Petros surveyed the ongoing battle aboard the ship. One tactic, aim at hostiles but never shoot, had become routine for him in his short time on the ship. He had no doubt that this ruse would eventually get him in trouble, but for now it served to keep him sane. In reality, Petros wasn't as comfortable as some of his crew-mates when it came to killing. Sure, he'd defend himself if a pirate were to ever rush him, but being that his style was best used in the back lines- there never seemed to be much chance of that. After all, between Fletcher, the pilots, and the crew in the front lines- incidents didn't seem to last for very long. The enemies never got very far, and it always ended up feeling like a skirmish rather than an outright battle.
Instead, Petros would occasionally draw from his assortment of explosive bows- seeking to fire them into the enemy canons or to cause enough disrepair on the enemy ship to force a retreat. Petros was rather exceptional when it came to aim. He managed to take out a few of the enemy ship's weapons. He took a slow breath with each shot careful about his placement to avoid hitting hostiles. From his vantage point, he could see Fletcher dealing with some of the enemy pirates himself. He was certainly a skilled fighter. His apparently supernatural abilities were enough to make Petros more than a little nervous, however. In fact, any of the crew that possessed such capabilities made the archer's heart skip a few beats now and again. Shrugging it off, he continued his shooting. Hopefully this fight would be over soon.
Even then, an end to this madness meant traveling to Sheol for the Festival of Light. An unfortunately persistent tradition of fools in a drunken stupor injudiciously romping about the towers. Petros was neither religious or a drunk, and so the prospect of him spending a week in Sheol was utterly dreadful. Either way, this meant some shore-leave and Petros could definitely use a break. He'd likely make haste for the quietest corner in a library, and bury himself in archival studies for the week. Now that was a thought...
Instead, Petros would occasionally draw from his assortment of explosive bows- seeking to fire them into the enemy canons or to cause enough disrepair on the enemy ship to force a retreat. Petros was rather exceptional when it came to aim. He managed to take out a few of the enemy ship's weapons. He took a slow breath with each shot careful about his placement to avoid hitting hostiles. From his vantage point, he could see Fletcher dealing with some of the enemy pirates himself. He was certainly a skilled fighter. His apparently supernatural abilities were enough to make Petros more than a little nervous, however. In fact, any of the crew that possessed such capabilities made the archer's heart skip a few beats now and again. Shrugging it off, he continued his shooting. Hopefully this fight would be over soon.
Even then, an end to this madness meant traveling to Sheol for the Festival of Light. An unfortunately persistent tradition of fools in a drunken stupor injudiciously romping about the towers. Petros was neither religious or a drunk, and so the prospect of him spending a week in Sheol was utterly dreadful. Either way, this meant some shore-leave and Petros could definitely use a break. He'd likely make haste for the quietest corner in a library, and bury himself in archival studies for the week. Now that was a thought...
