Shooting Contest
Dunduriel the Sildanyar bowyer is holding a contest! He's so focused on archery that he assumes only archers would enter a contest to shoot targets at range, with the prize being fame and glory! And a selection of bread and ale for participants who peruse his stocks.
And that's the layout: to the north in the wide field is a row of stalls where bread, ale, bows, arrows, quivers, and the like are being offered. The former two free, the rest for sale. On the right, is a row of stalls with archery targets 100 feet behind. "Enter the contest, prove you're the best!"
Merek has on his black longcoat about his attire, while he makes his way to the content, he waves to the others while he seems to think a moment also. "Can we use the firearms?" he asks curiously, while he offers a smile as well.
A slender, cloaked figure weaves through the various people; hood pulled down low to obscure the facial features of th individual in question. It's hard to tell just by looking if they're male or female, but it's clear from the leather armor and the forest-colored cloak that they're used to the more uninhabited regions. The ensemble is completed by a bow strung across the back and a quiver of arrows oddly attached to the hip rather than over a shoulder. There's a pause by the food and drink offered, then a subtle shake of the head before heading to the area where others with their various weapons are gathering.
The tall, skinny Sildanyar blinks. "Firearms? Well if you think such a thing can match my fine longbows, you go right ahead." Dunduriel says with a haughty fold of his arms. He then runs off shouting "No, wait, what," as off on the other side of the grounds, a young half-elf in red has apparently managed to set one of the stalls on fire with her own non-archery attempt at shooting a target.
Merek nods a it, while he lifts up his longarm, taking a moment to check it, then he takes a moment to settle into a place, while he waits about, looking then to the others.
The hooded figure stands beside Merek; quite by coincidence. The fire draws attention, and in this attention someone bumps into them, pushing them into Merek. "HEY! Watch where you're going!" She - the voice identifies her as a woman at least as she yells at the person that bumped her into Merek and fails to apologize to Merek.
Dunduriel has to take a moment putting OUT the fire caused by a very bad miss. Tugging her backpack straps, the firebug sighs, takes some of the offered food, and wanders off. So now a much more harried Dunduriel returns toward where Rhyn and Merek are. "So, firearms, you may take 3 shots at will. and you," he says to Rhyn, "Test your skill?"
GAME: Merek rolls ranged: (9)+7: 16
Merek nods a bit, while he lifts up his firearm, then he takes a shot with the weapon, while he checks the weapon then begins to load another while he looks to the Second Ring which he strikes also.
GAME: Rhyn rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30 GAME: Rhyn rolls 1d20+10: (14)+10: 24
In response to the question of if she is here to show off her skill the cloaked woman pulls her bow off of her shoulder. In an instant there's an arrow nocked and pulled back. It flies across the space between her and the target; burying itself in the bullseye deeply. With that done the woman pulls back her bow. The motion of her bow backwards tips her hood back and reveals a beautiful face surrounded by a spill of red hair that is worked backwards into a long braid. She grins at the man in charge of this little competition. "How's that?"
Dunduriel looks ratehr dejected when Merek's shot hits the distant target just off of the bullseye. "Well," he huffs. "You do get two more shots." Rhyn's shot however, with an actual bow, makes him giddy. "Spectacular!" He says, his long hair flowing behind him as he approaches. "Best shot of the day, and you get to keep going!"
GAME: Merek rolls ranged: (2)+7: 9 GAME: Rhyn rolls 1d20+10: (18)+10: 28
Merek takes another clean shot, though it doesn't actually strike the target. He then nods a bit, while he looks to Rhyn, then back to the man leading it, then he's back to watching.
The woman's grin fades instantly as she eyes Dunduriel squarely. Then she returns her attention to the targets. Another arrow is pulled from the quiver on her hip. Quick as lightning and this one lands close to the first. Not quite as good a hit, but a good shot none the less. She glances at Merek, and seems to notice him looking at her and she quickly pulls the hood of her cloak back up.
Dunduriel takes in the next shots, doing his best to stifle a reaction to the man with the firearm missing, followed by the woman with the bow nailing another solid shot. "Long range is difficult," he says with a chipper grin, to encourage both shooters. "One more shot, to see who's the best of the day so far."
GAME: Merek rolls ranged: (7)+7: 14
Merek lifts up with his firearm, then he takes a shot to the target, managing to get it at least. He then nods a bit to the two there a bit also.
GAME: Rhyn rolls 1d20+10: (20)+10: 30 GAME: Rhyn rolls 1d20+10: (1)+10: 11 (EPIC FAIL)
The woman nods, nocking another arrow quick as the first two times and takes quick aim. The arrow pulls back the hood of her cloak revealing her cheek briefly before it flies and hits dead center actually knocking off the feathers of her first shot. It doesn't bury as deeply into the target, but it didn't need to. Challengingly she stares down Dunduriel.
Dunduriel watches the last two shorts, and nods. Clapping his hands high, "Caerwen, bring meals for the contestants!" And a long-haired Sildanyar woman comes from across the way, bringing two bowls of bread, and two sloshing mugs, bringing one of each to Rhyn, and to Merek, with a bow to each. "These here are the best two competitors of the day! Your names, please?" Some of the passers by stop to gawk at the targets, and applaud at the spectacle. Especially for Rhyn's stunning performance.
"Merek," Merek offers, while he places his longarm back on his longcoat, nodding a bit to the two as well. "Seer of Eluna and Sorcerer," he say also.
The woman looks around and not-so-subtly pulls the hood of her cloak further forward before putting her bow away. "Rhyn Salvern. Thank you." She offers this last to the other sildanyari who gives her something to eat and drink. She takes the drink first, and once she has the food she takes a hefty swig of the ale. She glances at Merek, interested in the man who had been shooting beside her. "Where'd you learn to shoot, being of the sorcerous inclination?"
Across the way, the red dressed sorc starts to try another shot at the distant targets, but Dunduriel runs after her. "No, stop, haven't you done enough already? Take your food and move on. You had your chance. You failed. Buy a bow, woman. I have beginner's bows at a discount today." Caerwyn bows again to each. "Merek, Rhyn, I am glad to meet you both. You shot very well. I could never hit those, even with our best bows."
"I used to learn the ways of an artifice," Merek mentions then to Rhyn, he then bows to the man, while he shifts up, his eyes thoughtful, "I like firearms a lot," he says also.
Rhyn has the grace to look embarrassed by the complement, coughing quietly. "Thank you. I'm sure with a bit of practice you could manage it, but I can't say I'm that impressed with his wares." She smiles slightly as she looks at Merek. "You should try a bow, they're a lot more reliable than those devices."
Caerwyn bows again and rushes off to try to calm down poor Dunduriel, who just wanted an event without anything being set on fire. The crowds continue to mill by, a few shouting congratulations to Rhyn, and to Merek by name.
"I would, but I'm already taking a lot of my focus of learning to even know how to use firearms," Merek mentions, while he nods a bit to the two as well. "Anyway, it is nice to do a contest like this," he says.
"It was nice, and the rewards are worth the effort." Rhyn hefts the ale a little bit to make her point clear. Then she glances toward the people waving at them and her lips which are barely visible beneath her cowl turn into a mild frown. "Even if I could do without the notoriety; it's my own fault though."
-End