Ceres Uppsala: The Shield Maiden. (maidenofshields) wrote in emillion, @ 2014-02-05 09:29:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !log, ceres uppsala, gillian goodwin |
So many times I've tried, But was unable.......
Who: Ceres & Gillian
What: Target Practice
Where: Shieldwyrm Hall
When: Today
Rating: PG?
Status: Complete!
Her mother was an archer. In fact, her skills had earned her a place amongst the riders, and that meant Ceres had a lot to live up to. The fact that she was four years into class, and had only really mastered one or two skills at this point was disappointing, and while her mother would never say it, it was clear the older woman found it silently unacceptable that her only daughter seemed unable to master the basics of marksmanship without any particular speed. Even if the former KingsGuard knew the reason that her slow progress was due to, it didn’t make it any better or easier in the long run. Spell work was something she had a natural affinity for, her spells being strong, but they took a fair amount of time to learn, and that detracted from her ranged combative skills. While aiming was the same, and both came naturally enough, aiming a gunblade, and aiming a spell were two entirely different beasts of burden. Sometimes, it was easier to practice with someone who was facing similar challenges within their mutually shared class than it was to not. Other days when the older woman seemed to be picking up skills faster than Ceres could manage, it was more frustrating than not. Hopefully, today would be the earlier of the two options was all the Ranger could think as she’d made her way out to the appropriate range. At least Gillian - while a force to be reckoned with while out with her squadron - didn’t seem a person likely to pass judgement while training. That at least, was something Ceres could manage to be thankful for. Gillian herself had quite a long ways to go before masting this particular skill class. Relatively new to archery, especially in comparison to her other combat abilities, she had managed to pick up the basics with relative ease. As for everything beyond that, she knew, it was all simply a matter of practice and learning from the other archers. It was difficult at times, and she could admit as much to herself, but there weren’t any regrets to be had for her choice. In fact, as she took up her allotted space at the guild practice range, Gillian had found the challenge rather refreshing. And unlike her hours spent with the Black Lions, she was not bound to the duties and responsibilities of leadership here. Just a warrior with a bow and a quiver of arrows, the woman took her time and allowed herself to enjoy the brief solace of training--until another archer approached. Relaxing her weapon slightly, Gillian looked over to assess who also had come around the range that day. “Uppsala,” she called out in welcome, giving a nod to the familiar Ranger. A brief respectful nod was offered in return to the other woman. “Goodwin.” Each times Ceres spoke the name, it always made her think of armor. That family had been known for some time to be reliable regulars of such goods, and with that notion brought back, there would need to be a visit there soon. Her own suit - while mostly still intact - was better to be checked and handled appropriately before any issue could ever possibly arise. Stepping back, a target down the range was gestured towards before a roll of her shoulders was given, an attempt to loosen up, to assure that familiar twinge in her shoulder didn’t come back. “Barrage?” It was a skill they had in common that both needed to work on. It seemed a good enough place to start unless… “Or compete?” It’d been a while since they’d tested their skill against one another. Gillian eyed the target the other woman had gestured toward. The idea of a competition had quickly sparked her interest--there were few ways to encourage self-improvement that proved better than competition. She wondered how long it had been since they’d last had the chance for it, and how much Uppsala had managed to improve in that time. She’d gotten a glimpse of the woman’s combat skills a number of times in the past, and while the two differed in many ways, the desire to master a diverse range of abilities was something they shared. “Name your terms,” she said, allowing the Ranger to devise the rules of the competition. While she had already spent her share of time at the range that day, she easily decided that she could spare a short while for this at least. “Series of target spots. Closest shot wins?” It seemed an easy measure of success. “Head first.” Raising up the gunblade she gestured towards the targets direction, an outline of a man a ways ahead of them both. Yet, no shots would be fired. It wasn’t a proper competition if she began before the terms were even agreed upon. Besides, it was best to outline these things slowly so that the speed knight could measure the impact on her body. It had been some time since her injury, but that didn’t stop it from occasionally flaring up. The thought was frustrating enough alone for her to want to destroy something, but it wouldn’t do any good to lose her cool here. Gillian gauged the distance and the target Uppsala was pointing toward. A simple enough competition, she thought, but it would serve them both well to participate. Much more than continuing on under normal terms, at least, and so the mercenary nodded her head in assent. She knew her own odds here--Ceres had more years on her in this class, and by right, she wagered, would have the upper hand. But the thought didn’t dissuade her and, in fact, urged her on even more. “Agreed,” she said, regaining her grip on the bow and arrow and her former stance. She waited for the other woman to get into position and offered something akin to a wolfish grin. “First shot’s yours.” A brief nod of her head was given in the other woman’s direction to confirm her agreement, and with a narrowing of her eyes Ceres quickly raised her Gunblade, leveling it but not completely checking the aim as she should have before her finger jerked back on the trigger. The shot set loose, and flew across the field, ripping into the side of the target’s head. If they would have been in a real battle, it likely wouldn’t had done much more than open a gash across her enemy’s face. With a frown pulling at her lips at the miserable results from the shot, Ceres stepped back, lowering her gunblade and gesturing for the other woman to take her turn. It was a shit shot, and the speed knight knew it. Clearly, she was in need of far more practice than she’d previously thought. Gillian wasn’t a young and cocksure squire, and had nothing to say about the shot but a thoughtful hum as the mercenary gauged the results--not bad, but not perfect either. Her turn now, and she raised her bow with a confident arm and readied her aim. Mind cleared of distractions, she loosed her arrow and the projectile went plunging into the target’s head. Not entirely on the mark as well, but it was closer than the bullet had been. “Not bad,” she said, looking on appraisingly. “For the first round.” Feeling more confident in her abilities, but not about to claim absolute victory just yet, Gillian nodded at the other archer and prepared herself for round two. “Tch.” Was the only response Ceres could muster, clearly being far more critical of her own shot than the other woman cared to admit. However, that was not the end of the competition yet, and with the first round over, there was only room for a series of challenges to be laid out. With the next upon them, the speed knight would gesture to the target’s chest, the idea was to aim for the heart. Striking in quick, and deadly accuracy was beneficial for any fighter on the field, and neither of them was an exception. The round after, the target would be the ‘enemy’s’ hand, and so on. As each archer continued on, their respective weapons in hand, they’d trade score time, and again, each hitting the target, but upping the ante with each round passed. In the end, they’d come out even, each having won three rounds apiece. Mouth pulled into a firm line as Ceres eyed the target, a rotation of her wrist would help to sheath the Gunblade. “Good challenge.” Was all Ceres would offer as a form of congratulations, as she attempted to stomach - what she perceived - as her own loss. Kneeling down, the empty bullet shells would be scooped up from where they had been kicked out of the gunblade chamber, and the speed knight would wordlessly make her way away from the range. She’d failed today, and the displeasure with her skill would be obvious from the mood she radiated on the way out. |