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The last dregs of Tydus Tempest's bottle of wine spilled down his throat as he held his light crossbow in his right hand, his left carefully sealed around the bottle that he had just depleted, laughter erupting from his lips as he half-heartedly aimed it at the mast of his ship. The workings of the weapon that Aedre had gifted him with were completely unknown to him, and he had decided to dedicate a portion of the evening to learning how to load the weapon. It was, unlike the cutlass or dagger, and much less his fists, something he could get behind due to its utility. Much like the grappling hook that he now found to be his favourite weapon despite his inability to effectively use it, he saw the crossbow as less of a weapon and far more of a tool to carry him forward.
Capable of not only dispatching enemies but also acting as a medium to propel rope in the event of needing to board, the Tempest saw it as an opportunity to improve himself and his capabilities as the buccaneer that he aspired to become. He had been, in the past, a pirate with the Tempest pod. Though, the traditional sense of the word was lost in the nature of what purpose he served. Rather alone in Riverfall, with only Kel and Callipsia (Adney's still here too, right? I should track him down some time...) as his mates, he found that he was lacking when it came to actual confrontation.
At best, I'm a distraction for the other crew. At most, I'm the business end of our little trio.
The Tempest looked at the strange contraption in his right hand, noting the uncocked nature of the drawstring and finding that the first step must be pulling it back. There was a lever at the middle of the gadget, and Tydus presumed that it was there that he needed to pull the string to. Cocking the string back, the Tempest found the resistance to be incredibly significant, fingers struggling to pull the thing back, and the first attempt ended with the string recoiling, a pained gasp escaping him.
By Laviku's bloody mucus that stung. Guess I gotta put a bit more force behind the damned thing.
On his second attempt, Tydus found that he was successful, the Svefra exerting himself to draw it back and place the string over the lever. The Tempest then reached for a bolt, placed upon the floor due to his lack of a quiver to hold them in.
First thing on the list when I decide to head out... Well... after a bottle of wine. This one's useless now.
The Tempest looked to the sprung crossbow, managing to work out how the bolt needed to be flocked and managing to make it work to his advantage. Once successful, the Tempest found a surge of pride filled his being, bright laughter bubbling from his lips as he stood to his feet. The loaded crossbow faced the floor as he raised his head smugly, tempted to call aloud before he raised the weapon, its face geared towards the ship's mast.
"Aha! I am Tydus Tempest, scourge of the many women of the sea, lord of the crossbow and master of the tongue! Fear the name, landlubbers, for one day he'll..."
The Tempest hesitated because he had no petching idea how to finish that sentence, though in a moment of delighted inspiration he finished it with a loud shout, pressing the crossbow's trigger. SHUNK. The bolt penetrated the mast's wooden surface, embedding itself deeply.
The Tempest was in absolutely no way prepared for what happened next. The weapon's recoil wrested it from his hands, the crossbow falling to the floor with a thud as the Tempest scion pursed his lips.
Ow.
Relatively uninjured in body, though with tremendously wounded pride, Tydus decided that his little self-tutorial was over, making his way off from his ship. Without being acutely aware of doing so, he took the bottle of wine with him, the unlabeled bottle serving as a reminder for him to buy a new one to drink aboard the ship. After all, ale was a drink that very quickly overstayed its welcome.
Common | Fratava
6th of Summer, 514
The last dregs of Tydus Tempest's bottle of wine spilled down his throat as he held his light crossbow in his right hand, his left carefully sealed around the bottle that he had just depleted, laughter erupting from his lips as he half-heartedly aimed it at the mast of his ship. The workings of the weapon that Aedre had gifted him with were completely unknown to him, and he had decided to dedicate a portion of the evening to learning how to load the weapon. It was, unlike the cutlass or dagger, and much less his fists, something he could get behind due to its utility. Much like the grappling hook that he now found to be his favourite weapon despite his inability to effectively use it, he saw the crossbow as less of a weapon and far more of a tool to carry him forward.
Capable of not only dispatching enemies but also acting as a medium to propel rope in the event of needing to board, the Tempest saw it as an opportunity to improve himself and his capabilities as the buccaneer that he aspired to become. He had been, in the past, a pirate with the Tempest pod. Though, the traditional sense of the word was lost in the nature of what purpose he served. Rather alone in Riverfall, with only Kel and Callipsia (Adney's still here too, right? I should track him down some time...) as his mates, he found that he was lacking when it came to actual confrontation.
At best, I'm a distraction for the other crew. At most, I'm the business end of our little trio.
The Tempest looked at the strange contraption in his right hand, noting the uncocked nature of the drawstring and finding that the first step must be pulling it back. There was a lever at the middle of the gadget, and Tydus presumed that it was there that he needed to pull the string to. Cocking the string back, the Tempest found the resistance to be incredibly significant, fingers struggling to pull the thing back, and the first attempt ended with the string recoiling, a pained gasp escaping him.
By Laviku's bloody mucus that stung. Guess I gotta put a bit more force behind the damned thing.
On his second attempt, Tydus found that he was successful, the Svefra exerting himself to draw it back and place the string over the lever. The Tempest then reached for a bolt, placed upon the floor due to his lack of a quiver to hold them in.
First thing on the list when I decide to head out... Well... after a bottle of wine. This one's useless now.
The Tempest looked to the sprung crossbow, managing to work out how the bolt needed to be flocked and managing to make it work to his advantage. Once successful, the Tempest found a surge of pride filled his being, bright laughter bubbling from his lips as he stood to his feet. The loaded crossbow faced the floor as he raised his head smugly, tempted to call aloud before he raised the weapon, its face geared towards the ship's mast.
"Aha! I am Tydus Tempest, scourge of the many women of the sea, lord of the crossbow and master of the tongue! Fear the name, landlubbers, for one day he'll..."
The Tempest hesitated because he had no petching idea how to finish that sentence, though in a moment of delighted inspiration he finished it with a loud shout, pressing the crossbow's trigger. SHUNK. The bolt penetrated the mast's wooden surface, embedding itself deeply.
The Tempest was in absolutely no way prepared for what happened next. The weapon's recoil wrested it from his hands, the crossbow falling to the floor with a thud as the Tempest scion pursed his lips.
Ow.
Relatively uninjured in body, though with tremendously wounded pride, Tydus decided that his little self-tutorial was over, making his way off from his ship. Without being acutely aware of doing so, he took the bottle of wine with him, the unlabeled bottle serving as a reminder for him to buy a new one to drink aboard the ship. After all, ale was a drink that very quickly overstayed its welcome.
Common | Fratava