Closed [Anthonius Fighter's Pit] Progression (Marrick)

[Katelyn Marks]

70th, Fall, 514 AV

She had worked up a light sweat by the time the lesson was over. Their slow and easy movements hadn't exerted much energy, but she'd learned quite a bit. Everything had been coordinated at a careful pace, and then gone back over a little faster until reflexes started to kick in. She smiled at Garreth, who looked completely at ease like the whole thing was nothing. Really to him it wasn't. This sort of thing was elementary, and his muscles were used to the weight of weapons and shields.

"You did good," Garreth praised finally, sheathing his sword. "Keep practicing though. You have a long way to go. This was the bare bones basics."

"It was a little more enjoyable than I thought it would be," she admitted, feeling her muscles hum with excitement and adrenaline despite the slow speed of their session.

It had been exhilarating, and she found herself smiling crookedly. Garreth laughed under his breath.

"If you ever want another lesson, I'll be here."

That was her dismissal. There were others to attend to that needed his help. Katelyn fished five gold mizas out of her coin pouch and offered them to him with a heartfelt thank you. He nodded and they split ways, him in search of another trainee, and her to the weapon rack to return the shortspear where it belonged. Kat sighed and looked at the weapons displayed there. Maces, axes, swords, daggers, spears, even a halberd. Beside it, another rack of various ranged weapons. Of all the things for her to enjoy. Who'd have thought?

[Marrick Corvis]

The wood in his hands felt cool and smooth as he ran his right hand across its polished surface. His order issued longbow lay resting peacefully and unstrung in the rack at his side. There were other archers of the order, as well as some civilians all trying their hand at shooting. Marrick had managed to find himself a nice spot on the loosing line and it even had a chair. Inside he felt the squirm of extreme contentedness over that little bit of wood with four legs and back, Especially now that he was inspecting his prize for the first time since he had managed to acquire it on a patrol. The thief he had gotten it from, was likely toiling away in the mines. It was a true shame. The man who wielded this on a day to day basis must have been a real artist. Marrick contemplated this as he felt the simple curves of the longbows limbs, and simple leather grip. The notch at either end was made of antler, which made sense. It was a bow of a hunter. The Kelvic felt attracted to the weapon like a moth to flame. As he stood to his feet he slung the long piece of ash over his shoulders and flexed its limbs against his broad back, feeling its draw with his arms. He sighed a long contented exhale of hot air as he released its flex and was reminded of the nature of breath and bowman-ship. Just as Ser Whitevine had told him. It was energy, flowing and flexing. Unable to wait any longer the Kelvic pulled a fresh string from his hip pouch and hung it over one of the Antler Notches at the end of one of the bows long limbs, and slid the stave through his legs to flex it into the weapons namesake shape. The bow fought feebly against the strength of his legs until he managed to slip the other end of the fresh bowstring over the opposing notch. As he let the bow relax its shape the string hummed in pleasant tonality until at last the strain against it, silenced its tinning. The weapon felt good in his hand. Like a well-balanced tool ready for what it was made for. The Dark Haired squire took a deep breath and stepped to the line. With a slow purposeful movement he pulled a target arrow from his hip quiver and notched it to the grip. With a deep breath he pulled the draw of the bow. It was a struggle to bring the knocking point back to his nose as the sharp little payload sang fluidly along the grip. The Kelvic narrowed his eye and looked along the shaft till he found the mark of a forty pace target. The bow had a strong draw. Yet, erring on the side of caution was always something the Kelvic tended to… Unless he’d been drinking. With a smooth exhale he let go of the shaft and the bowstring flexed the arrow forward with a twang of twined gutt. The arrow sailed high over the target and landed somewhere a good sixty or so paces away. Marrick eyed where he thought the arrow landed and flexed his right hand in discomfort. His callouses were still developing and a fresh string was always a little rough to use. After a couple of loosening shakes he notched a second arrow and drew back with another deep inhale. He pulled the arrow back until he could smell the glue and fiber they’d used to fletch the turkey feathers to the end of the arrow. The Kelvic narrowed his eyes to dagger like slits and found his mark. This time he didn’t give the arrow as much arc. He released with quick exhale and watched as the shaft buried itself in the forth ring of the forty pace target. The bleached feather on his arrow showed high and a little to the left making the Kelvic clack his tongue in mild frustration as he absentmindedly slid another shaft from his quiver. He sniffed at the air a moment and pulled a handful of grass from the turf and let it go into the breeze to test the direction of the wind. The little bits of brown and green turf drifted lazily to the ground. The wind was affecting his shot. Though just. Marrick didn’t like feeling so unsure of whether or not adjusting his aim would help, instead he notched the arrow and tried to focus on simply siting in the bows draw. The arrow waited patiently against his fist as it clenched around the bows grip. With a deep inhale he brought the turkey feathers of the arrow to his cheek and aimed along its shaft. Passed the slightly shiny metal tip he saw the red circle of the target, with its black ring around it. He raised the bow and exhaled with the release of the arrow. He felt the pleasant rush of success as the long shaft met its mark a few inches high of the red circle. With a deep breath he closed his eyes and slung the strung bow over his shoulders to stretch. The pleasant sound of rubbing leather made the Kelvic sigh contentedly. He had been so focused on siting in the bow he had neglected his surroundings. The Anthonious was busy today. The dark haired squire had to admit he had a morbid satisfaction when he “people” watched. The irony was painfully delicious, and not wasted in the least upon the Raven Kelvic. The faces did tend to blend together. Though somewhere in a nearby field a fight between a Pycon and what seemed to be a human wielding a net. Watching the fight was distracting, though something more memorable caught his attention. The familiar curve of her face, the freckles on her face, and the fiery red hair could not be mistaken. A couple lanes away the Kelvic spied a new, but fast friend as she inspected a rack of bows, javelins, and atlatl. Katelyn was eyeing the set of weapons with a measure of apprehension, and a little smile crept onto his lips. Such a chance meeting demanded a social visit. With a casual grasp he lifted his long bow off of the rack he was standing by and brought it over his shoulder, as he held the thieves bow in his off hand. He approached quietly, only halting a few paces away. He stood a moment, quietly watching her trying to choose a bow before he cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear. “Lookin fer a new sheps crook farm girl?”

[/quote]

[Katelyn Marks]

Her fingers were tentatively reaching to grasp the smooth curve of a longbow propped on the archery rack when he cleared his throat and spoke to her. Startled, she jumped and turned, lips parted in a silent exclamation. When she registered the familiar blue eyes, dark hair, and confident smile, she was relieved. Her own face split into an automatic grin, eyes clinking at the corners.

"Looking for something to beat my brothers up with, actually," Katelyn joked easily. "It's good to see you."

It was then that she noticed the massive bow in his hand. She eyed in curiously before returning her gaze to his face.

"Are you here practicing?" she asked, interest obviously piqued. After all, she'd been about to pick a bow up herself.

"I just had a lesson from Garreth Anthonious." Her eyes glinted with the remnants of excited adrenaline. Her fingers were still trembling. "He showed me some shortspear basics," Kat shared eagerly, smiling foolishly. "I never would have thought weapons training could be so exciting. It's no wonder my brothers are so obsessed with their bows and knives."

OOCI know these are really short right now, but they'll get longer.

[Marrick Corvis]

Marrick could not contain his breaming grin as Katelyn quipped back at his tease pound for pound. “And they’d prolly deserve it too the flock’a sheep!” Marrick laughed loudly at the idea of Katelyn giving her brothers a swift swat from an unstrung bow, just like a shepherds crook. When she told him it was good to see him, his smile grew a little. “And Oi you lass.” Marrick said as his grin melted to a small knowing smile that tugged the corners of his mouth. He felt placid as a lake. It was interesting meeting Katelyn here, and it left him curious about her intentions toward the order. She eyed one of the two long bows he carried and he hefted it up for her to get a better look at it. “Aye. Oi was hopin teh sink a few shafts inta the targets, maybe even shoot at a few that were movin.” He said in response to her question of practice. “Oh aye, us lads n’our toys.” The dark haired squire eyed his friends height a moment and tried to envision a proper bow for her. A long bow would suit her, though perhaps a lighter draw. 30-50 pound would work well. He made his way to the rack and laid down the bows he carried. “A lesson eh, n’ what did yeh learn?” The Kelvic smiled and listened thoughtfully to her response as he would lift a bow out of its crook and test It’s weight before gently placing it back in its place. His mood was very calm yet focused, and he liked the idea of his friend joining the ranks of squires. He wanted to be sure her experience was good, and the bow was a good place to start. He was about through the long rack of bows when his hands touched the long smooth shaft of a lightly colored wood. He lifted it over his shoulders and flexed its shape a couple of times to test its draw. It felt reasonable. He ran his hands along the long shaft of the stave a moment searching for splinters, and was pleased to find nothing but oil treated wood. He even gave it a furtive smell to see if he could divine the kind of wood. It smelled liked the treating oils, as well as the subtle scent of apples. “Ooh, Applewood.” Marrick said as he handed Katelyn the bow. “Here, troy this one Kat.” “Did Garreth teach yah how teh string it up?” the Kelvic said as he fished a fresh gut string out of his hip pouch, and picked up his new bow. When he was ready he flashed her a questioning look of curiosity.

[Katelyn Marks]

"Well, he actually taught me a little about spears. A shortspear in particular. Showed me how to stand, do a little blocking and striking. Very simple things, and all slowly. I have to admit I think I did rather poorly. I've never taken much to weapons, but it was more exciting that I thought it would be," Katelyn explained as she watched Marrick examine the bows and choose one off the rack.

She couldn't help but chuckle lightly when he sniffed it, but when he was actually able to divine the type of wood by its apparent odor that shut her right up. It was impressive to say the least. She took the long-limbed weapon from him and held it in front of her for examination. It was a rather plain thing--really like everything else here. Lighter in color and deceptively heavy for such a slender looking bow. Kat's eyes flicked back to the Squire at the sound of his question and she shook her head in reply.

"I'm afraid not. It wasn't part of what he covered, though I admit it would have been nice--so that I wouldn't be so helpless had I known you'd arrive. I suspect though that you might be able to teach me, and I don't mine swallowing my pride to let you," she teased with a smile.

Kat had to admit to herself that the bow was a weapon which had always interested her. One reason being her mischievous brothers. They preferred archery above any blade, and growing up watching them shoot and hunt had planted a seed that need only watered. It lay dormant until now, but once Marrick had handed her the longbow she felt a few little roots sprout and take hold.

"Would you call yourself a good shot?" she asked offhandedly, eyeing his own bow.

She remember seeing him with it before--the last time they'd been together. Her lips pursed at the memory. It hadn't been the most pleasant of circumstances in the end--not at all. Kat's gaze wandered to spot on his arm that has been shot by a marauder's arrow and felt her lips purse a moment.

OOCReplying by phone. Have mercy!

[Marrick Corvis]

“Short spear eh?” He said with a slow nod as his curiosity tugged at his mind. However, short spear questions would have to wait. He had offered to show her some bow basics, and that task was not complete. “Ye’ll have teh show me sometoime how teh use one.” The words tumbled out of his mouth followed by a warm smile. With a tight tug he slid the loop of one end of the plied gut string over one tip of the bow before he slid the bow and its half strung gut through his legs. With a purposeful breath he flexed it into its arc and looped the other end over the far side and lifted his leg through. “N’ don’t worry about how well yeh do somthin when it comes teh a new skill. A sword doesn’t come fresh outa the forge sharp.” “As far as teachers go, Oi’m certain ye’d do better. But, Oi would never turn down a chance teh embarrass moyself in front of yeh. Oi’d think ye’d figured that out boy now.” The Kelvic’s smirk was filled with self-deprecating glee, but his eyes held a mischievous twinkle that screamed that he didn’t believe it himself. “A good shot?” Marrick chuckled darkly as he slid a long shaft from his quiver. “Nae. Oi’m jest a student loike yerself.” He gripped the bow in his left hand to slide the arrow over the first knuckle of his glove. Just as he had been taught before he took a deep breath and drew the arrow back to his cheek. As the fletchings caressed his face he aimed down its length at the target and exhaled as he let go of the string. The arrow arched gracefully as it often did, but landed in the white paint outside the circle. “Oi can hit the target, especially if it holds still fer me. But ask me teh do more than that, n’ Oi have teh take a fair time aiming.” When he turned his gaze upon his observer he caught a familiar look of concern. Her eyes the old wound on his arm where a Bodkin had pierced it. She had been there that day and had seen him growl rabidly against the pain as he had forcibly removed it. He could almost see the blood still reflecting in the pools of her eyes as she field bound his wound. The little mischievous smile that often crept onto his features when he was privy to a secret blossomed, until she caught him and he chuckled softly. His playful smirk diminished to one of friendly understanding. “It grew back.” He said as he held his sweet smile. “The Gnosi they provide at soothing waters is incredible at healing flesh, and sowing bone. But Oi can’t fool yeh. You were there after all. Arrows hurt. Some more than others.” The Kelvic slid four different arrows from his quiver to show Katelyn a few examples. “’ave a look at these with me a tic.” He splayed the four shafts out in his hand and set his bow down in the rack. “This first one here, is a bodkin, loike the arrow that pierced my arm that day in fall. There are many different desoigns but they all have similar features. The have a hardened or reinforced tip, n’ they’re shaped teh punch through mail and plate. These were issued me. They have a simple square design and a sharp tip.” He ran his finger up to the very tip and gently tested the sharpness before he handed it to her for inspection. “This one-“ He said as he pulled a broad head out. “Ye’ve loikly seen many toimes before. Yeh told me once yet brothers were hunters, so the broad head is a common arrow teh see about. It does best against unarmoured foes, or foes with loight armour. Cloth or leather. Typically flat n’ sharp, loike the tip of a dagger, or dirk.” He handed her the new arrow in exchange for the Bodkin, and slid it back into his quiver while he readied another. “The next one is a blunted arrow. Ye’ve loikely seen this one as well, as it’s popular with the field folk. It’s a foine tool against small game, n’ when yeh don’ wanta kill a foe, simply knock them senseless. The tip is either boiled leather, or metal with a wide circular tip. Sorta loike wee club.” The Kelvic again traded her the new arrow for the broad head and returned the previous arrow to his quiver. As she assessed the arrow he looked about a moment and made sure that if he committed a mildly naughty shenanigan that he wouldn’t be faced with a disciplinary action from his Patron. Most of the folk in the grounds were Knights and their squires. Satisfied enough that he couldn’t contain his excitement to show off a little bit he offered her the last arrow he held and took the blunt arrow back. He placed it back into his quiver with a smile and nodded to the arrow in her hand. “That is a whislin arrow. When the wind passes over the holes in the tip it, shrieks loike some sorta loathsome little bird.” When she handed the arrow back to him he plucked his bow from the rack and notched the whistling arrow over the first knuckle of his glove and drew the arrow back. With a gust of outward air he loosed the fancy little noise maker down range at the furthest target he could see. The arrows cry was loud at first until it faded and died as it’s journey came short of the target. Some of the folks in their training had stopped to see what had happened. Each knights response was different it seemed. Some yelled at him for disturbing their sessions, some smiled and laughed, while yet others chastised their squires for not ignoring the noise and continuing their lessons with unnatural focus. Marrick waved apologetically, but when he turned his gaze back to Katelyn the face he made was anything but apologetic. He bit his lip comically, as he squinted his eyes, before he giggled with all the joy of a child at play before he took a deep breath and sniffed the air to help get the laughter out of his system. “Ahh. One day Oi’m goin teh get in trouble.” When at last he breathed easily he coughed and wet his lips. “Roight!” he exclaimed with a smile as he removed another fresh gut bow string from his pouch and gave it to her.

[Katelyn Marks]

"I can't say you'd learn much from me, but if you like I'll surely give it a try," she admitted, eyes crinkling with a little grin as she watched him proceed to string his massive longbow.

He made it look effortless the way he bent the limbs with the muscles in his shoulders and legs. His words of understanding encouragement had her practically glowing, and it was impossible not to be ready and eager.

"You know, I just realized something," she pondered aloud, giving him an appraising look. "You're going to make a fine Knight one day."

The naked honesty in her warm tone was probably a little too personal, but she meant every word. So much so that it wasn't even a compliment; it was just a fact to her. When Marrick took his stance and lined up his first shot, Katelyn fell silent and watched him intent. She was careful to observe how his feet were positioned, the way his arms and shoulders bent as he pulled the string back, and the way he held both the bow and the arrow. It looked simple enough, but she doubted that was really the case.

The bowstring hummed as the Squire released, sending the deadly projectile sailing away toward the target. Kat shielded her eyes from the sun and squinted, searching when she heard the thud of it finding home. It had hit, but off to the side. Still, it was impressive to one such as herself who'd never shot a bow before. The redhead spun on Marrick with an excited smile, beaming at the success of his first shot.

"But you still hit it!" she exclaimed happily, undeterred by his the apparent inaccuracy. "I don't see how that doesn't make you a good shot. It sets you apart from people like me, at least. I probably couldn't hit a house five yards in front of me," she joked, but quickly sobered when the subject turned back to the last time they'd been in each other's company.

Katelyn's eyes flicked back to his arm before he procured several different arrows. For some reason the sight of the deadly arrowheads made her stomach churn. Possibly because of the subject matter. She wondered which one Marrick had been shot with that day, but he quickly pointed it out and answered her unspoken question. She looked at the long pointed tip when he handed her the arrow and her lips puckered slightly in uneasy distaste. It had to have been horrible. The arrowhead was cruel and sharp, clearly made for puncturing.

The next one he gave her in exchange for the first was one she was familiar with. He was correct in assuming she'd seen it before. It was one of the most common kinds around the Outpost. Everyone used them for large game, but she'd never pictured them punching through leather armor. She could see how they could be effective against lightly defended enemies. Kat was afraid she'd never look at her brothers' arrows the same again.

The blunted arrows were also familiar. Pretty harmless compared to their cousins. She turned it over in her hands and smiled slightly at a memory that surfaced from the sight of it.

"One of my brothers tried to shoot me with an arrow like this when I was little. It was Harris. Luckily back then his aim was shyke. Still, our mother tanned him for it. He couldn't sit right for days," Katelyn reminisced before returning Marrick's projectile to him.

He handed her the fourth and final for examination, and her smile turned into a puzzled frown as she looked at it. The dark haired Squire looked more than a little excited about it, and couldn't seem to hardly contain himself as he explained what it was.

"It screams?" she asked in curious awe, turning her gaze back to the strange arrow with new-found interest before finally returning it to him.

Katelyn watched with another growing smile as he retrieved his bow and knocked the mysterious arrow to the string. As he released and the bow twanged, the wail the mysterious projectile produced was horrid. It screamed toward the target and was silenced by the ground as it missed by a few short feet, then rolled innocently to a stop in the dirt. Kat looked around at the various expression on the faces around them. Amusement, annoyance, curiosity, surprise. She blushed and grinned in embarrassment at the attention, turning back to Marrick.

The look he had was the best of them all. Kat didn't think she'd ever met anyone who could look so innocently sweet and yet mischievously evil all at the same time. The redhead found herself giggling like a girl as the Squire tried not to laugh--something she hadn't done in a while. It felt a little silly, but she couldn't help it. It bubbled out of her on its own accord, uncontrollable and light like a bell. Very out of place coming from such a hardy young woman. It made her look and sound several years younger.

A little too late Kat slapped a surprised hand over her mouth, cutting the mirthful sound short. Her eyes widened a moment and her face flushed.

"Don't let my brothers know I giggle," she mumbled almost incomprehensibly through her hand, and after a long moment of embarrassed dread, removed her fingers.

Katelyn released a gusty sigh and smiled almost shyly then, giving a little shake of the head.

"Can't let them know I can be girly, right?" she joked, trying to lighten her ghastly embarrassment as she plucked the bowstring from his calloused fingers.

She went right into trying to string the limbs, determined to forget her little slip up. Kat mimicked what she had seen Marrick do before. Bow between the legs and around the back, she tried to bend and loop the gut into place between the two long limbs. She strained for a moment, fingers fumbling as she tried to get the balance properly, before her hand slipped at the bow straightened back out with a powerful little snap.

She snatched it up before it could fall from her grasp and clatter to the dirt, and glanced at Marrick with a small grin on her face.

"Little help?"

[Marrick Corvis]

As she took the bow string from his hand, he couldn’t help but smile at her earlier comment. Marrick couldn’t deny that he liked the idea of being a knight. The concept excited him. He had never earned a wage before, and it was an incredible possibility. “Thank yeh. Oi admit that Oi’d love teh become a knoight one day. Yeh wouldn’ be such a bad knoight yerself.” His little smile grew a little as he stepped forward to help her with stringing her bow. He rounded behind her and grabbed her hand gently. The Kelvic guided her fingers to the place on the bow that would give her the most flex and tightened them around the shaft with a tender rolling squeeze. “Wrap your hands around it here. Ye’ll get the most flex outa the bow on this end when yeh bring the string up inta the loop.” With Katelyn’s hand firmly grasped in the right place he knelt down and repositioned the grip of the bow on the back her thigh. “Lean the grip against the back’a yer thigh, and the whole thing will flex against yer frame. Be sure yeh keep yer footin steady, or yeh moight sweep yerself ass over teet.” He smiled in rosy memories of humiliating mistakes he’d made in frustration when trying to string his bow. “Oi know from personal experience.” His comment was followed by a soft and low chuckle, almost like the burble of a cooking pot. Marrick stood, and rounded her again. He positioned himself so they were face to face, a pace or two away from one another, and he watched her string her bow. “N’ don’t worry. Yer brothers wouldn’t hear it from me that somewhere inside the mud lovin Tomboy, lives the beatin heart of a lady.” Marrick grinned broadly, took a deep breath, and closed his eyes a moment as he envisioned Katelyn wearing a dress. The thought made him chuckle darkly, but the fantasy faded like mist in the wind the moment he opened them. “Besoides, Oi think Oi’d loike teh keep this secret fer meh’self. Oi’ can be selfish that way sometoimes.” Marrick smiled at her when at last she struggled the bow string into place. “Mezeen.” He said in his best imitation of Shiber that he could manage before he stepped forward. “So we’ll be usin target arrows fer practice. The ones they use here at the Anthonius are a bit loike a broadhead.” He gathered a bundle of arrows from a stack near the weapon rack and placed them into a loop for them at the firing line for their target. “Come join me, here at the loine, we’ll work on yer stance.” As she made her way to the line Marrick spent the time untying the bundle so that the fletchings hung loosely in their holder for easy drawing. He pulled an arrow for himself notched it, and laid his right foot back nearly perpendicular to his left which cocked slightly forward in a near T shape in the ground. He dug his left foot into the ground with a couple kicks before he felt comfortable and he flexed his legs around to make sure he felt the position was right. “Oi’m a bit surprised that yer brothers haven’t taught yeh a bit more about this. Bein so obsessed as they are with huntin.” Without watching her he notched the arrow he’d taken, drew it back, adjusted his angle and aim, and loosed. The shaft glided swiftly to the nearest target and slid eagerly into the outer ring with a “Thwap” sound. “Roight, then, go ahead and step int’a the foot prints oi made. Yer stance should feel stable, naught over extended. Naught too toight eoither.” The Kelvic watched thoughtfully as Katelyn stepped up to the line and took up his stance. He eyed her footing a moment, and made a couple little adjustments to where her leading boot was, and what angle it was at, but apart from that she looked ready to shoot. “Any questions before we carry on?”

[/quote]

[Katelyn Marks]

Katelyn had to chuckle at the thought of herself being a Knight. She just couldn't picture it. When she did, the mental picture of riding a massive warhorse in shining armor made her snort humorously, and she shook her red head at her friend.

"I'll leave that to you, I think," she replied with poorly suppressed mirth.

As he came around to help her with the bow, her laughter soon died on her lips and was replaced by an almost shy silence when his fingers touched hers and his face drew in close. A faint blush rose on her pale cheeks, and the redhead watched the squire out of the corner of eye while he helped her through the stringing.

He seemed to be taking no prisoners with his lighthearted teasing today, and the smile on his lips made her knees a little weak. It didn't help her with the bow at all, but after a few more fumbling moments and a hefty strain, the string found its place in the notches on either end of the bow. The limbs held their taught recurve now, ready for an arrow. She smiled at him, triumphant for a moment, though still pink in the cheeks.

Katelyn had to shake herself mentally and gather her thoughts as she followed obediently for the firing line. Her skin still tingled from his touch, and her heart sputtered from his easy flirting. She took a deep, silent breath and exhales through her nose, banishing the embarrassment. As he took his firing stance, Kate examined his footing closely while he spoke.

"We're all close, but I'm still a little sister. I think they just wanted to keep some hobbies for themselves. A manly sort of pride, maybe. They were always so protective, and just never liked the idea of me with weapons either," she speculated absently.

It was just a theory, but who knew? Her brothers were pretty private men. She had her hobbies, and they had theirs. Still, it would have been nice to learn. Archery was such a useful skill, and she'd always wanted to try hunting. Things just hadn't worked out that way. As Marrick drew back his string and aimed, Katelyn examined the way he stood, and where his arms were. He made it look easy, but she doubted it was that simple. After all, she'd needed help stringing the bow.

When the arrow was released, it arced away. As it met the target, Katelyn offered her friend a little round of applause and a smile.

"Nice one," she praise as she took up position when it was her turn.

She carefully placed her feet where Marrick's had been, but wiggled them a little closer when they felt too far apart. Then it felt too close, and she frowned and spread them further apart again. When he stepped in a made some small corrections, she was relieved. Their height and stance was different, so her feet wouldn't be quite the same as his. When they were squared away she found their position to be comfortable.

"I think I'll give it a go."

Katelyn drew one of their arrows and carefully nocked it to the string. The movement was slow and clumsy compared to the squire's, and when she held the bow up the end of the arrow wobbled and fell from its perch. Embarassed, she flushed and tried again. Once more she lifted the bow, and thankfully the arrow stayed. Next she drew back the string. Unfamiliar, untested muscles in her shoulders, arms, and back protested the further Kate pulled. She grimaced at the unpleasant sensation, and stopped as far as she felt she could pull it.

The fletching barely brushed her lips, but before her friend could say anything she released. The string hummed with her clumsy shot and the arrow wobbled in the air, arcing not nearly as gracefully as Marrick's had and falling several feet short of the target where it rolled to a stop in the dirt. Luckily she was wearing hard leather bracers, for if she hadn't her arm would have taken a good lashing from the string. It had struck her forearm firmly, but scraped uselessly across the hard hide. She lowered the bow and glanced at Marrick, cheeks red and lips pressed into a flat line.

[Marrick Corvis]

Marrick’s anticipation was palpable as he watched Katelyn draw her bow. The shaft rattled a little as she struggled to bring the fletching to her cheek. The arrow even fell off of her knuckle, before she recovered. The face she made spoke of discomfort, and the Kelvic realized that he may have given her a little much to bite off and chew with a longbow. When she got the bow string to her lips she let go, and the string made a loud clap against the Red haired girls arm brace. The noise made Marrick cringe as he remembered several occasions when he had more or less made his hand useless for half a day. When she glanced at him the Kelvic wore an amused Smirk, as he added up all the variables. He looked down range to where her arrow had fallen. His smirk blossomed to a broad grin as his head swiveled back toward Katelyn. “T’was a good first try. As with anythin, it takes practice. Oi’ know fer a fact that yeh weren’t born on the back of a harse Kat, but roight now yeh are a better roider than most Knoights Oi know.” Marrick scratched at the stubble that grew on his chin while he considered the situation. With a smile he slung his bow over his shoulder and stepped forward to try and help the fiery haired farm girl with a couple of fine points. “Draw another shaft n’ notch it.” He said with a little smile. He watched her progress with patient intent and laid a gentle palm on the back of her bow. “So when yeh draw yer arrow back hold the shaft in place with yer first finger, and then remove it when yer ready teh loose. That will help with the coordination of the arrow and will prevent yeh from droppin it. Oi’ve heard tell of alternatives teh this method, but this is the one Oi know.” With a hawkish gaze he watched as Katelyn followed his instructions. Once her arrow was readied he went ahead and unslung his bow and mirrored her notch. “If yah hold the bow a wee bit at an angle it rests easier on yer knuckle.” The Kelvic demonstrated with a low tilt of his bow when he notched his shaft. “Loike thus.” He said with a little smile when he turned his head toward her to see if she understood. “Now when yeh draw back, lay yer fingers on the draw string so that they give the shaft a little pocket teh rest in.” Again, he demonstrated with a gentle curl of his fingers he gripped the gut string where the shaft of his arrow rested and made a little pocket between his fore and middle fingers. “If yer two fingers don’t have the strength teh hold the string, use yer third finger as well fer additional support.” He watched with a quiet little smile as the Red haired farm girl followed his lead. When it looked about right he wrapped his hand around hers and gently squeezed against it till she flexed back. “Hard, jest loike that. Hold yer arrow by its tail.” Marrick’s smile broadened into a grin with each step of Kat’s progress. For some silly reason he felt a measure of pride. “Feel how stable that is.” He said at last stepping away with a smile. “Good. Hows it feel when yeh pull back a bit on it? A wee bit better?” Marrick nodded as his smile faded to a smirk. “Now try again. Draw, n loose.” With a focused silence he watched Katelyn as she drew back her arrow again. His keen eyes watchful. “That’s it. Draw the fletching teh yer cheek n’ aim down the shaft. Aim fer yer nearest target down range.” The Kelvic paused with baited breath. “N’loose.” His last words breathed out like a prayer.