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Shouting the war cry of Tyros, blades drawn, they ran toward me across the sand and pebbles of the northern shore of the Laurius. - (Hunters of Gor, Chapter 13, Sentence #35)

The men drew their blades and rushed forward, charging me. They were fools. At point-blank range the temwood shaft can be fired completely through a four-inch beam; at two hundred yards it can pin a man to a wall; at four hundred yards it can kill the huge, shambling bosk; it fires nineteen arrows in a Gorean Ehn, some eighty Earth seconds; a skilled bowman, and not an unusual one, is expected to be able to put these nineteen arrows in an Ehn into a man-sized target, consecutively, each a mortal hit, at some two hundred and fifty yards. Shouting the war cry of Tyros, blades drawn, they ran toward me across the sand and pebbles of the northern shore of the Laurius. These men knew only the crossbow. They ran toward me as I had wanted them to, near the edge of the river, in the shortest line, away from the trees. Their cries drifted toward me, their order to surrender. - (Hunters of Gor)