn't end up with dozens of wounded folks from the first day. No, the problem was on my end. I'm good at hunting, see. Back when I hung out with uncle Duivorin and his merry band of Beast Slayers, I picked up a few tricks of them. Let me hunt in peace and I'll nail any shot I take. The downside of that is that I am useless as an archer when it comes to rapid firing. If I'm alone, surrounded by nothing but nature I can take my time to focus, aim and fire. Under stress... I don't perform well. I can draw quickly and let loose, but I really can't tell where approximately the arrow will land, which is not what you want from an archer company.

It's at times like these that I wish uncle Duivorin had never kicked me out. I mean, I understood why. I'm not the type who goes out to fight fellow Men. I don't hold that against him. It's just that, well. I had a home there, you know? People who looked past the fact that my face looks like a burned out matchstick. I keep my helm on most of the time. Went without it to go to the latrines in the middle of the night once, when we had gone out a ways in the woods to train. One of the lads spotted me. Thought I was one of the wights from the Barrows, come to eat his soul. It would put a man down, if I actually still cared. I've gotten used to it, really. The Dwarves, stubborn bastards, refused to let it affect them, but I could see it in their eyes. The Elves looked at me with pity, which was probably even worse. The other folks I met shunned me at best. Attacked me at worst. Only with uncle Duivorin and the tribes did I find a token of peace. Those folks were used to hardship. They didn't give a damn about my face. I was part of the tribe, the family to them.

But enough about the past. I'm here to write about the job that the sodden Rangers dumped in my lap. Training the fourth company of Evendim Bowmen. Fancy name for a gaggle of hunters, given some scraps of armour, an old sword, learned how to stand in line and then shoved off to poke some Orcs with arrows from... I would like to say afar, but compared to Beast Slayers their range is rather limited. Their bows aren't very powerful either and their arrows are simple and fairly primitive. Won't do much good against armoured foes or Orcs coming at you with shields raised, but I suppose if you throw enough arrows at the bastards they'll start going down regardless of how good your own equipment is. Speaking of, I should see if I can't arrange any armour for them. The way they are now, if an enemy starts peppering these blokes with arrows they'll die in droves. Tunics don't exactly offer much in the way of protection.

I couldn't teach the men much in the way of shooting their bow. I left that part up to the drill sergeants and I mostly made sure none of them behaved badly. None of them did. Apparently the rumours of what happened to the last couple of bastards that thought they could bully the trainees without consequences had spread amongst this group. I have to wonder though, normally the Dúnedain trained the new squads themselves. What was happening out there in the wilds that they had to hire men from Bree to train the newcomers? Given that I'm actually starting to get attached to these unruly, unwashed yokels, I've started worrying for them. And for the group that left earlier. I'm getting distracted.

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After the drill sergeants managed to convey the basics of volley fire and had brought the men up to a decent level, I took the men for a test. They were fully equipped, with blunt arrows rather than normal ones and cudgels rather than swords, and me and a group of volunteers would try to come close to them with shields. What I didn't tell the group was that we'd get close regardless. I've seen enough ranged battles in my life so far, including the well drilled Elven regiments, and what those guys did to Orcs. The men knew how to shoot a bow and how to do so in group. I wasn't concerned about that. No, the test begins when the worst happens. Dúnedain Rangers are trained for it. Elves are trained for it. Even Beast Slayers, although they're not a fan of it, will hold their ground when an enemy manages to close in enough for a melee to start. A golden rule of mine. Prepare for the worst. And pray it doesn't happen.

Still, I went with it. So the hundred strong group fired volley after volley at me and my twenty-odd volunteers charged them. The blunt arrows stung a fair bit, but the shields held the most. In a real fight, I'd have been dead several times over. We closed in at the end though, and given that all the drill sergeants were in my team, it ended about as well as I expected. Which means it was an unmitigated disaster. They abandoned their lines, fought individually rather than as tight groups and even though they had us five to one, we beat them and sent them running within moments. I had gone in with very low expectations and they managed to disappoint me still.

I told that to the Ranger who came to fetch them, earlier this week. They're good men. They can be relied on to pepper the enemy with arrows, but the moment they are exposed to counter fire, or heaven forbid, get dragged into a melee, they'll last for all about five seconds before running away. I hope they'll never get exposed to a cavalry charge. Poor blokes wouldn't even get the chance to run if that were to happen. I don't think they'll ever learn either. Their archery might improve a bit, but their swordplay will always be rubbish. It's just not in them. Still, I did all I could given the short time allotted to me.

Now, I'm preparing for my next job. I don't know why this keeps happening, but my meals improve with every job change so I don't dare complain overmuch. I've gone hungry often enough in my life and a change of scenery doesn't bother me. Maybe I'll even get lucky and see some Orcs from up close. I just hope the men I trained will do well. I know most of them on a first name basis. Many of the hunters even have a home to go back to. I hope they'll survive their time in the Evendim militia. Anyway, I'm going to stop writing now. My arm is cramping up and I have a long day of riding ahead of me. It's been a while since I've sat on a horse. I wonder how the beasts up here compare to the hillponies down south. Here's hoping I won't get chucked off and break my neck.

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