Solo Aim Small, Miss Small

[Konrad Venger]

17th Day of Summer, 517AV - 11th Bell - Duskstep Pavilion

"Telling you, mate. Kontis? Bloody cock teases, every one."

"Gods, not this again..."

The words came from two mouths at the same time, male and female, young and old. Ronir just growled out the words without looking up from the bow he was sanding; Seema did look at her brother, icy glare of offended common femininity in her eyes. Cobb shrugged and plowed blithely on, polishing the javelin on his lap as he waxed romantic.

Zulrav, stop his tongue, just this once.

"I mean, they act all lah-dee-dah and righteous, just because the got some god' blood in them," he shrugged, blew out a contemptuous breath. "But honestly, save from the healing, petch good are they for?"

"I've heard different," Seema chimed in, and now Ronir glanced up. Gods, why encourage the idiot? "They are more than just healers, like everyone is more than just one-"

"Oh, spare me. No reason to go around with a stick jammed up their arses. No wonder they like Riverfall so much. Big blue sods are just the same."

Ronir massaged his temples, and considered ordering the boy to sod off until his newest tirade was over with. Gods, he gets spurned by one girl and suddenly he's an authority enough to malign a whole race? Bloody pathetic.

"Whatever you say, brother," Seema sighed, tone that of one used to placating a "challenged" sibling. "You're gonna say it anyway, I'm sure."

"Hey, just telling it how it is," Cobb said with another shrug, wiping the last smudge from the long, triangular tip of the weapon. "Ain't my fault they're boring as shyke with stick up their-"

"Ah-hem?"

They turned to the sound of a throat clearing that was so staged it was practically a flowery announcement... and found a scarred man with a bored expression on his face. The visitor removed his hat as he stepped into the pavilion, eyes roving over racks and shelves of weapons.

"Good day."

"Aye, maybe," Ronir said grumpily, deciding to be a bit of a bastard and taking the greeting literally. A good day? In this season? With drought and famine and mad wolves and disease starting to spread and the gods apparently personally displeased with them all? When had they had a "good day"? "What are you looking for, Pridesun?"

A season ago, Konrad might have glowered at the appellation. The way he was so casually lumped in with a bunch of outcasts, outsiders, Drykas lames and pariahs. But now? He just smirked softly, a better way to show the old mustache that he'd better work on some new jibes.

"Need target. For archery."

Ronir made a face and pondered, thinking for a tick that the walahk's Pavi had vastly improved in such a short time. Then again, when all you had to listen to around you during every waking bell was Pavi, you learned fast. He jerked a thumb towards a line of dummies and targets along one wall. Konrad walked along them, inspecting each... and patted one on the wooden head.

"This one."

"Bit big, ain't it?"

"Need big. Shoot from horse."

"Ah."

The older Drykas didn't need to hear more. Neither did Cobb, but of course he still gave an amused little snort. Hopeless walahk, barely able to shoot, yeah, he'd definitely need a big target if he was going to chance his arm at archery from horseback. Arrows probably wouldn't land within ten yards of where he aimed. But a sale was a sale, and Ronir was in the business of making money.

"Good idea, then. And that'll be ten gold mizas."

"For this? For piece of wood?"

"Piece of carved wood, with a stake to keep it in place, made from toughest oak so you can use it for years." Ronir walked over to his damn creation and stroked the head, so well-made it even had ears and indents for nose, eyes and a mouth. "Or you can make your own."

Old petcher has a point.

He still made the effort of mulling it over, of course. Weighing his options. Stretching out the silence to try and force the old guy to... oh, who was he kidding? Trying to wait out Ronir was like out-staring a marble bust. Finally he just sighed and counted the coins out from his purse, and Ronir clicked his fingers at Cobb.

"What? He can take it himself."

"He's a customer, boy," the Drykas said, checking each coin as he spoke. "He gets proper service, able-bodied or not."

The younger man looked like he was about to argue, but Konrad could see some sliver of self-control and recollection of the past stilling his words. No, there'd be no point. Ronir wouldn't budge, and push him too far...

"... fine. Where to?"

"Oh, long walk," Konrad said with undisguised relish. "Best drink water first."

"Bloody typical..."


Receipt:-10gm for Dummy/Target

[Konrad Venger]

"You not got thing to do?"

"You joking? No bloody way I'd miss this..."

Sedon just grinned at Konrad's patented Sunberth Scowl; he'd long since grown immune to it. Whatever the enigmatic walahk was in his past - and Sedon had heard plenty of theories, and concocted a few of his own - he knew the man was smart and aware enough not to indulge his violent tastes in Endrkyas. Unlike that eastern hellhole he was raised in, one could go around knifing people because they were annoying.

"Besides," he said around a mouthful of deer jerky. "I might be helpful, hmm?"

Konrad didn't ahve an answer for that, so satisfied himself with a grunt instead. Sedon's medium was with a javelin and spear, not the bow, which made him unusual among the Drykas, but no less deadly with either. He'd seen the tubby cook hurl his javelin from a galloping horse and spear a woolly grasslands cow right between the ribs. Different weapon, different methods, but still... he could be useful.

Only reason to keep the wanker around today.

He finished setting up the dummy, forcing and twisting the stake as far into the ground as it could go. It wasn't like he'd be hitting it with a hammer or a sword, knocking it every which way, but he didn't want to loose an arrow and watch the damn thing fall over before he hit it. Or failed to hit it, as was likely to be the case.

Gotta start somewhere.

That done, he mounted Yeh Bugger and gripped the reins with one hand, his bow with the other. A quiver of arrows was lashed to the saddle, feathered ends just below his hanging hand. He clucked and pulled on the reins, moving the horse around and back... until he was about a hundred feet from the target, in front of him, a little to his right.

Simple start. Trot across in front of it, let go a shot when you're close.

"Ready?"

Konrad just grunted again and notched an arrow. Held it in place with one hand, gripping both bow and shaft at the same time. How hard could it really-

Don't even finish the thought, you idiot.

"A'right, c'mon, y'sod..."

A gentle heel in the gelding's side, and Yeh Bugger went off at a slow trot. A hundred feet gets eaten up quickly when you're still busy thinking about what you have to do when you get to the end of it. Should he stand up? Go with the motion? He was aware of the bouncing effect, his arse not bouncing so much as wobbling in the saddle... better then to try and fire at the top of bottom of it?

By the time he'd processed the idea, he was forty feet away, and had to make a decision, so-

"Petch it."

-he let go the reins and trusted Yeh Bugger to not go plowing into the dummy. He extended his bow arm straight out over the horse's head, drew back with the other... aimed down the shaft and gods the whole petching world seemed to be dancing and shaking at the end of it. The dummy kept moving and jumping out of his way, but was getting bigger as he was closer, closer-

Now!

TWANG

The dummy was barely fifteen feet away when he let fly, trotting by with his lower body jiggling all over the saddle-

THUNK

"Hey, not bad!"

The dummy shuddered as the arrow struck it in the arm. The bicep, by the looks of it. So, if his target just stood there with his arms out, not moving or firing back, and allowed him to canter up and put an arrow into him at spitting distance... yeah, Sedon was correct.

"Not make fun," he barked out as he brought Sedon to a halt, a hundred yards in the other direction. "Was shyke."

"Hey, you hit it, didn't you?"

Konrad scowled. He'd aimed for the chest, for hell's sake. Not the arm! Not good enough. So he kicked Yeh Bugger again, horse setting off faster than before. He let go the reins sooner. Drew sooner. Aimed for longer, as he shaked and jiggled and when he was a few ticks away from passing-

Aim lower this time.

-he let it fly-

TWANG

"Shyke!"

Sedon guffawed around his meat as the arrow whipped straight past the target's hips and whacked into the grass. The walahk let loose a stream of what he assumed were obscenities in that strange, grating language he still hadn't worked out yet. He watched as he got further away, then turned again... and decided to help.

Least I can do.

"Stand up!"

"What?"

"In the saddle!" Sedon demonstrated as he shouted. "Stand up in the stirrups! More stable than sitting!"

He watched the walah frown and mull this over. Weighing the advice like he seemed to weigh everything, always cautious and thinking away, so unlike the barbarians he'd heard about as a youth. Then the man tentatively stood... and miraculously, found he didn't fall flat on his arse.

Sedon sighed and rolled his eyes, settling back into the ground.

"Just listen to an old Drykas, you suspicious sod!"

[Konrad Venger]

There was no harm in trying, after all. Konrad did as was suggested and as his legs straightened in the saddle... he did find it a little more stable. But there was a difference between doing so when Yeh Bugger was still, and when he was moving. So...

"A'right, boy," he muttered, settling back into the saddle. Again his hand was wrapped around both bow and arrow shaft, feathered end notched into the string. "Les' try dis agen. Git!"

Off he went, at a slow trot that quickly became a canter, a slow, steady loping movement of thin but powerful legs. Konrad felt himself bounce in the saddle, balls bruised until he ground his teeth and-

-stood in in the stirrups, legs bent to absorb the shock-

"Huh. Petch me runnin'."

The dummy was bouncing towards them, or so it seemed. Still as you'd expect from dead wood and stuffing, arms spread out as if in greeting. Konrad let go the rains and Yeh Bugger kept on at his steady pace, heedless of what was controlling him, if anything. He drew back on the bow, raised it at the same time.

Move your legs! Bend your knees, keep steady-

Another time, he might have found the sweet spot. That perfect balance of standing and crouching that would have made the bouncing bearable for his aim. But distance didn't wait, nor did the dummy, or Bugger. Closer and closer he got, until he was a dozen feet away and he sighted quickly down the shaft-

TWANG

Sedon winced as he heard a muted "thunk" followed by a bark of outraged Myrian that he assumed was both blood oath and ear-splitting curse. What should have been an arrow to the heart was instead a sharp stick in the dummy's thigh, wobbling and waving at Yeh Bugger's arse as he kept pounding away. Sedon watched the walahk thump back down in his saddle, yanking back hard on the reins with one hand while he still clutched his bow.

"Easy, for shyke's sake! Don't spook him!"

Konrad should have been listening. A Drykas gives you urgent advice on horse-handling, you sodding well listen. But he was tired, and he was frustrated, and all he wanted to do was make this damned stupid beast feel the same, and-

"Shhhhhhhyke!"

"Gods... damnit, man."

He landed heavy, but with nothing broken. As Yeh Bugger reared up, whinnying with confusion at the sudden pain through his snout, Konrad realized one hand wasn't enough... and too late, it turned out. He slid off the back of the horse, still clutching his bow, crashing down on his side from a good five feet up.

But on his side. Not his back, or his head, or anywhere breakable. By the time he got to his knees, he could see Sedon hurrying over, concern etched on his face.

He hated the man for it. Concern bred pity, and he had no use for that. It couldn't train you, or feed you, or arm you. So instead of thanks, all the Drykas got was a snarl... that did nothing apparently.

"Oh, get up, Hans," he said, crossing his beefy arms over a shrinking belly. Drought and famine were apparently wondrous methods to trim down. "You're not a damned baby, and you know you should have listened."

Konrad creaked and strained and muscles ached and throbbed. His bones seemed to crack even as he got back up, and Sedon sighed. Walahks and their damned impatience. Like you could master this art in an afternoon? He scratched the back of his head and held up a finger for every point.

"First of all? When I tell you to do something involving your horse, listen. Who knows 'em better, me or some walahk? Second, don't bother with a canter yet, stick to a trot. Yer not ready. Thirdly? Aim small, miss small."

Konrad frowned, ignorance writ all over that hideous face. So Sedon explained it to him, and once he was finished, sent him to get his bloody horse back.

[Konrad Venger]

"Yeah, I wuz... biduv a bastard there, wasn' I?"

That was the closest Konrad could come to an apology. He knew the bloke deserved more than that, but he wasn't at that point. Not yet. He'd been plenty of an arsehole, himself, after all. But as he looked at him, he found a scowl creeping back into his face, and sighed.

Yeh Bugger just kept chewing the grass. Damned two-leg needed to mind his temper.

"A'right. Les' try this one more time, eh?"

He was slow, and he was gentle, just like Sedon taught him. Reaching out with one hand, his other hand holding the bow out, drawing the horse's eye... until he could get a hand on his flank... petting him gently. Another few ticks and Yeh Bugger let him get a foot in the stirrup, then it was a quick swing up and-

"Easy, easy!"

"C'mon, don't be a twat..."

Sedon muttered his sage advice as he watched Hansel slowly, painfully regain control of his mount. Yeh Bugger didn't like the treatment, but he was used to his master, and after a few ticks... a headshake here and there was all the ire he raised. Konrad patted the horse on the neck and Sedon smirked.

"Good. Act like a petching human, why don't you."

Then the walahk eased the horse towards the dummy, and his new target. Sedon's eyes flicked to the hunting knife buried in the wooden chest of it. The hilt was more visible to Konrad than the blade, a small, thumb-sized target that was, as Sedon explained, entirely the point.

"You aim for the man, you might hit him. But you aim for the knife, you'll be focusing more on the small target. So even if you miss small, you'll hit the man. Get me?"

Konrad did not, at least not right away. Sedon expected that, and knew the man would have to try it out himself to understand. So the tubby cook rubbed his jaw and exhaled with a slow, deep huff as Hansel kicked the horse into a trot... then stood up on his stirrups...

The scarred man wasn't petching this one up. His face was set, jaw tight, heedless of the sweat and grime and dirt from his fall that caked it. His lips barely moved as he urged the horse on, eyes only on the dummy-

No. The target. The knife. The hilt. Only focus on that.

At the canter he moved at before, it might have been an impossible shot for him. But at a trot, shuffling along at about the speed a human could jog, and standing up... yes, he could find his balance. Enough that when he let go the reins and drew back the arrow... aimed down the shaft.

It wasn't perfect. His view still jerked and stalled and lurched and danced, but it was better than before. He closed one eye, focused on that smear of brown, leather-bound wood sticking out of the dummy. Thirty feet. Twenty feet-

Now.

TWANG

THUNK

"Ha!"

"About sodding time..."

It wasn't perfect, but it was better than before. Konrad was fast deciding to just make that his mantra and be done with it. He looked back over his shoulder, and saw the arrow trembling in the dummy... sticking right out of it's torso. Not on target, true, but in the trunk, where he'd aimed. An enemy struck by that shot would be down and screaming; a deer might be crippled, or wounded enough to bleed out.

It was better. That was all that mattered.

"See?!" Sedon shouted out to him, striding through the grass with a grin that could make a cat jealous. "Aim small, miss small! Stick to practicing like that, you'll get better. No more arrows lost in the grass."

Konrad chuckled and dismounted, leading Yeh Bugger back to the dummy, ready to hunt his miss arrows. "All there is to it, huh?"

"Time and practice, Hans. Sure as the Konti are cock teases."

The walahk paused, frowned, and spun around to find the Drykas already walking away. Gods above. That got around quick...

[Samuel Longwell]

Grading Complete Please edit your grade request thread so that it's obvious that it's been graded. Feel free to PM me if you have any questions/problems with your grade. Name: Konrad XP Award: Negotiation 1 Riding 1 Weapon: Shortbow 3 Horsemanship 1 Lore: Riding: Standing in the saddle can help stability Shortbow: Aim small, miss small Archery is harder while mounted Notes: Thank you for already updating your ledger. A short and sweet training thread, I do like the way you use NPCs to flavour your posts. Do be careful to roleplay at Konrad's skill level in riding though. At such a low novice level Konrad would struggle to do anything complicated successfully while mounted. Because of this I didn't give you quite as much riding XP as you could have got.