One Last Thing

[Azmere]

90th of Fall, 515 AV

Azmere had spent the last week making arrows and then remaking them until each and every one passed Caloke’s rigorous inspections. Ercere made a point this morning that “You can look til your eyes fall out. You won’t know if they’re any good if ya don’t use ‘em.” This set off a whirlwind of raised voices and emphatic hand gestures. Thus, Azmere found himself out back with several quivers full of fresh arrows and a cheap long bow. Ercere said Azmere’s bow was a bit too custom to make
for a good test and Caloke agreed.

Azmere had divided the arrows amongst several quivers by order and then type. This way he could manage each stock accordingly and make necessary changes without having to testfire every single arrow. The first batch was a bundle of fifteen game arrows with particularly short shafts. He had been told that they were for a young lad. Azmere grabbed an arrow and notched it. He drew back but then realized he was making an ‘adult’ pull so he allowed the string to go slack an inch and lined up his shot. The target was a burlap bag stuffed with straw and propped up against a tall fence post. Azmere had taken a few pieces of charred logs and drawn the crude outline of a glassbeak on the rough surface.

The wind blew past his face but it was not so strong as to affect the shot. Azmere took a breath and double-checked his line. Confident that he would strike true, he exhaled slowly and as the last bit of breath passed his lips Azmere’s fingers relaxed and loosed the arrow. The projectile sliced through the air and left a light whistle as it went. Azmere watched it carefully noting a slight spin which was good but he also noted an uneven float to shaft. The notch seemed to sag below the tip. It was highly irregular for an arrow to behave this way during flight. Azmere saw the arrow make contact with the bag and sink in until the tip hit the post. The normal thunk was muffled. Azmere drew another arrow from the same batch and eyed the fletching. He hadn't thought of it at the time but a shorter arrow should probably have shorter fletchings as well.

Azmere set down the bow and examined the feathers carefully. He remembered the shafts being a tenth shorter than the normal ones. He made a fairly accurate guess at what a tenth of the feather would be and pinched it off and tossed it to the ground. He then did the same for the other two. He lifted it up and closed his left eye to get a singular perspective. Once he decided that each was about the same in their new length, Azmere decided it was time to try again.

Word Count476

[Azmere]

The archer lifted the bow and notched the modified arrow. He took aim once more at the sketched glassbeak sack. The arrow felt different but that was probably just his knowledge of the adjustment lending itself to his perceptions. He took a deep breath and as before, he exhaled with the last part acting as a release for his fingers. The arrow took off and sliced through the air with a much more graceful path. Straight. True. The arrow sunk into the head of the glassbeak drawing. Azmere smiled and set the bow against the quivers and went to retrieve his arrows.

He walked across the little patch of grass and was already thinking of heavy broad heads which will need larger feathers or heavier. Maybe he could find some turkey feathers inside to double line the fletches. Azmere shook his head. Back to the task at hand. He scolded himself. He wrapped his left hand around both shafts and yanked them free of the straw-filled target. He then turned on a booted heel and walked towards his little makeshift station.

Azmere lifted a large whet stone and used quick pushing strokes to refine the edges of the arrowheads. The post and straw did very little to affect the edge he had previously worked but Azmere found himself a perfectionist when it came to signing his name on a craft. He stopped to check his work and then gave one a few more strokes. He ran his thumb across the tips to be certain and then placed the arrows in the quiver with the other thirteen. The first order was done and verified. He took the whole quiver and set it aside.

Azmere turned his focus to the broad heads which he had heard Ercere discussing the impact a few extra mizas worth of iron would have on tougher game like spearbacks. Azmere picked one up and notched it into the long bow. He took aim and fired to find his suspicions were correct. The tips were too heavy and weighed the arrow down drastically reducing its effective range. The target was only seven yards away. Would it have been another five or so, the arrow would’ve missed completely. Azmere retrieved another of the unbalanced arrows and debated what the best course of action would be.

Word Count386

[Azmere]

After a chime or two, Azmere scooped up the bag of unused feathers he had attached to his belt. He leaned his bottom against the log and focused into the work. At first he was just sorting for the right feathers and then he found some short, grey turkey down. He pinched and smoothed out three identical pieces then went about nestling them under the existing, white fletching. This took longer than removing a piece or two. In fact, it was Azmere’s least favorite part of the job but still…it was a job. After fighting with the last little feather, he finally got it to stick. Azmere grabbed the arrow by the tip and whipped it around in the air like a sword three times and then once more for good measure. He was testing the moorings of his addition and was rightfully satisfied. He flipped the arrow into the air and caught it by the shaft. He notched it into the string of the long bow and prepared his line of sight.

He aimed for the neck once more and took a deep breath. As was his custom, he let the air slowly pass from his lungs and between his lips. This was a technique that had been shown to him by Asmodeus, his grandfather and Ankal. He had been told that his bloodline had always practiced the art of calm shooting. There was always the story of the rushed shot that missed the meal or the could have story about a missed trophy. The worst was the silence of the story never told how, in a hurry, one failed to protect a loved one. Exhale. Release. Away the heavy arrow flew with its contrasting fletchings and in the creator’s eyes; it was lovely. The line was true, the flight was straight and the arrow sunk deep without effort into the cheap target. Azmere even noticed the post react with a shiver as it was struck. While he was happy that the arrow was solid, he was not looking forward to fixing the other twenty-nine.

Word Count346

[Azmere]

Azmere went and grabbed both of the arrows and hustled back to his area of operation. He dug through the bag of feathers and sorted out all of the turkey down. That in itself seemed to take forever but he was finally certain that he had enough to fix the rest of the bunch. One by one, Azmere went through painfully tedious process after boring repetition until he had secured every last bit of down into the fletchings of all thirty arrows. He had to admit that the contrast between the two types of feathers was very catching to the eye. He was about to set the order aside but quickly remembered that two might need re-sharpened. Once again, he spread the whole order of thirty out before him. Using the tip of his left index finger, he went down the line one at a time to test the edge on each arrow head. He found one that needed touched up a bit. This must’ve been the one that made the fence post rock. Azmere chuckled to himself and gathered up the other twenty-nine and set them back into the quiver Erere had designated for them.

Azmere took the imperfect arrow into the large tent where the grinding wheel was resting. He sat on the little bench and set his feet on the pedals and began to pump his legs. This made the wheel turn on its smooth bearing which gave off a slight whirring sound. Azmere gently laid the broad head against the moving stone. The grinding noise was faint, much fainter than when Ercere used the tool. This was because Azmere was just touching up the broad head. A push here, a slide there and the constant rechecking all became part of the process. After several attempts to refine the lethal edge, Azmere was finally satisfied. He smiled and walked back outside and set the arrow into the quiver with the rest of its kind. This quiver was then set over by the short arrows for the young boy. Azmere’s ‘Done’ pile was growing and he very pleased that things had gone smoothly thus far. However, it was time to stop for a bite to eat. He looked around to make sure everything was in order and also so he could recall the sight to make sure nothing was missing once he returned.

Word Count395

[Azmere]

After lunch, Azmere came back out and scanned everything. Nothing seemed to be out of place so he went right to it. He stepped up to his firing line and lifted his bow. He drew an arrow from one of the three remaining quivers. Each was an order of twenty-five with two having game tips and the other having broad heads. This happened to be one of the game arrows. Azmere notched it into the string and then lifted the tip to line up with the target. He inhaled, paused then exhaled. The arrow flew through the air with a good amount of speed and a nice, slight rotation. It struck the target right in the body of the glassbeak. Azmere smiled. It was nice to succeed on the first try. He lowered the bow and set it against another of the quivers. He jogged across the way and snatched the arrow from the target. He then jogged back, filed the tip back to a fine point with his whet stone. He then went through the rest of the order to double check fletching and tips as well as overall construction. The rigors of his inspection were complete and he set that order aside as well.

Azmere then repeated the entire process for the next order. He fired two test shots then sharpened those arrow heads once more. He made some minor adjustments to a few of the feathers and double checked every single arrow before setting them back into their respective quiver. This, too, was set with the ‘Done’ pile and out of the way. Azmere only had one more order to test and inspect. He was a bit tired of the whole thing and rather than take a break, he decided it would be much more worthwhile to test all of the arrows instead.

He set himself up with the quiver and turned his back to the target. He had a unique game of ‘blind shooting’ that he and his step-brother used to play as kids. Azmere was always better because he knew the breathing trick. He inhaled, drew an arrow, notched it and then turned his body without moving his feet. As soon as he was rotating his hips, he began to exhale so when he had reached a full pull and lined his shot [which at this point in his life, coincided] he just released the arrow. He did this over and over again until all twenty-five had been fired. Twelve hit the glassbeak drawing. Eleven more hit the sack and the remaining two sailed clean past entirely. Azmere was a little winded as that kind of twisting and bending without moving your feet can be taxing but he was happy. He retrieved all of the arrows and then re-sharpened them.

Today was a good day. Azmere took all of his order inside and handed them over to Ercere. The man asked after how the test had gone and Azmere used Pavi sign to relay the information. He was one his way out the door when Ercere stopped him. “I tinkered with your bow…hope ya don’t mind.”

Word Count521, 2124 Total

[Tribal]

G R A D E S

Azmere

Experience

• Bowing/Fletching: 4
• Weaponsmithing: 2
• Organisation: 2
• Drawing: 1
• Weapon, Longbow: 4
• Observation: 3
• Meditation: 1

Lore

• Different arrow types
• Azmere: Finding motivation
• Shaping arrowheads on the whetstone
• Organisation: Sorting by colour and size
• Azmere: Testing ones work for quality
• Bow: Calm shooting, relaxed stance
• Bow: Blind shooting

Notes

Your character is a competent shot; make sure you play to his strengths as blind shooting seems more of an expert level thing. Time to hand out some wages I think! Enjoy the rewards.