Your Words I My Words I My Thoughts
Day 32 of Summer, 514
Antinous Training Grounds
Balian stared down the shaft of his arrow as he aimed at the target. A few arrows could already be seen laying around the target, and a few sticking out of the hay, though none had found the center of the target. He arrived that day to the training grounds determined to improve himself even if it took him till nightfall. The encounter with the strange pycon a week before had left a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth, one that he wished to wash out. It bothered him how easily beaten he was, and by a rodent no less! If he only he had managed to shoot the squirrel before it had gotten off the tree, he would have been able to avoid that entire mess. Not that he wanted to kill Squire Achailist, knowing now that he too was a member of the order, but he did recognize that had he managed to keep the engagement at range, he would have fared much better.
Balian was already somewhat familiar with the feel of his bow. He had picked up some skill with in the few times his father had taken him hunting outside the outpost, but now he had the time and the necessity to improve his skill. He understood that he also needed to work on his close quarter combat as well, however he was much more adept at this. In truth, he was much more comfortable with his bow than with his sword, preferring the concept of keeping your enemies at range and in control. What little experience he had in close quarter combat had imparted a sense of chaos that he would much rather prefer avoid.
Syna had not reached her zenith yet, however she had already climbed a good portion into the sky. Her light filled the training grounds, and already the day’s heat could be felt. Balian concentrated on his target, attempting to keep his bow as steady as possible, while he held the arrow in place, string pulled back and ready to be released. One tick went by. Then a second. Balian waited. He waited for a moment when the shot felt right, when he felt that his arrow would fly true. When he thought he felt it he released the string and with a soft whistle the arrow flew forward. The second he released it he already knew that it was going to miss. At the last moment, when he released the string, his left arm, which held the bow, had jumped to the side. As it were the arrow flew harmlessly off the side, embedding itself into the ground.
"Petch!" With a frustrated sigh, he picked up his quiver, which he had placed on the ground and went over to the target to collect his arrows.
Antinous Training Grounds
Balian stared down the shaft of his arrow as he aimed at the target. A few arrows could already be seen laying around the target, and a few sticking out of the hay, though none had found the center of the target. He arrived that day to the training grounds determined to improve himself even if it took him till nightfall. The encounter with the strange pycon a week before had left a somewhat bitter taste in his mouth, one that he wished to wash out. It bothered him how easily beaten he was, and by a rodent no less! If he only he had managed to shoot the squirrel before it had gotten off the tree, he would have been able to avoid that entire mess. Not that he wanted to kill Squire Achailist, knowing now that he too was a member of the order, but he did recognize that had he managed to keep the engagement at range, he would have fared much better.
Balian was already somewhat familiar with the feel of his bow. He had picked up some skill with in the few times his father had taken him hunting outside the outpost, but now he had the time and the necessity to improve his skill. He understood that he also needed to work on his close quarter combat as well, however he was much more adept at this. In truth, he was much more comfortable with his bow than with his sword, preferring the concept of keeping your enemies at range and in control. What little experience he had in close quarter combat had imparted a sense of chaos that he would much rather prefer avoid.
Syna had not reached her zenith yet, however she had already climbed a good portion into the sky. Her light filled the training grounds, and already the day’s heat could be felt. Balian concentrated on his target, attempting to keep his bow as steady as possible, while he held the arrow in place, string pulled back and ready to be released. One tick went by. Then a second. Balian waited. He waited for a moment when the shot felt right, when he felt that his arrow would fly true. When he thought he felt it he released the string and with a soft whistle the arrow flew forward. The second he released it he already knew that it was going to miss. At the last moment, when he released the string, his left arm, which held the bow, had jumped to the side. As it were the arrow flew harmlessly off the side, embedding itself into the ground.
"Petch!" With a frustrated sigh, he picked up his quiver, which he had placed on the ground and went over to the target to collect his arrows.
