Solo [Canopy Traning Area] Bows and Arrows

[Zandelia]

Winter 22nd, 512 AV – Canopy Training Area

The chilling winds were merely a soft brushing across her cheeks as she made her way towards the canopy, or more accurately the training area within the canopy. It had not taken long for the Spires to see the value in a central, disciplined training area where its residents could learn how to defend themselves – and their city, should another Reclamation be needed. Zandelia saw great wealth in its creation, going much further beyond the martial and decidedly into the cultural – the Spires was styling itself as a truly open and accepting community now and actively tried to attract those from other lands. There was selfishness to it too, for how could the Jamoura advance their wisdom without other race’s perspectives? Still, it was a worthy endeavor.

And one I am damned grateful for right now. I wouldn’t trust myself not to kill someone training with this new weapon without the walls, targets and safe area of the training canopy she thought as she passed across the rudimentary threshold, hefting her newly purchased composite short bow in one hand, holding her cloak fast at it rippled with the other.

Her path had been from the south and so she found herself passing the area dedicated for the other races, or learning their particular methods of fighting. On her left there was the Akalak portion, she stopped for a few moments to watch with interest – noting that the instructor seemed to be trying to goad the darker side from his opponent, a dangerous activity if done incorrectly she had been informed. To her right she say a Knoti dancing with her swords, beautiful and graceful, she was a vision Zandelia would have loved to see in a more private location. A Jamoura worked also, along with an Akalak. To her surprise the giant ape was using tonfa – her own weapon.

I will remember that, it could be useful indeed to test my skills against the shaggy brute she tucked the thought away as she pressed on into the central area.

It was a raised dias of sorts, diamond in shape and with a small medic’s hut in the middle. Tables and chairs of varying sizes scattered the wooden resting area and she saw, with some satisfaction, that casual snacks had been laid out for consumption by those in training. She rescued a pinch of nuts from a bowl as she passed and placed them into her mouth, crunching them and enjoying the oily texture as she made her way to the archery targets in the north-eastern part of the grounds. It was a large expanse for practice, the targets giving the archer about fifty yards of distance to play with. She would not need that much, not yet. In point of fact she didn’t even enter the target area yet, she merely sat upon the steps leading them and brought her bow into her vision.

“If you’re going to use a weapon you’d better bloody well know it well first” she muttered, the words of the past echoing inside her skull, her original tonfa instructor’s. He was dead now, by her own hands.

So, what do I know? she thought as she ran her hands across the weapon’s surface.

“Wise words, for a human” the deep bass voice came from above, and behind, her. It broke her from her reverie with a start, her brows knitting into a frown.

“Oh? I have never been credited with wisdom, thank you for being the first to do so. But unless you know how to teach me the use of it then keep walking, I am not looking for a spar today” she responded, not even turning around.

“I could teach you, but a student must learn manners first, discipline requires a meek heart. If you wish to spend all day looking rather than doing so be it, there are plenty of others to train” the disembodied voice snapped back at her, short and sharp.

Zandelia sighed and stood, turning upon her heels smoothly to find her vision filled with a mountain of deep green muscle. The Akalak was huge, easily twice her size without even counting the rippling muscles and broad shoulders. She was not inclined towards the male physique usually but even she had to admire it for what it was – a work of art. She tilted her head and looked up into his face.

“I don’t do well with meekness, but manners I can do. If you would teach me” she opened more tactfully this time, “and my name is Zandelia” she finished.

“It will do for now Zandelia, they call me Verand” he responded with a small nod, his arms crossed across his chest as he weighed her with his eyes.

[Zandelia]

The towering Akalak known as Verand merely took a few chimes to look her over, circling her slowly as he prodded and poked her muscles, assessed her strength and joint conditioning and as far as she was concerned paid far too much attention to her breasts and rear than she could willingly accept. Still, she bit her tongue and allowed the embarrassment to continue to its conclusion, she was no fool and knew without a doubt he could teach her better than she could learn through her own trial and error. She tried not to scowl overly much but Verand must have picked up on it as he tapped her brow with two solid fingers sharply. She growled slightly as a grin crossed the man’s lips as he continued to circle her, palms probing.

“Will this take much longer? You can’t see that much through my armor anyway. If you want a lay then buy me a damned drink” she snapped at him finally.

“Good! You have aggression, the willingness to fight even your instructor. This is good, it means you aren’t weak – and I never teach the weak. It often gets others killed in their place,” Verand responded, “but there was a purpose to the first few looks. Your build lends itself to speed, not strength. This is good in some ways, bad in others. You need to develop more upper body mass to be an effective archer. But that is for another time” Verand imparted this wisdom as if her were stating the time of day or the chill winds flicking their hair about their faces.

Testing me? Testing my temper. Or my discipline? she thought to herself as she considered his words and how she would retort them, but she found none came. He was correct and she had to admit it, she had overlooked muscular strength in her line of living.

“I’ll work on it Verand, I believe there are some exercises a friend knows that can help me” she responded, brushing some hair from her eye and looking at them, he nodded once before continuing his instruction.

“See that you do, because if you wish to learn from me I expect to see improvement, quickly. And lessons will be every three days. I ask no money, only that you use the skills I impart with honor and integrity. Those are my terms” he leant forwards a little them, hands on hips and staring into her single eye with deep concentration.

Integrity? Honor? Foolish concepts, I have never held them in much regard. But if it takes that to learn so be it. When I am away from here how will he know? she mused as she looked back at him, defiantly not breaking her gaze.

“Fine. I will do both, though I doubt you could call me honorable Verand, I am no Knight” she accepted his terms quickly, they were good and required nothing but effort – effort she was planning to put into it at any rate.

“All have honor, they just do not know it,” he told her firmly, “now on to first observation. You have one eye”

“What of it?” she asked him, anger lacing her tone of voice, she knew what he said was true after all, she did not need anyone to remind her.

“Do not be angry, it is simple enough. Distance is best gauged with two eyes. You have adapted already to seeing and moving as a warrior, this is good. But long distance archery will take more adaptation. You must be prepared for this, to fail much before you succeed. If you have the heart you will succeed. Follow me, Zandelia” Verand proposed, walking away from the targets and towards an open area intended for sparring, judging from those hacking away at each other.

She shook her head, his words causing bitterness to fill her as she clenched her fingers around her bow hard enough to stretch her knuckle joints into pain. She whirled and followed him, trying to remain as composed as possible. She had no idea how he was going to teach her without targets, but she had agreed to his tutelage and had to follow his lead.

This will be harder than I thought she growled internally.

[Zandelia]

Verand stopped towards the south-eastern corner of the rectangular section arms crossing his chest in what Zandelia was beginning to think was his modus operandi body position whilst teaching – it certainly leant him an air of the imposing. He waited for her to catch up with him, his longer strides had easily outpaced her and she had refused to tire herself out by jogging just to keep up with him, she had her own pride at times and she would not take to heel like a puppy. She faced him squarely and he motioned for her to hold her composite short bow out in between them for his inspection. She did so and he ran his hands across the weapon a little as if he could sense its make by his palm alone. She almost was able to believe it as he nodded to himself.

“May I?” he asked her, his glance moving to the weapon briefly.

“Go ahead, teacher” she let him take it from her hand with only mild reluctance. He likely knew more about it that she did and so she doubted he would damage it.

She watched with keen interest as Verand felt up the length of the weapon, caressing the differing materials almost lovingly. She peered closely at it as even went so far as to sniff it in places – she could only presume he was trying to discern what it was made of and how. It was an interesting weapon to say the least, its unique composition was partially the reason she had purchased it in the first place – along with the fact that she knew she would need some form of ranged defense with what she intended to do. She knew she was not meant for the Longbow and so had opted for something lighter, smaller but as effective as she could find. She found herself wondering why she had chosen this one above the others and realized it was because it had been out of place, much like herself.

“The bow has three main parts, pupil,” Verand spoke the title with amusement, “the upper limb, lower limb and the riser. Each can be sub-divided but we will go over that later. For new we will discuss the weapons construction, for your first words were wiser than you know” he opened with after he had finished his inspection, pointing to the three main parts of the weapon as he named them.

“See these curved portions on the tips of the limbs, attached with the clever use of natural glues?” he asked, waiting for her to inspect them and nod, they were curved outwards and their tips began to point towards where her targets would stand before ending, “these are called siyah’s, these ones are designed to form rigidity to the ends of the limbs, the nocks – or string groove - holding the bow string attached and forced to store more energy due to the lathe’s positioning and composition – they are made of antler in your weapons case” Verand continued his instruction as Zandelia listened and he let her gaze and touch feel out what he was talking about as he did so.

I’m finding a new appreciation for this weapon already, as well as my own intuition. Master crafted indeed! she thought to herself with mounting awe.

“Now, the bending portions of the limb, both upper and lower, are called the dustars, dustar for just one. In the composite bow’s case they are made of three types of material, these running throughout and forming the majority of the bow – we will come to that at the end” Verand paused, looking at her and making sure she was keeping up with his instruction.

“Dustar, dustars. Siyah’s, nocks. Upper limb, lower limb and riser. I understand so far, I have a sharp mind” she grinned at the green Akalak.

“Indeed,” he continued, “let us move on to the riser then. Made up of three simple yet highly important parts. First comes the grip, central in positioning and in your case made from inter-wrapped strips of leather, finely wound around the bow and just wide enough for a hand and a half to hold onto the space. Above it we have the arrow rest, the place where the arrow will rest before you let it fly, in this weapon’s case it is a groove built into the protective laths that cover the area above and below the leather grip. Lastly comes the bow window, just a technical name for everything in the riser above the grip” he paused again for her to let him know she had understood.

Fairly simple to learn but perhaps not enough to build my own she thought to herself.

“Riser is the name for the whole section, the grip is the leather portion where I will hold the weapon, the bow window is everything above the grip until we hit the upper limb. The arrow rest is where I will aim and place the arrow before drawing and releasing. But you mentioned antler laths here too, is that the material that surrounds the leather grip for the whole riser?” she asked Verand with evident interest.

“Ah, I see interest in your eyes pupil, very good, it brightens your eyes,” he told her as she tried to stop embarrassment warming her cheeks, “yes the laths here strengthen the area around the grip with antler again, four sections artfully pieced together to create one entity. It forces the first few hand widths of the limbs to remain solid, increasing the force stored in the dustars when you draw the string – increases range and power, well spotted” he told her with a hint of a warm smile, he was beginning to see possibility within his new pupil perhaps.

“So, we have the laths helping to store more energy, the curve of the siyah’s also doing the same with their recurve shapes. What about the actual composition of the bow, the core of it, I hear that it is the real reason behind this weapon’s strengths” she asked, cheeks gathering a dusting of crimson as he continued to broaden his smile at her, not due to reciprocal attraction but because his type of attention was something she was not used to.

“Yes, but also its greatest weakness, pupil,” he spoke, his tone serious now as he told her of weakness, “ the heart of your bow is made of wood, the hard wood named Maple to be exact and it holds the entire thing together, transferring energy throughout the entire weapon. The belly of the bow, that which faces you, is made of horn splices but I do not know which in truth. The splices are a goof finger’s width at least and are glued on to help store energy under compression – it is much more effective than wood materials so is a vast improvement. Lastly the back, or forwards facing portion of the bow, is covered with thin strips of animal sinew – horse sinew to be precise – and glued on once more. Stretchy and pliant it help provide the pull back force to release the arrow with force. This is a masterful weapon Zandelia” he had almost finished, he had not yet described its weakness.

“But, the glue is its weakness, pupil. Get it wet, damp or infected with moisture and it will detieriortate. Eventually it will fall apart if you are lucky, or more likely the soonest you will know of it if when you pull it and it shatters in your hand during combat. You can protect against moisture damage but that is for another lesson. Yours will be fine for a while yet so we have time” he had now finished, passing the weapon back to Zandelia for her to caress in the same fashion he had.

She had a new respect for her purchase now and, truly, thought it must have been worth far more than she had paid for it.

[Zandelia]

As she held the composite bow in her left hand she let her right hand rove its structure, feeling out what she had just been told. She let the skin of her fingers feel the differences in texture and solidity of the various components. The wood was smooth, obviously lovingly sanded into shape and polished until it gleamed – its density refreshingly enjoyable as she rapped her knuckles against it. It was very hard indeed, she could imagine the force it could transfer into an arrow. The antler was smoother but left less dense, it’s job to provide stability and a protective sheath around the riser. The siyah’s were more flexible and springy, though still almost impossible to bend with her hands, they were designed to provide strength to the tips of the limbs after all. The horn and sinew were strange to her sense, but she knew she would grow used to them, would entrust her life to them eventually. She looked up to see Verand waiting for her to finish her newest inspection.

“What about the string? What is that made of?” she asked him as she pulled back upon it a little, testing its draw weight and finding it to be harder than she had expected it to be.

“This strands of horse sinew again, woven and spiraled into the strong string you see there. Strong but not unbreakable. I would advise purchasing some spare strings, and a safe pouch to store them in, preferably waved leather” her told her matter-of-factly.

An excellent idea, I had not thought of that…foolish not to be prepared for all eventualities she made a mental note to purchase his suggestions when she was procuring the other items for her journey.

“Will standard arrows be sufficient with this weapon?” she asked, almost worried now that she had made a mistake there, unease creeping into her voice.

“For anything but the most armored enemies, but you don’t need to worry about those here. But we are not going to be firing your weapon just yet, first we must discuss what you can do when your enemy is too close to use it as a ranged weapon – an important lesson” Verand took the bow from her then and hefted it in his hands.

He used the curve of one of the siyah’s to hook behind her ankle and pull her off balance without a second’s thought or any words. She was dragged forwards so much that she was off balance, though still standing with some effort and quick reactions. He followed up by twisting the bow around and shoving the other end into her abdomen with enough force to cause a small grunt – far from what he could have done she knew. He finished with a faked strike to the side of her head with the antler riser, a move that she knew would render most unconscious. He stepped back and let her recover as she rubbed her torso a little and grumbled inwardly. That done she scowled at him as he barked a small laugh.

“The weapon is a physical entity, not just something to throw arrows with. Remember that for most forget, you will surprise your foe and survive. You try” he threw the bow at her and she caught it with both hands.

She repeated the moves he had shown her upon him, his body moving along with her though she doubted she could have succeeded against his muscled frame if he hadn’t let her. She hooked his right foot and dragged it forwards with one siyah, twisted the other into his gut –harder than she needed to make statement – and faked a blow to his temple with another twist to lash out the riser. She stepped back and he nodded at her, seemingly having felt no ill effects. That annoyed her more than his previous disarming of her person.

“As I said, you have fire and you do indeed learn quickly. Very well, we have covered the make, the chief weakness, the anatomy and the physical use of the weapon. Now we move on to firing it, just like you wanted to. But remember those moves and practice them well, you may thank me for them one day” he told her.

“Come” he ordered and finally began to lead her towards the archery targets.

[Zandelia]

“The first things you need to learn are the two main stances for firing any type of bow. They will not cover all situations of course but serve for a novice such as you. You will learn responses to non-standard situations in time,” Verand told her as he took the bow from her once more.

Zandelia watched as he took her short bow into his hands and faced the target opposite them, some twenty yards away she guessed with her sight. He twisted his body so that his left shoulder was facing the target, the way his body was facing now completely perpendicular to the target. He held the bow in his left hand, his forwards arm, and kept his back as straight as possible. His neck twisted and head turned to face the target, neck in line with his spine. His feet he placed squarely on the floor, shoulder’s width apart, with knees ever so slightly bent. His right hand came to rest upon the middle of the bow string, the bow angled towards the ground and held just below his waist.

“This is called the square stance,” Verand told her without looking around towards her, “it is a lose stance until you draw and fire, your limbs allowed to freely move so long as you keep the footing. The open stance is exactly the same, except that your forwards foot is stepped forwards a pace” he finished, plating his left foot forwards a few inches and twisting it so that it was diagonally positioned.

“Try it” he told her, passing the bow back to her so that she could get a full cohesion of stance.

She stepped forwards, her short bow in hand, and attempted to slip into the stance. It was not overly difficult given that she had been dealing with combat stances for many years now. She planted her feet shoulder’s width apart and bent her knees slightly. Her back was straight and shoulder’s squared. She twisted her neck as she had seen Verand do and placed her right hand upon the bow string lightly as if she were about to try and draw to let fly an arrow. She held it for a few moments until Verand grunted his assent she was in the Square Stance and then stepped her left foot forwards at a diagonal angle and passed into the Open Stance. Verand grunted again and clapped his hands.

Damn right you should, I am no amateur to combat, even though the weapon itself is new to me she told herself forcefully.

“Well done, you prove your abilities in other weapons and the stances are no issue for you…yet” he told her whilst pausing for a few seconds, “now lift your bow arm out so that it is parallel to the ground and lock out your elbow. Keep your right hand on the string, it should be the height of your shoulder with your arm cutting across your chest, if done right” he offered her the chance by herself this time.

She did as she was instructed and brought her left arm up, bow perpendicular to the ground now and the bow pointed towards the target to her left. Her right hand came to rest upon the string as her left elbow locked out, her right hand crossing her chest and at shoulder height. She grunted as she realized what Verand had meant by ‘yet’. Her ample bosom was touching the inside of her right forearm and would restrict her ability to draw the bow. She stopped and turned to look at Verand.

“Ah, you see as many other women have who have tried to wield the bow. Your natural shape is conducive for attracting eyes and not drawing a bow. You cannot use the exact stance men can, not unless you strap them down painfully. You may wish to do this. If not then you must lean forwards a fraction to be able to draw the string easily, smoothly and without danger of harm” he informed her sagely.

She did as he bid her and leant forwards a little, it was uncomfortable but she was sure with enough practice she would get used to it. He walked around her and came to assess her efforts. He pulled upon her arm to bring the string back and found it held no barrier. She was still a novice but she could at elast learn how to stand properly quick enough it seemed.

“Well done, now we move on to drawing…and firing” he told her.

[Zandelia]

Zandelia stood as Verand manipulated her body with his over-large hands, pushing and pulling her as if she were some kind of giant toy maker’s doll for a child. She knew that he was merely doing it because he did not wish to take the bow from her hands but the thought gave her little comfort as he inspected the end result intently. She found particular discontent with the fact that he spent a number of moments making sure the string would not catch upon her clothing, smiling at her tauntingly as he smoothed her clothing down over her chest. The red of anger reached her face but he merely mistook it for embarrassment, which inevitably made her more wrathfully crimson. When he was finished she was scowling at him darkly and without reservation.

“The next time you do that will be the last time you have fingers!” she snapped at him.

“Teacher’s prerogotive” he responded, for once leaving her with nothing to retort back at him so she seethed in silence.

Look though, feel out the stance, for this is the correct starting position to begin drawing the bow. How to grip it properly will come next session, as will releasing smoothly, but for today’s last lesson you will get the final stances. This is before drawing” he told her as she considered the position he had put her in properly now.

Her left arm was still forwards of her torso, which was in the same position as before along with her legs and footing. What had changed, however, was the height of her forwards hand. It now rested at face height rather than shoulder height, her right hand’s fingers still upon the bow string but now beside and slightly in front of her nose. The position was uncomfortable, especially for her right arm which was now almost framing her head when she looked ahead and not to her side, towards the target. She could see why this was the beginning position though, for as she pulled the string she could pull it down and back, thus bringing it into perfect alignment with her vision for aiming.

“Good, know this position like an old friend for it is better than just madly tugging at the string. From this position you activate more muscles from your back, thus increasing the force you pull with. It makes it easier, and quicker, to draw the string before releasing – a good thing when enemies are closing the distance between you” Verand told her with enough conviction she actually believed him on it.

Now, pull the string and brign the bow down as if you were readying your aim” he instructed her.

She pulled upon the string, gently at first, before finding that a much greater force was required to draw the weapon properly. It was hard for her, her muscles not sued to being recruited to such a task. It was a slow process and sweat stained her brow slightly as she silently thanked him for the correct drawing process as it made it easier. It was when she was almost at full draw that the effort greatly diminished, as if she had suddenly doubled her strength. She presumed that because the bow was bending it became easier as it continued to bend but she had no proof of that assumption. She eventually held the bow at a fraction above shoulder’s height, her right hand almost resting upon her chin as she looked down towards the target – pretending to aim.

“Now release!” he commanded her.

She did so, although slightly clumsily as Verand nodded, not judging her for a poor performer. She was a novice after all. He motioned for her to repeat the motions, giving her no indication for when she was to stop. She sighed, his instructive method beginning to grate a little, and set about her repetition with gusto. Each draw diminished her strength, each release twanged her muscles with sudden lack of effort after much use. He did not tell her to stop at all. No, instead he allowed her to keep drawing and fake releasing until her muscles finally buckled, after some thirty attempts, and clapped his hands to signal the session was over. He left her there, sweating and tired as she let anger rip through her. It lifted her up and forced her into making her goal to prove she could outperform him – even if it were just with the bow.

She went to sit in the rest area in the middle of the grounds, her fingers finding stray food for her stomach as her body and mind replenished themselves.

[Capricious]

Zandelia

Award

Skill	XP Earned	Lore Earned
Weapon: Shortbow	3	• Contact: Verand
Socialization	2	• Note to self: Work on Upper Body Strength
Observation	2	• Basic Anatomy of a Shortbow
		• Becoming Intimate with One's Bow
		• Trust Your Intuition
		• What Makes Up a Shortbow
		• A Shortbow's Weaknesses
		• Do NOT get a Shortbow wet
		• Getting Physically Beat Up With One's Own Shortbow
		• Shooting Stance: Square
		• Shooting Stance: Open
		• Breasts are Not Good for Shooting

Hi There!

I supremely enjoyed this thread. Your writing technique is unique and easy to read. I really like the fact that you pay attention to specific details, such as Verand's instructing technique and how the bow felt.

I did give you several points in observation and socialization. The socialization was learning how to hold one's tongue and respect a teacher, even if one does not wish to. The observation was for studying the bow so intently and noticing Verand's not-so-subtle checking out. You also earned many lores, as requested.

You will feel sore for at least two days from Verand's unexpected attack and for pulling the bow's string.

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, please send me a PM and we can figure it out.