[open] I shot the target

[onlyhymns]

WHO: Cade and his archery babies
WHAT: the result of this
WHEN: early Harvestmere
WHERE: the training area
NOTES:will add as needed

I. Setup

A lot needs to be done for the proper testing of any initiates: there are already targets available, but not moving ones. Practice bows and a whole lot of dulled arrows need to be found, or made, for the people who don't have their own.
And if they're going to do this, they're going to do it right. With Nari's help, something of a pop-up skeet-shooting range is being constructed, involving her miniature siege engines and a plethora of chipped ceramic flatware.
Maybe a local sculptor can help by making some birds with mean faces.

II. The First Morning

Cade is there a little after sunrise, standing straight and trying not to look nervous, his bow over his shoulder and his eyes alert as he waits-- hopes-- for people to show up. If they do, he asks them in his quiet, serious voice to demonstrate their skill, if any. If they admit to having none, that's a different conversation, but one he's equally willing to have.

III. Misc

For anyone who wants to interact with Cade separately on the subject.

for D'Artagnan

It's late afternoon when Cade comes to the Watch office, looking military as ever himself, and clears his throat while handing a rolled-up parchment to D'Artagnan.
"I thought," he says quietly, resisting an 'um', "this might be of some use to you and your men."

Comments

me!

[mousquetaire]

[ D'Artagnan remembers him. Their first meeting had not gone wonderfully, by anyone's estimation. D'Artagnan had not taken Cade for a fighter then, and had been greatly confused when he was told the man was a member of Forces. It would be good to make amends, he thinks, while taking the parchment. ]

Archery.

[ He leans back in his seat, considering it, and gives Cade an appraising glance. ]

I've no doubt that it would. This is not a skill I have myself. Musketeers use muskets and pistols, not bows, and I miss having range in my arsenal.

You intend to teach everyone yourself?

ii

[connorrk800]

Connor's boots scrape on the gravel of the yard as he walks over to Cade. He already has one of the practice bows slung over his shoulder, and has filled a quiver with blunted arrows. "Hello," he says pleasantly enough. Their last meeting got off to a shaky start, to say the least. He thinks it's best to elide it, if he can...

"I've been practicing archery in an... undisciplined fashion for the last few weeks," he begins. "When I heard about your class, I couldn't pass up the chance to learn." Warden Howe had shown him enough to get started, but had been on his own since.

I - open 2 threadjacking

[matchymatchy]

Of course she's early.

That doesn't mean she's helping, or at least, not by lugging things about. Someone needs to direct the construction, and if anyone dare suggest that might be Cade's job, or that of his charming elven assistant —

"Dear," She examines half a cup with one pointed nail. "Is this not all a bit of wasted clay?"

[redinside]

Very early in the morning, before the rising sun's yet had its chance to burn off the dew, before anyone else arrives to assist in setting up the range—before Cade himself has had a chance to get himself fully situated—three men move past a doorway leading out of the training area. Nothing unusual, that. There are men all over the Gallows, moving about at all hours. Women, too. But none of those mentioned have a voice quite like this one:

"Oi, Harimann."

There in the doorway, leaning into the opening, gripped about the shoulders and arms by two bored-looking Inquisition guards, is... a ghost! Well, no, but he's certainly pale enough for the part, and against this pallor his dark hair and his strange eyes look all the more dark and strange. He's wearing Inquisition-standard prison togs and his wrists are shackled together at his waist.

"Lookin' sharp," says this apparition from days gone by, before one of the men by his side grumbles, that'll do, and the pair of them usher him out of sight and on their way.