Solo [The Stained Pelt] Bows and Memories

[Rosela]

Timestamp: 4th of Fall The Stained Pelt..." she read aloud, looking closely at the paper in the dim pre-sunrise light. She’d seen the place on the city map, but had never been. Despite the fact that it dealt with furs, she didn’t really want to visit anyway. The brief description on the map had described it as selling ‘pelts.’ Gross. As she exited the city limits, bow in hand and quiver across her back, the knowledge of the impending citizenship tattoo loomed in her mind. She was not happy in the slightest that she'd have to mark her body just to be considered a citizen, but laws needed more than a pretty please to change. If she spent her time fighting the system, she'd be destitute before the season was out. Her employment prospect though, it had shocked her thoroughly. How had she never considered owning her own business? It seemed to be almost expected; her parents ran a very successful clothing line in Eyktol, so why shouldn't she do the same here? She barely noticed the long walk to her testing grounds, when her mind was buzzing with business ideas. Should she write her parents with the news? She hadn’t written yet, and hadn’t intended to. Her mother was no doubt a bit upset that Rosela had stolen some of her jewelry to buy passage to Riverfall, but it wasn’t like they couldn’t afford to buy more. What was she to call it? Boutique Rosela? The Tilted Tunic? She thought of several Arumenic names, all variations on already popular Eyktol brands, and she scrapped all of those. Common language would get her the most customers, so she’d best stick to it. She pulled the string to her bow reflexively. If she could just hurry though this, she could be back and writing up her business plan before lunch. Holding up the bow, she practiced aiming it with each of her hands. She nearly walked right by the shop, completely missing the hidden door and sign. From a distance, it had appeared to be little more than a hill, and she wouldn’t have given it a second glance if she hadn’t seen the bench out front. The place seemed to be going for the whole rustic theme, and the whole place had a very au naturale feel to it. Raw wood benches, unfinished stone walls, grass on the roof? How quaint.

[Rosela]

Pushing through the door, Rosela halted immediately and did her best not to gag. Various items hung from the ceiling, including tools, hunting paraphernalia, and animal skins. Ducking further down than strictly necessary, she crept along, careful not to touch anything. Every surface in the place seemed to have a fine patina of dirt, and the dawning rays of sun through the far window showed a fog of dust in the air. An Akalak stretched lazily behind the counter, and Rosela hurried over, looking ridiculously as though she were trying to creep up on him. He turned before she got there and jerked his head in surprise. “Ah, hello there. Can I help you?” Skipping the last few steps, she was grateful to see the area around the counter was clear of hanging things, and she straightened at last. “Yes, I’m here for a citizenship test? I was told to find…Arril?” Had Malin/Malix said Arril was a woman? Rosela wasn’t sure if she hoped so or not – she’d likely be nervous either way. Unfolding the paper, she looked at it quickly, then held it out for the man, displaying it with a pinch at each corner. “Oh good, testing for the shortbow, then? Arril’ll be my wife. She’s out there right now, on the archery range. Just head out that door,” he bent down slightly to indicate a side door. “And let her know you’re here for citizenship testing.” Thanking him, Rosela crept quickly to the door, keeping all arms and her bow close to her. Arril, presumably, had a fury of red hair and Rosela stepped out just in time to see her nail an arrow into the center of a distant target. Rosela blinked in surprise, nearly speechless, as Arril turned to face her. “Can I help you?” Arril spoke abruptly, though not unkindly. Swallowing, intimidated already, Rosela produced the authorization paper again, this time handing it over. “I’m-I’m here for my citizen test. In the shortbow.” She lamely indicated the bow in her hands. Arril’s was much more intricate and Rosela felt green with envy. Why couldn’t she have tried to dress up her bow a bit more? Paint it, tie ribbons to the end, something? “Good. The shortbow seems to get overlooked a lot in this town, since it takes less strength to draw, but it’s nice to see people testing for it. Well, what are you waiting for? Get over here and draw.”

[Rosela]

The woman was strong and blunt, and Rosela’s sensibilities chaffed irritably. Gritting her teeth, but saying nothing, Rosela lifted her bow and strode to the spot Arril had just stepped out of. Nerves leapt and popped in her stomach, made worse by Arril’s presence. She rolled her shoulders to alleviate the tension as she reached back for an arrow. This was just another test. She’d had them for years growing up. Granted, she had always been a terrible tester, but now that she was an adult, that had to change, right? Grown women weren’t supposed to have nerves because of a test. “Any day…” Arril sighed from behind her. Still gritting her teeth, Rosela nocked the arrow, lined up, and loosed it. The arrow missed ridiculously, and she was quite certain she’d be sick right then and there. “The citizenship test is just for the competency level-” Rosela had already nocked another arrow furiously, the image of the Grandmother burning in the front of her mind. The bow string twanged as she let go, and the ‘thunph’ of it hitting the straw target, in the middle target circle, was gratifying. Arril said nothing, but made a noise of surprise. Rosela didn’t turn to face her, but hoped she had wiped the sick pity out of the woman’s voice. Drawing again, Rosela fired, landing slightly closer to the center circle. Another arrow flew, landing in the same circle, but on the other side of the center. “Move one space down and try the longer target.” Arril’s voice contained no pity, but neither was it cruel. Still without looking at her, Rosela walked right five paces until she was lined up with the next target, significantly further down. In her mind, Rosela sneered at the red head, mocking her for doubting. She fetched the arrow, nocked, and released, feeling a remaining thud of anxiety in her stomach when it landed in the outermost ring of the target. With only a second’s hesitation, Rosela drew again, nostrils flaring unbecomingly in anger. This arrow was slightly closer, on the very edge of the middle circle. “Not bad,” Arril said, sounding mildly impressed. “We’re halfway there. A few spaces down, there’s a line of wooden targets. Those are next.” This time, she stepped around Rosela and led the way. Rosela seethed for a moment. This woman didn't know a thing about her, and had the nerve to doubt her on her very first try? Not everyone had such dull lives that they could spend all their free time on the archery range. Gripping her bow so hard it hurt, she followed the Grandmother down the line. Shaking her head in such surprise that she nearly stumbled, Rosela worked to correct her thoughts. This was Arril, not the Grandmother. The Grandmother was dead.

[Rosela]

Arril stopped in front of a line of painted wooden targets, circular boards nailed to planks, which were then attached to the back of a long wooden base. “On this one, you just have to knock down three of those five targets in seven arrows or less.” She gestured to the line, then folded her arms and leaned back, looking expectantly at Rosela. Rosela didn’t like how Arril was in front of her this time, and catching herself thinking of the Grandmother had unnerved her. Giving a dignified sniff, she drew the bow. Arril’s mass of red hair right in front of her was distracting, but she did her best to ignore it. This was just another test. Her first arrow clipped the target and bounced off, spinning. While she didn’t swear verbally, every Arumenic curse ran in litany in her head. Arril was silent. Taking a deep breath that came dangerously close to a growl, she held the air for a moment before letting it out slowly, along with the next arrow. There was a startling chime as the target was knocked down. In spite of herself, Rosela looked at Arril in joy. The woman nodded sagely and jerked her chin at the remaining targets. Excitement conquering her frustration, she steadily fired another arrow, knocking down the next target. Keeping a firm hold on her dignity, she kept her eyes on the remaining targets. Two arrows left, only one target to go. Her confidence betrayed her however, and the next arrow slipped away before she could aim properly. Arril shifted next to Rosela, but said nothing. Nocking the next arrow in a quick, angry motion, Rosela pursed her lips and glared at the arrowhead. She’d have made that shot if Arril weren’t so distracting. Who had hair like that anyway? Didn’t she know anything about subtlety? Working desperately to calm herself down, she shifted her focus continually between the line of the arrow and the distant target. She did not want to have to take this test again. She needed to pass this test, get that miserable tattoo, open her business, and start raking in the mizas. She’d get a bigger house, nicer clothes, a cabinet full of jewelry… Breathe in… She focused on the target. Breathe out… The arrow loosed. The chime still startled her as the target went down. Arril seemed pleased as she unfolded her arms and turned. “Good job. Last trial is this way.” Rosela nearly flung the bow in frustration. How had she forgotten there was still another trial? Head lolling on her neck, she trudged miserably after the expert archer.

[Rosela]

Every inch of Rosela wanted to just give up and go home as Arril stopped in front of the last trial. “Last trial, moving targets.” Arril said simply, looking down at the contraption at the far end. Two stuffed bags with targets sewn to their fronts were set up in a similar manner to the wooden disks of the previous one, but here there was a complicated pulley system rigged up to some sort of weighted wheel next to the archer’s position. With a powerful jerk, Arril pulled a lever away from the wheel and it lurched to life. As it started to spin slowly, wooden creaks and clunks echoed down at the targets’ base, and the stuffed targets began to slowly sway back and forth. “Five arrows, all you gotta do it hit one. Not even in the target circle.” Rosela caught herself biting the inside of her mouth and furiously clenched her jaw shut. She hadn’t done that since she was a child, when her nanny informed her that it made her look like she was constantly eating something, and who would want to play with a little piggie girl? Nose twitching at the unusually amplified hurt of the memory, she ran her tongue over her teeth and nocked a bow. She’d faced the moving target things before, but it had been admittedly a very long time. The first arrow loosed with a twang and missed, though not by much. It was hard to concentrate with the creaking and rumbling of the contraption, but at least it distracted her from Arril’s hair. She could do this. This sack of straw and dirt was the last thing standing in her way to riches. She watched the sway of the sacks and timed her arrow just before it was at the right spot. Missed. Released a moment too late. Heaving a sigh, she nocked another arrow. If firing when the sack was there was too late, then firing when it was there- Another miss, but just barely. It was a telling miss, and she knew exactly where to fire from now. Confidence returned and banished the hurt and anger. She nocked the next arrow confidently. She’d have it this time. Shop, mizas, jewelry. The arrow plunged into the sack, burrowing halfway in and sticking out awkwardly as the sack continued to move. “Ha!” Rosela shouted triumphantly, with a note of derision for the sack. Catching herself, she straightened immediately and clutched her bow to her side. Arril, who looked as though she were trying not to smile, heaved the lever upwards again, stopping the swaying with a thunk of wood on wood. “Very good, eh…” She checked the paper briefly. “Rosela. You are certified Competent.” Swiping a marker from her side pocket, she made a note on the authorization paper and handed it back. “Congratulations. Since there’s no one in at the moment, you can either go back and fetch your arrows or,” she held up her hands as though offering an innocent and reasonable suggestion. “You can save the work and buy some inside. If you want to use your old ones, be warned, they may be a bit damaged. Just saying.” Rosela narrowed her eyes at her, then looked sideways back at the empty range. As much as she didn’t want to part with her mizas, she really didn’t want to dirty her hands and break her nails digging out her old arrows. “Fine,” she heaved in defeat. It was nearly lunch time anyway. She needed a nap. “1 gold miza for 20 arrows.” Arril led the way back to the shop with a triumphant smile.

[Rosela]

The way home was longer than the way up. Hitching up her newly-stuffed quiver, she nocked imaginary arrows into her bow using her alternate hands. Imaginary creatures cowered from her in the grass. Despite her success, she felt like she should be happier. The trial had dredged up some of her uglier memories and she didn’t like it. They were all in the past, where they belonged. Any reminder of them was back in Ahnatep, except for one. Slowing her walk, she turned the bow over in her hands. It was plain – her own fault. When she had moved in with – out of her parents’ house, she hadn’t wanted to spend mizas on something so silly as a fancy bow. Now she kindof wished she had. It was something the Grandmother had teased her about - an average bow for an average wife. On pure impulse, she nocked an arrow, a real one this time, and stopped walking. She didn’t feel powerful holding it, or formidable, just tired. She aimed it at a clump of grass shivering in the breeze. “I’m pretty sure there aren’t any grass bears hiding in – Whoa!” In alarm, Rosela whipped around and aimed the bow at the intruding Akalak. One hand up in defense, his other went immediately for his lakan. Coming to her senses, Rosela shuddered and lowered the bow, unstringing the arrow. “Sorry,” she said bluntly. “You surprised me.” He laughed nervously, but didn’t fully remove his hand from his lakan. “Yeah, I can see that. You’re not out here hunting, are you? There’s not much game this close to town.” “I know, I mean… I just came from the Stained Pelt. I’m going back to the city.” “You need an escort there, little lady? Though I’m sure you can handle anything with that quick draw you have.” He offered a token of humor and smiled. Rosela eyed him dispassionately. “Thank you, but I’m fine.” Looking away, she started back off without another word. He hesitated before she heard his footsteps fading off behind her. By the time she couldn’t hear him anymore, her top right hand, her aiming hand, had started to tremble badly. She raised it shakily to her mouth, terrified of what she’d nearly done. By the time she reached the city gates, the horror, and her past, had been put carefully away and she walked through the gates with a sweet smile to each of the guards. Ledger : -1gm for 20 shortbow arrows

[Gossamer]

. Character: Rosela Experience: +3 Short Bow, +2 Socialization, +3 Observation Lore: Passing a Kuvan Citizenship Test Award: Citizenship of Riverfall Additional Note: Nicely done thread.. I liked the variety you presented and how at the end you had a statement on your way home. The NPCs were well represented and the scene realistic and creative. Great job. .