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Post by aspenivan on Nov 26, 2014 23:42:43 GMT
For the tournament's first event, the crowds were guided into a wooden amphitheaters surrounding a patches of open ground, marked only by a row of straw target dummies. In the grandest of these amphitheaters sat a special platform and tarp, in place of the center column and row of the rafters. This was the box of the Grand Vizier and his entourage, surrounded by standing imperial banners as well as flags held by standard-bearers. These soldiers wore the distinct cuirasses, bevors, and wide-brimmed helmets of the Byrnom Guard, elite infantry of the Grand Survaek Empire. Dozens more like them, armed with bardiches rather than flags, surrounded platform upon which now stood Ishui Seldu in his gold-embroidered black robes and headdress.
"I am blessed by Aed to welcome you all, fine fellow subjects of the Grand Survaek Empire, to the first round of the Grand Tournament of the North!" He paused to allow for cheers and applause, as well as to let his well-projected voice reverberate through the amphitheater. "As our first event, our seven distinguished contestants will compete in one of the most ancient of the warrior arts: Archery!" He did not mention the other amphitheaters: Their participants were nobodies ineligible for the grand prizes of the tournament. "May Aed forever bless the one who shows the greatest Mastery!" With that, Vizier Ishui sat back down; he would leave the finer details to the Lord Mayor.
The participants would stand in a row at a measured distance from the targets. Each would have three shots available and ten seconds to loose them. The area of the head from eye to eye and nose-bridge to forehead-top was worth the most points, followed by the heart, then the torso where lay the other vitals, and finally the arms and legs.
The contestant with the highest cumulative score would win the match. In the case of a tie, all those with lower scores would leave the field while the remainder engaged in a second round.
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Contestants
Alan Sarvo, Bronsyn of Dorn (Elon / Missmilkmaid)
Ikegami Naozumi, Ikegami Yukimura, Ikegami Himawari (Ikegami / ravigen)
Cathasach (Vaekirate / Zurajai)
Grand Admiral Selman Reyid (Empire / aspenivan)
Part 1: Each player post a short entry "introducing" their character(s) and noting their strategies (e.g. where they are aiming, tactics to distract opponents, etc.)
Part 2: Post only strategies.
This event will consist of 1-2 moderation marks.
For this and all coming events, all participating player must post within a day of the relevant modmark or face automatic defeat.
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Post by zurajai on Nov 27, 2014 1:26:28 GMT
Cathasach stood stock straight as the light breeze whipped at his robes, flapping them in the breeze as his hand slides across the edge of his ash flatbow, eyes dropped to the frame of the bow in silent prayer. With the end of the Vizier's speech Cathasach's thoughts turned to the action at hand. His decision was made as swiftly as one would blink: as a member of the Saighdeoir Order he had been trained to use his bow to deadly affect through swift, thoughtless shots. His goal was to fire his arrows swiftly, trusting the initial aim instead of foolishly keeping the bow up whilst he lined up the shot, only succeeding into tiring himself and letting his aim falter if he did. He would certainly not attempt to distract his opponents as others might, instead dropping himself into a meditative state as he was taught as a Warrior-Monk, focusing entirely on the target ahead of him.
His wings flitted through the air as he gauged windspeed, something commonly done by any Sylph who didn't want to crash to the ground mid-flight. Depending on the wind he'd change his aim, as he always did whilst flying, relying on his frequent midair archery to afford him experience with the shot. Most of all he would try for a direct shot, understanding well that a curved firing angle could play havoc on an arrow's flight path depending on the wind's will. With that he offered one more pray to Aed to see his arrow fly true and prepared for the three shots.
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Post by ravigen on Nov 27, 2014 4:51:12 GMT
Naozumi nodded to his children beside him, stretched his shoulders and checked the strings of his bow, the weight was a little lighter than he was used to but it would be easy enough to counterbalance the issue, He nodded to his son and took a good look at the target in front of him, he took his stance, feet shoulder-width apart and parallel to the shooting line, he exhaled and tucked his hips under his lower body to flatten his lower back while still stood up straight, forcing his shoulders down as he was taught by his own father when shooting and as he had done to his children. He drew and knocked an arrow, drawing back steadily, making sure his feet were anchored and weight distributed evenly before staring down at the target, before drawing back, taking aim and firing in one smooth motion, knowing better than to hold the bow in the drawn position.
Yukimura and Himawari, the twins, follow in their fathers footsteps, their movements mirrored almost perfectly as they set their stance, knock their arrows, draw and release towards the targets, taking aim for the head and heart of the makeshift man, in the stands dozens of Samurai watched cheering on their champions as loud as they could without becoming too obstructive.
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Post by missmilkmaid on Nov 27, 2014 4:58:22 GMT
Bronsyn could hardly believe he was here. He'd been born a bastard son and then run away from his middle of nowhere home when he was 13, wondering the wilderness and living on the mere edge of civilization ever since. There was nothing noble about who he was born, but he had recently earned a title for his work in the wastelands as a scout, ranger and a spy. After he'd successfully led and safely returned from multiple missions into the wilderness, including a few the Queen had especially requested of him, Chello had rewarded him with a title and even some lands on the edge of the frontier outside of Dorn.
For Bron, coming to Dovwynn at anytime was disconcerting. The days leading up t the tournament had been a confusing haze, with so many people and so many names and manners and expectations he didn't understand. He'd been so out of his element, dressed in unfamiliar clothes and surounded by stange faces and languages. Even if he had known all the social mores, he wasn't sure weather he should be presenting himself as the common ranger he's always been, or the noble Queen Chello had made of him. But with a bow in his hand, that was all behind him. This Bron understood.
For as long as Bron could remember, he'd relied on his bow for his day to day meals. He could shoot a dove out of the sky from 170 yards away. Drawing and shooting his bow were such a familiar motions to him, they came as easily and nearly as quickly as breathing. Compared to shooting orcs off of charging wargs, when your life and the lives around you depended upon it, or bringing down your only hope for dinner in two days. when it's flying hundreds of yards in the air, this tournament was laughably easy.
He didn't have to think about his posture, a shooting stance was normal to him. Feeling and judging the wind, (what little there was in this inclosure) was practically unconscious for him and the steady deep breath before the shots was almost a soothing feeling after the hectic socializing. When the time came, Bron raised his bow and fired all three arrows at space between his target's eyes, in a manner that made it appear the easiest task in the world.
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Compared to the rugged ranger beside him, Alan Sarvo appeared as the hight of civility. His family was the richest in Elon and Alan had always enjoyed dressing with the elegant fashions and bright colors of the elite. Today, however, he was dressed in black, a silver broaches holding a cape secure on his broad shoulders. His brown eyes were set in a serious, almost angry expression and he'd inherited the unusual Christallo height and strength from his mother. The rage and impact of his father's death at the hand of Gudrik Blood Dancer still hung around him creating an almost electric tension around him.
He'd spoken hardly at all since the duel, but he was channeling anger now, focusing his emotions in order to see with greater clarity every detail around him. In his head, he could still see the giant hammering a stake through his fathers heart and he held on to that, as he stood straight, took a deep steady breath and held it. He fired each of his arrows with methodic delivery. He aimed for the target's heart...
One.. two... three...
He released his arrows exactly within the time limit, his as movements as fluid and deliberate a hammer coming down on a stake. He didn't really care if he won this tournament, but a challenge and the precise focus archery took was a welcome distraction.
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Post by aspenivan on Nov 27, 2014 20:28:44 GMT
Selman Reyid had been the best shot of the Southern Tribes in his youth, one of the accomplishments that would launch his rise to fame and glory. Now, over seventy years old, he was a little unsure of whether the title still applied. But that didn't mean he couldn't show all of these half-rates a lesson or two in proper Survaekom Archery, an art the Prophet-Emperor had brought to the Byrnians and Raethonites centuries ago.
The Grand Admiral wore unusually simple dress, as anyone who knew him would remark. For this occasion, he had donned the garb of a Southern Tribal pastoralist noble, hides and furs and a black fur cap. After taking stance, he proceeded in the age-old Survaekom fashion: He grasped the string with his thumb -which bore the traditional thumb-ring-, using his index and middle fingers only to reinforce this grip by wrapping around the stronger digit. Careful neither to tire his arm nor loose without aiming, he stayed at full draw for a calculated half-second before releasing his first arrow towards the unfortunate mannequin's head.
__________
No one was surprised, though many were still impressed, by the unique grace of the warrior-monk among the archers. His arrows, released in quick but smooth succession, lodged into the straw in a straight upward line: First in the stomach, second in the heart, third right between the eyes.
The Ikegami Lord also gave a commendable performance, with all three arrows in the chest including one just left of the heart. But the great surprise for the onlookers was the daimyo's son Yukimura, who landed two shots less than an inch apart in the heart with one erring only a little too far to the right. The young man's stance and calm were like an unexpected sculpture of beauty where they had only expected hovels and bushes. His sister, unfortunately, did not perform so well: Her first shot missed outright, the next stuck into the target's hand by what seemed like sheer luck, and only the third shot flew properly and landed in the abdomen.
Bronsyn of Dorn's performance was the reverse of the unsuccessful Ikegami twin. His first shot landed magnificently in the mannequin's heart, only for the other two to fly unexpectedly off-course. Perhaps bird-hunting had figured too prominently in his thoughts, because both of these arrows curved unusually high. Alan Sarvo managed to land all of his shots, but overall did little better than the other Elonese noble. Two arrows in a lung and one in the gut would surely stop any enemy, but it was not the stuff of true champions.
Finally, the Grand Admiral showed that there was substance behind his claims of master archery, but not quite enough to match his Vaekirate counterpart or the surprise underdog from the far North. His first shot flew just a little too high, curving down into the top of the head rather than straight into the forehead. An impressive shot, nonetheless. The next two were very impressive but unusual, both piercing through the straw soldier's neck and causing its head to hang at a disturbing angle. After some debate, the judges would decide that the neck-shots were nearly as worthy as the heart, but they would not look as favorably upon the head-shot (which, in battle, would surely have grazed off the enemy's helmet).
In the end, the judges announced that first place was a tie between Cathasach and Ikegami Yukimura. Grand Admiral Selman Reyid had managed to score third place, just ahead of Daimyo Ikegami Naozumi, who received an honorable mention. The rest were too far behind to be worth commenting on.
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-- Proceed to Part 2: Tiebreaker between Cathasach (Zurajai) and Ikegami Yukimura (ravigen).
-- Grand Admiral Selman Reyid wins Third Place Medallion.
-- Ikegami Naozumi wins Honorable Mention Brooch.
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Post by ravigen on Nov 28, 2014 5:54:41 GMT
Yukimura steadied his nerves with the ease of one who had practiced doing so over and over again, he had been pleasantly surprised and pleased with his performance, a tie was not what he had expected but he nodded at the Vizier's words and took aim at the target again, he took the moment to turn and bow to the Sylph next to him, the man was an excellent and talented archer and win or lose he was proud to have competed with him.
"Best of luck to you."
Then he turned his attention back to the target, took a deep breath, got into his stance, knocked his arrow, took aim, exhaled and released, repeating the process and doing his best to focus on the target, in the distance he could hear cheers from his family and fellow Samurai and resolved not to disappoint them. |
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Post by zurajai on Nov 29, 2014 3:44:57 GMT
Cathasach returns the bow pleasantly, lips pulled back in a toothless smile as he nods towards Yukimura in silent thanks for his encouragement. His grip tightened around the handle of his bow as he stepped forward, turning to look down the range at the targets. A thought passed through his head to use his Saighdeoir skills before deciding against it. Instead he would simply do as he did last time. If Aed would have him win, then he would: if not than there was nothing to do but accept and lose with dignity. His wings flitted gently again to detect the winds movement, praying quietly once more before taking up his stance, drawing back, and firing in one swift, calm motion.
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Post by aspenivan on Nov 29, 2014 4:36:23 GMT
Ikegami Yukimura's loosed his first two shots expertly, each arrow landing squarely in his mannequin's chest. But then, something went wrong: Instead of sailing in the same arc as the last two, the young samurai's last shot fell embarrassingly short as his family looked on in shock. The arrow didn't even make it to the target; it hit nothing but grass and dirt.
The sylph monk, on the other hand, struggled with his first shot, which lodged itself in the straw soldier's shoulder, but succeeded magnificently with the next two. In a phenomenon rarely seen at such events, Cathasach's third arrow split the second in half, right between the eyes of his target.
There was no question of the winner today.
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-- Ikegami Yukimura wins Second Place Medallion
-- Cathasach wins FIRST PLACE MEDALLION!
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