You are Noel Tiberius, queen of Hazaran and former number Seven ranked warrior in the nameless Organization which until a few years ago hunted and killed the monsters known as yōma. Those which remain among your kind, often termed ‘silver-eyed witches’ or simply ‘claymores’ after the great swords you carry as weapons of extermination, have joined together under the Hazari banner. The ancestral seat of your father’s clan, Blackthorn Keep, gives them shelter and defense as they continue their mission of providing security as best they can.

But the Organization’s reach is long, and their tolerance for rebellion is limited. They had already intended to send you all to your deaths at some point, so their desire to eliminate your companions now is more offensive than dangerous, and their desire to kill you in particular is a triviality. But their willingness to destroy your people, and even their neighbors, as part of their efforts? That is unforgivable.

Now you find their artillery pounding defensive positions around the key strategic town of Rosemarkie, after an attempted raid under cover of darkness failed to gain any ground against your well-prepared troops.

To get a better view of the battle you head to the top of one of the fortified hills that ring Rosemarkie to the north and west, clambering up a steep hill in the dark. Your eyes can pick out the details in the low light, which makes it easy for you to maintain a break-neck pace without actually breaking your neck with a misstep, and you quickly reach the fortress.

“Ma’am!” a soldier greets you hastily, omitting the usually-customary salute. “We’re getting a lot of fire from down below, but they’ve moved their guns so we’re having a hell of a time targeting them in the dark!”

After ducking back to get clear of a shell that takes out a chunk of the edge of the wall with a whistling screech, you peer down into the abyss. Sure enough you can see the flashes of the muzzles, but without your keen eyes and your training at hunting in the dark you would have a hard time discerning how far those brief flashes actually are. So it’s less an issue of direction and more one of getting the range correct.

“That’s why you’ve backed your long guns off the wall?”

The man nods. “No sense exposing them to enemy fire if we can’t get the range in. They’ve got us at a disadvantage in the dark - they know where we are.”
>1/2