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<noinclude>{{Book Summary
|ON=yes
|sortkey=Archer's Archive, An
|author=[[Lore:Books by Author#Sabarid the Seeker|Sabarid the Seeker]]
|description=The far-ranging travels of a student of archery
}}</noinclude>
To truly master anything, you must leave everything you know behind. When I set out to travel {{Lore Link|Tamriel}} in search of new techniques, some already called me a master of the {{Lore Link|bow}}. I knew this wasn't true. I'd heard tales from distant lands about hunters who could sit motionless for days stalking elusive prey, of bowmen who could fire two and three arrows at a time and still hit their marks, and other, similar stories everyone assured me were just legends and hearsay. Every legend starts somewhere.
The {{Lore Link|Bosmer|Wood Elves}} are renowned archers, so I traveled first to {{Lore Link|Valenwood}}. The journey into the heart of the forest itself was long and fraught with perils I had never known. I spent months searching for a teacher, challenging every {{Lore Link|Elf}} with a bow I could find. Finally, I met a {{Lore Link|Jaqspur}}, an unerringly accurate long-distance archer. He never spoke a word, but accepted my challenge and split my own arrows mid-flight. He tolerated my company, and we hunted beasts deep in the heart of the woods, stalking creatures that I had never seen nor heard of. I learned how to quiet my mind and slow my breathing, and how to lie in wait unmoving, waiting for the perfect shot, no matter how long it took.
After we parted ways (the Jaqspur was simply gone one morning), I tried in vain to gain passage on ships headed for the {{Lore Link|Summerset Isles}}, desperate to discover if {{Lore Link|Altmer|High Elves}} could truly create physical arrows out of nothing but concentrated {{Lore Link|magic}}ka. I'd heard tales of their potent {{Lore Link|alchemy}}, rumors of a potion that can sharpen a man's vision to be like that of an eagle. No ship would have me, though, and I couldn't bribe, beg, or connive my way in.
Undaunted, I continued to the east and into {{Lore Link|Elsweyr}}, longing to obtain an authentic {{Lore Link|Khajiit}}i shortbow. There are many roaming bands of Khajiit in the northern grasslands, and I've been told since that I was fortunate indeed to encounter a group that found me entertaining instead of just an easy mark. Perhaps I was still a bit green, but it was worth the risk to learn their method of rapid shooting from horseback, and how they craft their barbed arrowheads to puncture even tough leather.
Now, I will set out for {{Lore Link|Black Marsh}}, that dread swamp. My Khajiiti companions find my intent to venture there a source of great hilarity, but I won't be turned away. Who knows what the {{Lore Link|Argonian}}s have learned to do with a bow deep in the bogs? What unique approach might they have? I leave this record with the Khajiit to donate to any bookseller in hopes that someone might draw inspiration or knowledge from my efforts.
My journey is not yet over, though I have been away from home for many years. I have learned much since setting out, but most importantly, I have learned that there is far more that I do not know than I ever could have believed.
|ON=yes
|sortkey=Archer's Archive, An
|author=[[Lore:Books by Author#Sabarid the Seeker|Sabarid the Seeker]]
|description=The far-ranging travels of a student of archery
}}</noinclude>
To truly master anything, you must leave everything you know behind. When I set out to travel {{Lore Link|Tamriel}} in search of new techniques, some already called me a master of the {{Lore Link|bow}}. I knew this wasn't true. I'd heard tales from distant lands about hunters who could sit motionless for days stalking elusive prey, of bowmen who could fire two and three arrows at a time and still hit their marks, and other, similar stories everyone assured me were just legends and hearsay. Every legend starts somewhere.
The {{Lore Link|Bosmer|Wood Elves}} are renowned archers, so I traveled first to {{Lore Link|Valenwood}}. The journey into the heart of the forest itself was long and fraught with perils I had never known. I spent months searching for a teacher, challenging every {{Lore Link|Elf}} with a bow I could find. Finally, I met a {{Lore Link|Jaqspur}}, an unerringly accurate long-distance archer. He never spoke a word, but accepted my challenge and split my own arrows mid-flight. He tolerated my company, and we hunted beasts deep in the heart of the woods, stalking creatures that I had never seen nor heard of. I learned how to quiet my mind and slow my breathing, and how to lie in wait unmoving, waiting for the perfect shot, no matter how long it took.
After we parted ways (the Jaqspur was simply gone one morning), I tried in vain to gain passage on ships headed for the {{Lore Link|Summerset Isles}}, desperate to discover if {{Lore Link|Altmer|High Elves}} could truly create physical arrows out of nothing but concentrated {{Lore Link|magic}}ka. I'd heard tales of their potent {{Lore Link|alchemy}}, rumors of a potion that can sharpen a man's vision to be like that of an eagle. No ship would have me, though, and I couldn't bribe, beg, or connive my way in.
Undaunted, I continued to the east and into {{Lore Link|Elsweyr}}, longing to obtain an authentic {{Lore Link|Khajiit}}i shortbow. There are many roaming bands of Khajiit in the northern grasslands, and I've been told since that I was fortunate indeed to encounter a group that found me entertaining instead of just an easy mark. Perhaps I was still a bit green, but it was worth the risk to learn their method of rapid shooting from horseback, and how they craft their barbed arrowheads to puncture even tough leather.
Now, I will set out for {{Lore Link|Black Marsh}}, that dread swamp. My Khajiiti companions find my intent to venture there a source of great hilarity, but I won't be turned away. Who knows what the {{Lore Link|Argonian}}s have learned to do with a bow deep in the bogs? What unique approach might they have? I leave this record with the Khajiit to donate to any bookseller in hopes that someone might draw inspiration or knowledge from my efforts.
My journey is not yet over, though I have been away from home for many years. I have learned much since setting out, but most importantly, I have learned that there is far more that I do not know than I ever could have believed.