Closed Notes of Archery

Epifanio trains in archery

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This northernmost city is the home of Morwen, The Goddess of Winter, and her followers who dwell year round in a land of frozen wonder. [Lore]

Notes of Archery

Postby Epifanio Snowsong on June 2nd, 2016, 6:50 pm

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Epifanio Snowsong: 6th of Summer 516 A.V.

“Show me your heart, Epi.” Maenes Frostfawn said. She was a particularly harsh individual when it came to training. Epifanio originally looked to go into the archery range to just shoot at some targets from boredom. However, when his eyes wandered about he caught the beautiful glimpses of Maenes of the Frostfawn hold. He had heard stories of her long travels and how she left the city at the age of 17 to study archery. Epifanio bit off more than he could chew when he approached her and began his usual antics of trying to impress the beautiful woman. His Gamba was with him like usual and he strummed it out to her. In a very tantalizing voice “You are motivated by music right?” She asked him with a devilish smile just barely showing her teeth.

Epifanio didn’t like the look she had given him and responded in a shy manner at first and then “I have a challenge for you, and if you win you can take me out for a dinner.” She had said. Epifanio was genuinely excited and enjoyed challenges all of the same, but he still did not like the harsh looks that she was giving the bard. “First go out to those targets and mark a note for each string on your… instrument here. I will strum a chord for you to strike with arrow, and if you miss you have run around the outer parts of the range and then try to hit again. If you miss again you lose.” Her devilish smile surely was for something that almost seemed like bardic cruelty. Nevertheless, motivated by music and the potential to take out Maenes, Epifanio agreed to her terms.

After the notes had been marked on seven different targets, Epifanio returned and handed her his prized Gamba. “Just don’t strum the chords like you would pull the line of a bow please. It is a delicate instrument.” He smiled towards her cautiously. She responded in the form of a nod and asked if he was ready.

Positioning himself behind the wooden logs and knocking his first arrow he shared a glance with her and nodded. The first note was strum and his palms were sweaty. Taking aim he drew back the arrow to full draw, pulling the string clear back to his right ear.

Whoosh!

The arrow was let loose and missed the target just barely, and a yell from Maenes was heard and shocked him making him jump. “Hurry up you have 5 chimes to run around and hit the target once more!” Epifanio let his bow drop to the ground and took off. He started off in a sprint but quickly grew tired. Making it halfway to the outer section of the range he soon started to go into a running pace and then on the way back turned into a shuffle. Three chimes had passed and he made it back to his bow. He was heaving and breathing fairly hard from the crisp cold air hitting his lungs. Hands on knees he tried to gain his composure. “one chime left, you’ll never get to dine with me at this pace.” The evil Maenes let out another devilish grin. Epifanio quickly got up and picked up his bow, carefully docking another arrow and shaking somewhat. Pulling back in another full draw he took his aim for the same musical note that she had strum and let the arrow loose. HIT. He hit the target. Letting out a sigh of relief it wasn’t long before the next chord was strummed. This target was much further than his last and knocking another arrow he took aim, taking his time to line up his sight still shaking a bit.

He knew the musical note and knew how far it was, letting the arrow loose, with a great arch it managed to just barely hit the target. “Your aim is pathetic! Remember to hold your breath as you let your arrow loose, don’t knock the arrow and let it hold there. Take aim first then draw back and let loose. You will just lose your energy if you hold it there!” Another musical note was strummed and this time the target was the closest of the few. He easily hit that target, but then the same note was hit again. Another easy hit. And then in quick succession the same note was strummed. This time his arrow missed and he immediately took off into a run. This time he decided to try and pace himself, but as he returned to his bow he heard the frantic sound of “half a chime.”

Quickly knocking his arrow and taking aim he drew back the arrow to half draw from his expended energy and hit the target, but the arrow didn’t stick. “If you do that again, it doesn’t count! I will let you slide. Go drink some water.”

Epifanio relished in the ability to have a break and went over to his dropped pack and pulled out his waterskin to take a drink. It wasn’t soon after he took a couple gulps that he heard the strum of another musical chord.


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Notes of Archery

Postby Micah Frostfawn on June 4th, 2016, 12:46 pm

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It was one of Micah’s rare days off of work. The Frostfawn Hold, what with all the animals that resided there, kept her busy most days. But if she were brutally honest with herself, Micah preferred the hectic schedule of her work life rather than the casual boredom of her days off. Not only that, but she found herself fretting about her four-legged patients, despite knowing full well that Lusina would be taking great care of them on her behalf. Nevertheless, Micah needed to keep herself busy to refrain her worrying.

Training was a good distraction; it not only kept her mind and hands busy, but Micah was pleased knowing that she was bettering herself as well. The Archery Range was unexpectedly quiet, with only one other student letting fly another arrow at the far side of the building. Maenes Frostfawn stood to the other side, holding a bizarre instrument that Micah did not immediately recognise. Had the archery teacher taken up the stringed instrument in a bid to fill these quiet bells in the Range? Micah frowned. No; the way that Maenes held the instrument seemed a little unnatural, uncomfortable, as if she was unused to handling it.

The young female shrugged her shoulders, partly in a gesture of confusion over her fellow Frostfawn’s newly acquired possession, but also to knock her shortbow and quiver off her back into the crook of her arm. Choosing the target next to that which Maenes stood at, Micah took up position.

Standing with her feet perpendicular to the target, Micah twisted around and notched an arrow to her bow. The bow and arrow was then raised, a deep breath inhaled, and the arrow let loose.

It thundered into the outermost black ring of her target. Micah winced; though her performance was better than missing the target, she had not expected her arrow to land so off centre.

I need to work on my aim.

She notched another arrow, pulled the string backwards so it gently touched her right cheek, prepared to let it fly when-

-someone entered the lodge in a hurry, and Maenes said something hurriedly to them. Distracted, Micah relaxed her bowstring and twisted back towards the archery teacher. She was now accompanied by a rather exhausted looking male, whose flushed cheeks made Micah presume he had been doing some laborious activity outside. Another frown flickered onto her brow, and red eyes watched as Maenes plucked a note out of the musical instrument in her hands.

They’re playing a game. She realised after a tick. Micah smiled; creativity in learning was something she could easily appreciate, and though she could not join in on their training activity, the veterinarian decided she would make her own game off the back of theirs.
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Notes of Archery

Postby Epifanio Snowsong on June 4th, 2016, 6:24 pm

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Slipping on Ice



Upon returning to the comforts of the indoor range Epifanio noticed someone else taking practice at archery all in the same, but before he could let his guard down another musical note was heard after taking a couple gulps of water. He swallowed the best he could under his stressed breath and headed back to his bow. Picking it up he knocked an arrow and shot. It was just as bad as the new arrivals shot and although he was panting and shaking, adrenaline was coursing through his veins. Immediately after taking the shot the bard put his hands on his knees and began to heave a bit from his labored breath. Maenes’ eyebrows went into disgust and she yelled at the poor soul “Great, you can’t be getting sick now, we barely started. I tell you what, now you must sing while running and shooting. I want to hear that voice of yours constantly! Also, you must now run with your bow. A great archer always takes their weapon.”

Epifanio was surprised by the new additions to the game. “You can’t just add rules to the game!” He whined. Maenes responded by strumming two chords at the same time and said “You weren’t singing!” Epifanio looked at the necessary targets and they were a great distance away from each other. He readied his first arrow and fired towards the target, missing entirely. The bard sounded off in a song of curses and hateful words towards himself.

“I may as well be Tikita…” He took off into a jog once again. His breath fully labored and his bow grasped into his hand. As he exited the range to run around the length of the building he continued to sing trying to make it so those inside could hear him. “I am no petching cheetah… just a bard learning now of bow, oh how now did such a man get caught into this anyhowwwww.” As the last syllables of song escaped his mouth Epifanio slipped on a patch of ice and went into the splits. He nearly made it back inside, but now the pain washed through his entire body sending him into a concerto of weightless music. Walking the rest of the way he made himself inside where Maenes immediately said “less than 1 chime.”

Standing at the door the bard took aim with bow in hand and let an arrow fly loose immediately. His previous pain made him pull back the bow with more strength and anger than he had thought he could muster, and the arrow flew to his target, barely hitting it next to the floor. Regardless taking more steps forward in a quickened pace to the log boundary the bard once again knocked an arrow and sung a bit more before letting his arrow fly out. “Rhaus guide my arrow so true, if only you knew of … “ His breath still labored and in breathing his voice went up and down in picture as he let the arrow fly towards his next target. It hit, and then the bard excitedly yelled out in song once again. “Oh thank you, WaHOO.”

Maenes looked at him with a smile on his face. “That is it, that is the heart I was looking for. Might you muster more?” She asked him devilishly. He looked back to Maenes with wide eyes and shook his head no in response. “Let me… hheeh ugh, catch my … breath. I did the splits out there.” In a case of dramatic acting he finally felt the pain and fell to the ground holding his man parts. As he laid on the ground another musical note was sounded. He let out another sigh and staying on the ground rolled over to his back and sighted his target, drawing bow back and shot through to his target. Amazingly it hit, as it was the closest target, but regardless Epifanio knew he couldn’t take much more running. Maenes clapped her hands together and applauded his strange hit “You do deserve a small break, I suppose.” Epifanio laying on the ground let go of his bow letting it rest on his stomach and started to cup himself once again from the pain. He had nearly forgot of the newcomer and with eyes growing wide he looked towards her in embarrassment.





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Notes of Archery

Postby Micah Frostfawn on June 19th, 2016, 9:59 am

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After watching the pair for a moment, Micah understood the rules of the game: Maenes would string out a note on the instrument, and her student was required to shoot an arrow into the target area that was relative to that note. She guessed that his failure to hit the target resulted in his having to run around the outside of the shooting range under the pressure of time and Maenes’ critical gaze.

It was easy for Micah to turn this into a game -- a competition, even. Hunting was, after all, about performing well under the pressure of time. Micah had been out on hunts before where bells had passed with no sight of any prey, only for a host of animals to suddenly appear in less than five chimes. It wasn’t always possible to have a long time to notch and shoot an arrow before one’s selected prey ran or flew away. In such cases, it was important to be efficient and quick, letting arrows fly as fast as possible to increase your chances of a kill.

She watched the male shoot another arrow, missing his target and setting off on another run. As soon as his form left the interior of the shooting range, she twisting quickly around to her own target. Now her game could begin; she would try and shoot as many arrows as possible in the time it took for the male to make his way around the building.

Micah notched her first arrow, her fingers clumsy with her speed. The bowstring was yanked backwards, her position modified slightly by a shifting of her feet, and then finally the arrow was let loose. It missed the target, landing instead beyond the circular bull’s-eye and disappearing into the far end of the room. But even before she watched her failed shot, Micah was reaching upwards into the quiver on her back, retrieving her second arrow and notching it. Her movements would have been efficient and smooth had they not been so bumbling and clumsy. More than once she nearly dropped her arrow, but eventually it was notched, pulled back, and released.

The second arrow landed on the target, once again on the thick black outer rim of the circular target. Had the bull’s-eye been a deer, the arrow would have most likely landed on it’s flank or leg: hardly a clean kill. Micah grimaced. Hunting was a necessity of life, but she wanted to cause as minimal pain as possible to her prey. A shot to the neck was the best way to ensure a quick and as painless a death as she could hope, especially with a large animal such as deer. A shot to the leg might not kill such a beast immediately, but instead result in infection, a slow and agonising death indeed.

Her next shot needed to be more central; she imagined the centre of the bull’s-eye to the deer’s heart, or neck. Another arrow was notched with the same frantic speed as before. Micah altered herself slightly, taking note that her previous two arrows had landed to the left of the target, and thus twisting herself to the right minutely. This time her arrow landed more central, though still a good few inches from the very centre of the target. Still, an improvement.

A fourth and fifth arrow were notched and let loose in quick succession, both landing close to her last arrow. Micah was preparing a sixth arrow when the male returned, resulting in her lowering her bow and arrow with a grateful sigh. Her shoulders and arms ached deeply, causing the Vantha to wince as she rolled her shoulders to try and loosen up her muscles.

There might be no rest for the wicked, but Micah decided she deserved at least a temporary pause in her exercise. She sipped at her water skin and glanced around her, watching the single other archer training at the furthest side of the room. Twisting back round, she faced the male who she had been using as a stop-watch. “You’ve got quite a creative way to train.” She mused to him, raising a hand to wipe away the thin film of sweat that had gathered at her hairline. “Though it was quite helpful for me, too. If you need a partner, or competitor, for your game I’d be happy to help.”
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Notes of Archery

Postby Epifanio Snowsong on June 22nd, 2016, 3:03 am

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Epifanio got up from the floor, recovering himself and taking a deep breath. Maenes was quick to observe the capabilities of the new addition to the range, and allowed the bard to converse during his break. “Are you here for practice as well?” He asked the newcomer. He hadn’t remembered seeing the person around before, and it was a welcomed sight to observe other than that evil vantha dressed in black. He couldn’t help but to feel tricked after feeling that incomparable groin pain. It was as if Morwen herself jested towards the charming man.

Flicking his hair out of his face as she said the word competitor, the bard’s eyes got wide. He surely couldn’t use more competition. What Maenes had devised was hard enough, but it was too late. The vantha dressed in black was quick to nail an arrow straight through his hopes. “Yes, a likely addition to the challenge! You must now beat this girl if you have hopes to take me out.” Maenes smirked with an evil smile.

Letting out a sigh and throwing a tantrum in his own way. “What if she doesn’t know of which target to hit?” he said. Maenes raised a brow at him of disapproval. Just then he had shown his heart, but after getting a metaphorical arrow shot straight through it, he just couldn’t find that passion anymore. He didn’t even want to take the beautiful woman out anymore. Though, this new woman… maybe he might be able to weasel out something. Despite his lost heart he would not put up an easy fight.

“Easy enough. She must shoot the target you shoot at. If it hits then your arrow doesn’t count, and you have to try to shoot at it once more to cancel it out. This will continue on till one of you miss. If you both miss then you lose, Epifanio.” She said.

Epifanio looked over towards the newcomer with eyes wide. His fate of potentially winning this game relied on her abilities to shoot, not just his own. “Alright, but what happens if when we go back and forth.” He asked simply. “Well that is why I have your instrument here. You don’t think it would be that easy, would it? Oh and each time a new note is strung you both have to run out and make it back together before you shoot the new target.”

Epifanio’s jaws dropped. She looked much nimbler than him, and possibly would leave him in the dust. “What is in it for the newcomer then?” He asked giving her a stern look. Maenes also looked towards her as if expecting a condition to be applied to the terms of the game.
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