[SE] [Training] whispers in vain

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Astaroth prides himself on being relatively good at fighting – at least when it comes to close quarters. He’s practiced for plenty of years utilizing his cane and anything else within reach for brawls and restraints. Yet, what’s evident to him lately is the fact that he’s very rusty when it comes to practicing with the cane itself but even worse when it comes to anything ranged. And rather than stay in the Grounds at the Barracks and make a fool of himself in front of so many people that knew him, well, he’s borrowed two bows and a few slings of arrows and slipped away into the recesses of the bone bridges. (He doubled up just in case his poor utilization broke one of them).

At least here he can curse himself out time and time again for missing something, alone.

And that’s precisely what he’s done over the last half hour or so.

It’s a cool day for the Grounds, in comparison to the heat of Torchline and the like. Clouds cover the sun partially here and there, adding a touch of relief for anyone that isn’t Ancient, but it offers enough variety for the butcher to be able to practice within harsh light conditions and more muted light. He’s even gone so far as to bring targets to set up on the rail of the bone bridges, standing quite a distance back, and practiced letting the bowstring glide through his calloused fingers, letting the arrows fly, and watching with absolute irritation as it goes wide or notches into the side of the bone bridge, or even manages to split the gap between the bones on the rail and fly out never to be seen again in the water below.

All in all, it’s going great.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Lena

Lena had relatively no experience in fighting – and usually opted to keep it that way. The Caretaker was often found in mending capabilities or running some other kind of volley – whether through animals or cleverness. The last time she’d even held a weapon had been her staff, and since it was primarily utilized for healing, that probably didn’t count either.

So meandering her way through the Grounds once more, basket full of more sweetgrass for future endeavors in poultices and baking alike, she thought nothing of glimpsing across bridges and small isles, Mittens meandering and hovering behind her. To see an Ancient practicing what appeared to be archery along the rails nearby made her eyes widen, watching for a moment, before her snowball companion unleashed a horrendous screech.

“So sorry,” because she was, and wouldn’t be surprised if the stranger turned to bark at her.

sunlight on mist; summer lightning
your choices outweigh your substance

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Unaware of the audience he’s attracted as he fails over and over again, the butcher wisely keeps his cursing to himself. It’s quiet enough that it’s muted in the wind that likely is causing a bit of trouble for his target practice, and while Astaroth is typically calm, cool, and collected… well, he notches the arrow into the bow and aims only for Mitten’s screech to startle him.

The arrow flies wonky again and his posture straightens up, plastering an easy smile on his face as he turns to spot the interruption when he sees a lovely woman apologizing for a sentient snowball of all things.

Exhaling the breath of tension in his lungs, Astaroth lowers the bow and inclines his head. “No need to apologize.” He hums in as gentle of a greeting as he can, dark eyes watching the snowball for a few moments longer before he looks at Lena. “A feisty little one, it seems?” Nodding his head toward Mittens for emphasis, his smile twisting a touch brighter and more relaxed.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Lena

Lena couldn’t help the grimace flickering over her features as the arrow flew off, timed well with Mittens’ screech, and was just about ready to utter a hundred more apologies before the other simply said there was no need. Granting a frown at her companion, who was all the more inclined to scoff and hover nearby (perhaps even turning disdainfully away; much like an indignant cat), she mustered something beyond regrets. “Often,” she admitted with a slight smile. It wouldn't be the first time her bonded had caused some chaotic ruckus. “I’m Lena,” was an offering of introductions and greetings, so they weren’t simply standing awkwardly on a bridge, concerned over a snowball’s antics.

Her eyes then went to the lineup of targets – incapable of detecting whether they’d been maimed or marked; and if she noticed any discarded arrows, she didn’t say anything. “Are you decent with a bow?” She wouldn’t know; her chances with such weaponry were slim to none.

sunlight on mist; summer lightning
your choices outweigh your substance

At first it’s a murmur, then a symphony. Voices all out with laughter and conversation. As you look around the voices change to cries, screams. The words ‘Sparkbird’ and ‘Lady!’ call out in fearful tones. As a fin cuts through the water it becomes clear. You’ve just heard the fall of the Hollowed Grounds to the Sparkbird, recorded by the voices of passing Echo sharks. Good luck sleeping tonight.

---

You’ve encountered a pack of echo sharks. This counts as a common creature encounter for the purposes of levelling, but does not count as a Random Event for levelling or MP. There will be no further admin/re intervention. If you choose to follow this creature, you do so at your own risk, however, just having it in this thread is enough to satisfy your levelling requirements.

Echo Shark (common) - A dwarf species of shark known for hunting in packs, the Echo Shark can live in both freshwater and saltwater. They are able to mimic any sound they’ve heard and band together to increase their range of vocals. The sharks use the words and sounds they’ve learned to lure unsuspecting prey into the water, where the sharks will then leap up and drag them into the waves.

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Alleviating the surprise of being watched by making small talk in regards to a creature more akin to Whitebrim than here, the butcher turns more fully to face Lena as she offers her name as an introduction. He half bows, bright sharp smile glued to his face as he greets her in turn. “My name is Astaroth. It is a pleasure.” He is curious as to what the snowball’s name is, but he doesn’t ask — instead, shifting his attention toward the targets in question shortly after.

A soft laugh chuckles out of his throat as he shakes his head. “Oh I am dreadful with them, but I figured practicing out here would alleviate any embarrassment I might face in the Barracks.” It’s playfully said, casting a glance back over toward her in amusement. “Have you used one before?” If so, perhaps she might have some pointers. But as he takes her in, he figures that she likely wasn’t one to deal with weaponry all that often.

It’s about that time that the sound of screams and cries echo from beneath them. It doesn’t startle the butcher, though, if anything it intrigues him as he leans over the rail trying to spot the root cause when he sees the fins cutting through the water and it dawns on him.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Lena

Smiling in return, she committed the name to memory, before embarking upon the whole notion of ranged weaponry as a whole. “Gods no,” and she laughed. “I’ve hardly done much beyond holding a staff. I’m the Caretaker of the Celestine,” by way of explanation – rather than parsing through the way she’d avoided violence.

The echoing screams ensured her thoughts faded then and there – attention deviating to the side of the bridge, where fins poked out. “Ah, the echo sharks.” They weren’t uncommon in the celestial zoo either, given their proclivities to coming out, serenading with different aspects, and inspiring many a hunter.

But these ones held some haunting notes in particular, and she knew exactly what they imitated.

She nearly asked the Ancient if he was here during the war, then refrained; because that would’ve meant a whole multitude of changes and aspects. Since he didn’t react too harshly, she figured he hadn’t been anyway. Mittens, at that moment, opted to retrieve an arrow from nearby and begin twirling it through its stony mouth – hovering out of reach of any human.

sunlight on mist; summer lightning
your choices outweigh your substance

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Hearing the lilt of Lena’s laugh, the butcher’s smile grows more genuine each passing second. At the mention of being the Caretaker of the Celestine, though, his brows raise toward her as things start to make more sense. “Ah, what a wonderful career. Do you like it?” He imagines it would be interesting, if nothing else. A sense of accomplishment for caring for so many creatures and ensuring their health — even if he hasn’t gone to witness it. He’s heard of it, though.

Interrupted for a moment as he peers over the edge to see the echo sharks vanish into the mists and water below, the butcher steps back and watches as Mittens snags an arrow, content to let the snowball keep it. “Well, I just so happen to have an extra bow and plenty of arrows if you would like to give it a go.” He gestures with a hand toward the bag set by the bridge entrance, before the Ancient leans toward Lena with amusement glittering in his face. “We will both be terrible but at least not terribly alone.”

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Lena

“I love it,” she assured with every semblance of a beaming, radiant smile. The Celestine was everything she could’ve dreamed – all, thankfully, due to Frey. The gardens were wondrous, the animals became mended, and she could spend her time doing something she cherished every single day. And most hours, it kept her busy and out of trouble.

Save for now – though the trials and tribulations seemed to only be a bow, some arrows, and ineptitude. “Oh,” she paused, uncertain. They wouldn’t be shooting anything at creatures – based on the targets – and the driving force behind her avoidance was always the rooted portion of vehemence and violence; always a last resort for the Caretaker. Would it be better to at least know something? “Well, I can try. You have my permission to laugh.”

She gave another grin before grabbing the second bow. “Thank you.” Mittens finally relented on the arrow it had stolen, and Lena notched it; she’d seen at least that much from the Dragoons. Studying it like it was a foreign concept, she eventually relented her initial question. “How far back do you pull the string?” Perhaps Astaroth knew.

sunlight on mist; summer lightning
your choices outweigh your substance

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

“That is wonderful to hear.” Astaroth hums, a genuine bright tone to his accented voice. He finds that the people that love their work tended to succeed and enjoy themselves more than others forced into varying positions. Isla is an example that comes to mind for him, of her brilliance when it came to medicines and healing. He imagines Lena’s capable of the very same outstanding capabilities when it came to the creatures she cared for and tended to.

As for Asta? He loved security, surprisingly. Permission to allow himself to ensure the establishment of the Dusklight remained free of problems? Sign him up.

Besides, it had its entertaining moments. (And dinner options).

Anyway, the butcher chuckles softly beneath his breath as he snags another arrow and focuses back on the targets lined up. “You are welcome to laugh at my failures as well.” He drawls, already pulling the string back when the question arises. “Ah, to be honest, my dear? I have zero idea. I am simply just testing. The further I pull, the wilder it tends to go. Too short and it goes nowhere.” It’s unhelpful and he knows it, so he flashes her an apologetic smile. “Somewhere in the middle, perhaps?” He leads by example, drawing it back halfwayish as he aims, letting it fly and watching as it zings right past the target in question, out over the edge to vanish in the mists and water below.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Lena

Uncertain if she should ask about his own occupation, for she didn’t have much of a prying habit, she instead lent her attention to everything else – like the bow, the arrows, and the confusion. Her eyes flickered back and forth between his already utilized strands and her own, fingers pulling back on it inefficiently, watching as the string listlessly popped back into place. “All right. Worth a try,” she supposed, though she was already grimacing.

Mittens made some foul little frown when Astaroth’s arrow ultimately vanished, and Lena had to wonder how many they might be wasting soon.

Taking a deep breath, she tugged on the thread again, until her arm ached and her muscles screeched – clearly used to other multitudes of work. Notching the arrow, she concentrated painfully on the nearest target, closing one eye and honing in, thinking that would help her focus.

Upon her release, however, it shot straight downward, snagging at the boards of the bridge in an audible and ridiculous twang.

sunlight on mist; summer lightning
your choices outweigh your substance

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

It certainly was worth a try, and as Astaroth sends his arrow flying into the abyss, having Lena’s company keeps him from criticizing himself too harshly — keeping anything that may have been muttered out in bits and pieces of a language long since dead to himself.

But it’s Lena’s turn as he slides the next arrow into place, watching with dark honeyed eyes of curiosity as he draws it back and lets it fly, impressed by the way she seemed to act like she knew what she was doing, before the arrow promptly drops into the bone bridge’s floor with a twang that almost seems to echo.

Sighing dramatically in companionship at the fact they both have plenty to work on, Astaroth pulls back on the bowstring with the arrow already in place. “This is quite the endeavor. The wind is not helping.” He laments, aiming slightly differently this time to let it fly and when he does, the arrow launches, buoyed by the wind enough to glance one of the targets and cause it to start wobbling. Accomplishment flares in his smile as he settles again to watch Lena.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //

Lena

Her eyes went wide at the arrow; glad, perhaps, that no one was around to be seriously mauled or wounded from the errant display. Nor would she blame the wind – her own incapabilities were enough. Still, it gave her a slight giggle to use it as an excuse, shaking her head as she snagged it out of the wood. It wasn’t too bent or marred, and she could re-use it. It gave her an opportunity to watch the Ancient’s attempts again, eyes widening as the breeze pushed it along to nearly topple the target. “Hey! That’s great!”

Buoyed and lofted by his near accomplishment, she notched the arrow back along the string. Thinking she needed to work on her aim and her strength, she didn’t pull as tightly, but raised it upwards, away from the boards. Inhaling on a long breath and ignoring Mittens’ half-hearted eyeroll, she released.

It actually went slightly higher this time, but still nowhere near accurate, becoming lodged in the center of the beams.

sunlight on mist; summer lightning
your choices outweigh your substance

// as long as there's bread and as long as there's an appetite //

Hearing her giggle before he makes his attempt – only to find the attempt actually not half bad, the butcher flashes the Caretaker a brilliant and sharp grin of amusement and playful accomplishment. Of course, it puts him precisely in the right space to settle back and watch, drawing another arrow from the quiver on his back (seeing as his keep vanishing thanks to his aiming skills).

She aims and lets the arrow loose and he watches as it does get better than the previous one. Delight spreads against his bronze face and he nods encouragingly to see it thwack into the side of the bone bridge. “Much steadier!” He applauds, before starting to slot his arrow into place again. “And you have the benefit of being able to retrieve your arrows.” Flashing Lena a playful wink, the butcher tries to mix their movements together so that he might meet somewhere in the middle – trying to get the arrow where he can actually retrieve it.

He lets it go, hears it zip through the air before thwacking into the side of the bone bridge along with hers just beneath his target he’d been aiming at and it sparks a deep chuckle to escape his lips as if in disbelief.

Astaroth

// as long as everyone you need is stepping in line, you are camouflaged //