remember that you can't save everyone
remember that you have to try
They arrived while he prepared, a well-formed group of trusted individuals. Oliver surprised him, but only because of the uncertainty perpetually infusing and permeating through his movements, his voiced thoughts; earning a nod from the General, glad to see him here, willing to strive and try. Weaver, Evie, and Jigano earned the faintest of smiles, whatever etchings of amusement or pride he could sketch along his foundations – briefly perusing the materials they’d brought with them.Then it was time to begin. “Thank you all for coming,” because he was grateful they were attempting to gain better abilities, better defenses, better skills; trying to become tacticians, expert wielders, or proficient in their own rights. Whether this was to merely guard themselves or others didn’t matter; he was here to orchestrate and unfurl, unleash and uphold their safety while practicing, while skirmishing, while presiding in foreign distinctions or age-old, inherent harpooning. “My intentions are to have you practice using different weapons today. Some you may already be competent in, and others you may have never used. I want to ensure you have a variety of munitions and abilities at your disposal.” For whatever may came; the future entirely uncertain, and the past inkling with too many tragedies, not enough triumphs.
“We will start with the bow.” His eyes went to Jigano’s distinct crossbow and quiver, the air of recognition clear, since he’d been the one to create the manifestation. “You may grab one,” indicating where they were laid out, each the same design, some varying in length and size, the quivers resting beside each, already instilled with several training arrows (for fear aims wouldn’t be quite true at the start). “And a bracer,” following through on his directions by doing the exact same, grabbing hold of a bow, settling the quiver on his back, and placing the bracer along his arm.
Waiting for all of them to follow suit, he then continued, marching towards the targets set before them – ringed with painted bullseyes. Some might even have certain faces adorned in the middle (Zariah was a highlight on one, and enemies from his past on some others). In silence, he modeled notching the arrow, repeating the movement several times, slowly, watching to see they followed through. “You draw back your string, like so,” another display, undulation and ripple of muscles pulling back the taut thread. “Let your eyes stay on the target, not the bow.” A common mistake, and one he’d done a series of times before, in his ignorant youth, training the same way they were now. “Then release.” His fingers did exactly that, and the arrow flew, sliding through the air with deliberate power, hitting his target with an audible thump.
Then he backed away, out of their range, intending to go behind them, and fix any stances, proffer any advice, or let them learn on their own.
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No post order!
Grab a bow, a bracer, or use your own! Try notching an arrow and let them fly at your target! Dice roll will determine how well you did!
out for vengeance
DEIMOS
