27th of Spring 516 AV
9th Bell
9th Bell
Thunk!
Azmere remained in the pose of an archer with his left arm extended towards the target post. His right hand was back by his face and his eyes were trained on the wobbling shaft of his arrow. He scrunched his face up slightly. The practice space was quiet right now because it was mid-morning. Azmere had the day off to train and catch up on some much needed tidying up around his pavilion. What better way to start the day than to lay a bunch of arrows into some old wooden posts? The watchman turned his head and looked down to the dog sitting by his pack. Grey was relaxed but still sat with his head up and front paws together. Azmere clicked his tongue against the back of his teeth twice and Grey swiveled his neck so his eyes could stare at the gaze of his owner.
The archer smiled, stooped quickly and gave the companion a scratch behind the ears with his right hand then stood and exhaled as he eyed the next post. The first one was straight ahead almost fifteen feet away. The second target was at a twenty degree angle to Azmere’s left and another ten feet out. Each shot by itself was not terribly difficult but to nail both in succession was a trick Azmere had not mastered yet. There were two major hang-ups to such a shot. The first came by overthinking the follow-up shot before starting the rotation. It almost always resulted in the first shot being an absolute miss. The second hitch came in the transition from one target to the next. Archers are taught to exhale as they release so the body relaxes into the aim. A tense arm is a rigid shot and those generally don’t hit the mark. Azmere was ready and nodded as if affirming this to himself.
The watchman started with his bow down at his side and his right hand empty. He stared ahead at the empty field between the two posts. As if some clock went off inside his head, he snapped into action. The archer drew an arrow from his quiver using the homemade ring on his thumb while he raised his bow. He notched the arrow and drew back while twisting his torso towards the distant post. His left arm pointed straight to the target and the bow’s frame bent beneath the pressure of the man’s draw. Azmere inhaled, closed one eye and sighted down the arrow’s shaft to the post. He was just an inch below the top. He exhaled and opened his grip releasing the string with a slight twang. His eyes followed the shot as his arms reset and repeated the motion of drawing and loading a second arrow.
Thunk!
Azmere’s body was already twisting towards the second target. He hit the post but low and an inch or two left of center. The archer drew air into his lungs as he drew the second arrow back until his bowstring was taut then bent to his cheek. His eyes settled on the target and one eye shut as the shaft leveled beneath it to point at the chunk of timber. Azmere’s arm was straight and his knees were flexed slightly. Three ticks had now passed since he released the first arrow. Azmere closed his left eye, verified his aim and exhaled while loosing the shot.
Thunk!
Grey barked twice and Azmere smiled. The first target was limping but the second was certainly dead as evidence displayed in the form of a wobbling arrow sunk deep into the very center. The archer started across the grass to retrieve his shots when Grey let out a soft whimper. The Drykas patted his leg twice and the dog shot up and ran to his side then fell into step. The canine was rewarded with a gentle pat on the head. For a trick shot, Azmere wasn’t terribly happy but he wasn’t upset either. More practice was definitely needed, though. That was for certain.