Farmer Geddin sits visibly shaken with a mug of ale in his hand.  His two chums sit opposite him in the Rotten Apple inn, listening to him tell his latest tall tale.

It all happened to quickly, honestly! I didn't get a chance to look at him proper, but I think he's the fella some of them talk about. Some say he grew up in the Dales, others say he's from Gondor.  Others yet say he was born in the wild, and others still say he was raised by Elves!

Wherever he came from, he seems to be known by the locals here and by the locals down in the South country too. Certainly gets around, I'll tell ye that.  Regardless of what the stories say, they all come to the same conclusion; he's mighty fine with a bow. I found that out first hand, I did!

See, what happened was, I was up on the ridge searching for some lost sheep. I found one of 'em then before I knew it I was on my knees. A sharp pain hit my side, and then I was on my back. Lurching over me were three of the most hideous creatures I've ever seen - Orcs, they were.  One of em raised their blade and let out a horrible cry.  I didn't even have time to process that I was about to die, until a voice rang out from atop the hill.

"HO! HEY! What do you want with him? Surely I'm more valuable!" the voice shouted. I struggled to make his exact words out due to the stream running just behind us.  The Orcs turned around and looked up at the top of the hill. This chap was standing there, crossbow in hand, his short, tied up hair jiggling in the wind.

"I'm going to shoot the three of you, no avoiding that!" the man shouted rather flippantly at the Orcs. "You can either get shot down there, or come after me and get shot up here!"
The Orcs took a look at each other and ran up after him. It was if I suddenly didn't exist!

They ran all weird like -  they ran up the hill, but all weird like, from side to side - trying to avoid his bolts, I suppose.  The man atop the hill just laughed.

"Really? A zig-zag pattern? Surely you think more of me than that!"

They just snarled and ran up after him, as like a wild beast running after prey.

"There's a certain practice known as 'leading your target'!" the man shouted, seemingly following them with his aim. "It's one of the first things you learn when you start shooting at live prey. See, you there, you're running that way, but when I shoot you you'll fall..."

He let off a shot and it whizzed past the the first Orc, into the valley below. The fellow hissed a curse under his breath and shook his head.  He snapped another bolt into place and took aim once more, following the Orcs closely as they zig-zagged up the hill. They were runnin' pretty slow, I must admit. Another "pang" rang out, and one of 'em collapsed to the ground then rolled down the embankment into the stream.

"...There! And you..." he said, aiming at the next one, "Will run...yup, right there!" Another shot went off and the second Orc let out a shrill cry. He stumbled over a rock and lay still. The last one paid no heed to this and kept running up to him in this zig-zag shape.

"As for you! You'll fall right about here, at my feet."

The man waited a few seconds until the Orc was within a few feet from him then he let off another shot, right into the Orc's leg. The Orc fell forward with a scream, landing right at the man's feet. It looked up at him, all sheepish like.

"Told you!" he taunted, as another shot went off and the Orc's head shot backwards before the thing slumped forward, all limp.

The man then went down the hill and looted the Orcs one by one. I was still on the floor, rather shocked by the whole thing. The man made his way over to me eventually, looking down at me with moderate interest.

"What brings you a way out here?" he asked. I answered, and he smirked a little.

"Well now, bet you didn't expect your day to get -this- exciting! How much do you have on you?" I didn't quite understand this, so I asked him to elaborate.

"Well, you're a farmer! Farmers are often rich types, are they not? I just saved your life. How much is that worth?"

I couldn't quite believe it to tell you the truth. No sooner had this fella saved my life than he was trying to rob me! I was having none of it. Then he aimed his crossbow at my head.

"Now now," he said, "Come on. I'm obviously not going to shoot you. Of course I'm not going to shoot you! But surely having a lovely, strong crossbow like this in your face will put -some- amount of pressure on you to give me some kind of reward! How much do you have on you?"
As it happened, I had 2 pouches of silver on me.

"There we go, two pouches.  I'm not a vargrant; I'm not going to ask for both pouches. That would be robbery! I think one pouch of silver in reward for saving your life is rather fair, wouldn't you say?"

I was in no position to argue, and the man -did- have a point after all. So I took a pouch from my belt and handed it up to him. I expected him to say something else, but he didn't really.  He just kind of went "Excellent!", bowed his head and turned on his heel. I didn't see him again after that. Don't know what to make of the fellow. Don't even know what he was doing up there! I asked around after and some folks said he's an Orc hunter.  Rumour has it he was searching for a small pack that had separated from a larger group somewhere up north. Whatever his motives, I'm glad he was there.

Farmer Geddin takes a large mouthful from his mug, still trying to process his odd encounter with this rather odd fellow...