Training Ground
The training ground of the Tirith Imladhrim is a broad lawn, its once-verdant expanse now turned now to a snowfield. The southern half is dedicated to the practice of archery, the great skill of the Eldar: there rests upon the southeast corner a multitude of targets of a bullseye design. At the other corner--the southwest corner--is the firing line, and also a barrel of practice arrows. Through the center of the field running east-west is the meadow path; east is the bright guardhouse, and to the west is the armoury complex. Another path runs southwards to the Imladris stables. At the northern end of the field are many dummies of straw, fit to practice bladework upon.
Around the edges of the field, tribunes have been erected and many banners fly from long poles, high above the ground; past them tower many trees, a thick forest crowned with glistening white. Rising above all are the cliffs of the valley wall, looming to the north.
Contents:
Haldir
Elrond
Eledurima
Galrohad
Nauthcel
Halamoth
Lominhur
Barafinnel
Halbarad
Kylin
Thileithel
Maglind
Sidhel
Duinlas
Ellach Squad
Elentiri Guard
Ethiriath Squad
Magor Squad
Cuthalion Squad
Rochonnath Squad(#13265VaehtM)
Rochonnath o Nevrast
Archery Targets(#10859V)
Straw Dummy
Obvious exits:
North leads to Guard House.
South leads to Wheat fields.
The sun has risen to its apex and begins the slow descent to the west. But its brilliant golden shine reflects brightly off the snow. A brilliant sparkling display of light and reflection is on the field this afternoon. A large portion of snow has been cleared away and bare, frozen, brown turf laid to the sun. At the far end of the field stand several archery targets. But they are exquistely crafted wooden targets, carved of soft wood and painted in bright colors by the artisans of the Valley. Large banners billow softly in the gentle breeze and display the standards of all the houses of Imladris. A set of seats has been placed to the side and behind the point of the archers. A great many elves have always simply brought blankets to sit upon the snow. A raised dais sits behind the normal seating to allow more to sit and watch from the superior position.
The Elves of the Cuthalion and Ethiriath Squads work around the area of the archery range, preparing for the coming event. They are the elite of the Cuniriath of Imladris, the long-range death by arrow that keeps the Valley's foes at bay from secret blinds hidden to all but Elvish eyes.
One of the Ethiriath is not amongst the others, his garb the casual wear of the elves though somewhat warmer for these winter months. Barafinnel is amongst the crowd now, one of the waiting participants, a silvery longbow in hand. Presently he watches the banners flapping overhead, keen ears perked attentively for the start of the event.
In one of the seats behind the archers sits Kylin. With cloak wrapped tightly, arms crossed over his chest, he watches and waits for the start of the competition to begin.
A Ranger makes his way into the training grounds, the snow crunching beneath his heavy, mortal stride as he moves up, longbow across his back, his lips pursed into a somewhat grim expression. Talbinor glances around at the growing crowd of archers and voyeurs, stretching the fingers in his hands out in front of him as he heads towards one of the chairs.
Longbow and string are removed from his back, and Talbinor idly strings his weapon for today as he sits down upon the chair, looking out at the targets. His grim expression does not fade in the least, even as he pays more attention to stringing his longbow properly than he would be likely to even in the heat of battle.
The Arferedir Duinlas kneels near the mark of the contestants, his longbow is strung tautly and rests across his knee. He looks down the field and narrows his eyes. A look of concentration on his usually jolly face.
Softly, suddenly, a hand falls upon Kylin's shoulder from behind him. "Good day," says Lominhur cheerfully as he angles into the other's view. "Come to watch the skill of the firstborn?"
A cloaked figure sits alone in the snow, restlessly fiddling with the unstrung ends of his longbow. Maglind raises his head and glances around patiently.
The range is not prepared as the few who will be manning the targets take cover and the other archers move to the side. Some few of their numbers join the crowd while others join the dignitaries of the Tirith who wait to see the coming event.
There is more than one -- more than three -- Men here today, whether to watch or to challenge the skill of the Firstborn. Among them is Halbarad who stands apart from those who have come to watch -- and he watches them, eyes of silver-grey alight with the afternoon sun.
He also bears a bow unstrung, and leans lightly -- lazily -- on it.
With a quick, startled, turn of his head, Kylin's features soften as he sees that the owner of the hand and voice is the one called Rush . "I have, and you? Are you going to participate," he says with a wave of his hand to where the contestants ready "or shall you just observe as well?"
From the wheat field comes Halamoth, who is dressed in his traveling clothes. He steps lightly upon the snow until he reaches the hardened floor of the training grounds. Rather swiftly his attention moves to the Men who prepare to loose their arrows, and then he diverts his attention to the best area for him to get a clear view of the event. Rather calmly he draws closer.
A fanfare is sounded and from behind the targets emerges the herald who had also announced the sword dueling. Sidhel steps before the crowd and he declares: "Let now the tournament of this year's Congress continue! Archery shall be today's discipline. Hear the rules, Cunirath from near and wide: Two archers shall each shoot four arrows at their targets until all have stood before a target once! After that, the rings are compared and the two best archers shall shoot a special duel," he announces. "For those two, the targets will be removed and disks of dried clay will randomly be thrown into the air. True skill can then be displayed while trying to shoot the most disks down. Thus the Master Archer of the Four Realms shall be determined!"
"Me?" asks Rush of Kylin, and he grins. "Aye, I am here to watch only, for I have no skill with such things. I should perhaps learn sometime, but I find my blade much easier to use when waylaid by bandits." He then quietens as Sidhel makes his declarations; his gaze slipping to Talbinor and Halbarad.
Overhearing Rush due to his and Kylin's relatively close proximity, Talbinor turns around in his seat towards the fellow-Ranger, glancing up at him with a small smile. "My skill as an archer is insignificant, I assure you," he says, plucking at the bowstring in a rather needless test of its tensile strength. "Regardless, as I missed the chance to test my blade, I hope to display my martial might in some regard."
Talbinor does not much turn and hear the rules, although he does nod appreciatively at one point, befores standing up out of his chair and pacing through the snow, crushing the soft flakes into a hard surface as he walks in small circles, waiting for the competition to begin.
"Hmm.. disks of clay.." Halamoth repeats softly. He taps his chin, then draws his longbow from a quiver that is arranged to hold it and steps forward up to the line. For now his arrows remain where they are, stifly placed inside the quiver. "Greetings friends!" he says in a deep, but gentle voice. He finds himself a place upon the line and waits.
"And bandits do waylay many these days. I am sure that your sword teaches them the folly of their deeds." Kylin's own gaze follows that of Rush's. Falling on the two men that are part of the contestants. After the rules are announced he says "Your," he pauses, lips pressed together "fellows are taking part. What think you, they have something to show the Firstborn?"
"Ahh, modesty...such a refreshing thing these days," Kylin says to the departing Talbinor before he gives Rush a quick glance. Only then does he turn back to watch the contest.
Sidhel strides then forward to join the archers. A helper hands him his own strongbow and a quiver and again the trumpets call out to announce the judges of this event: the most senior archers of the Tirith Imladhrim. In line they walk up to a seperate dais where they take their seats. The tournament can begin!
One of the judges calls out: "May Orome watch over this tourney! And may your eyes and hands prove their skills today. Who will be the first two archers?" Inquisitively the old edhel looks at the competitors.
"An interesting contest indeed," says Barafinnel softly with a chuckle in his mellow voice. He moves forwards to join the other participants, looking slowly over them and adjusting the bracer on his left wrist. As a call is made out he lifts a hand to make his prescence known. "I shall, should no others wish to go first!"
A slow nod follows the rules as Duinlas unfolds his legs and stands tall. Eyes going to each of the others and a smile crossing his face now. His long delicate fingers slide over his bow as he keeps it clear of the ground.
At Sidhel's announcement, Halbarad remains where he stands, eyes skimming the others gathered and wasting no breath to hasten forward.
Both hands yet on his unstrung bow, he waits with the land's own patience for others to take up the contest.
Carefully does Maglind string his longbow, shouldering it and rising to come near the starting line.
"Show is not the word," replies Rush, "for I deem there is nothing to prove to these goodly folk. However, they may well offer a surprise. And aye," he adds then with a smile to Kylin, "I teach what manners I can with my blade. It can be most effective. What of you? Have you any skills with any of these tools?"
As the contestants filter forward, Talbinor shrugs to himself, and almost whimsically steps up to join the volunteers, planting his longbow at his feet, standing shoulderwidth apart and, now that the moment is finally coming, looking ready.
The judges wait solemnly for those going first to go first...
"I shall also fire first!" Halamoth proclaims when no others volunteer. He looks to the judges, and then to Barafinnel, and says, "Good luck!" Afterwards he faces the target and prepares to fire an arrow..
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Halamoth has taken 1/4 turns.
A polite smile is given to Halamoth as Barafinnel turns and positions himself in front of a target. Gripping the bow firmly at its center, the young Silvan nocks an arrow from the quiver from his shoulder, drawing back the bow and releasing it.
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Barafinnel has taken 1/4 turns.
A shrug, a smile, are Kylin's first response to Rush's question "I am able to defend my self, no more." He tilts his chin to those that are going to take part "Nothing, I am sure, compared to those that take the field this day."
Then as there are the two first contestants "Deadly accurate are those of the Firstborn. I have witnessed their skills on another type of field. This should prove very interesting."
As another volunteers to be first in the range and the initial places are filled, Halbarad raises his bow above his shoulders and stretches.
But his eyes do not leave the contestants.
Halamoth swiftly draws and arrow and looses it from the string only a moment afterwards! It strikes the middle ring and Halamoth laughs softly. "What a fair game! I do believe that I killed yonder target, for it does not move." He chuckles softly, then draws back an arrow, in the same manner as before, and quickly fires while only taking a moment to aim.
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Halamoth has taken 2/4 turns.
Another arrow is nocked from Barafinnel's quiver, though this one he spends some time fidgetting with. Adjusting the fletch, positioning it just so. Then his index and center fingers wrap around the fine bowstring and he draws it back, resting the arrow's fletching against his cheekbone before releasing.
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Barafinnel has taken 2/4 turns.
A slight murmur of encouragement escapes from Duinlas's lips as he watches Halamoth take a bullseye.
Sidhel looks at the contestants with much interest. And from not too far he overhears the conversation of the secondborn. "Interesting it shall be, no doubt," he says to Kylin while turning his head towards them. "But not... Aiya! A grand shot," he exclaims and flicks his gaze back to the targets as Halamoth's second arrow hits the mark.
Maglind stands on the tips of his toes, peering over the heads of the crowd to see the competition.
Whistling in appreciation at the fine shots thus far, Rush grins and nudges an elbow towards Kylin. "It seems they will take some beating. I should hate to give them a reason to send their shafts after me. I do hope they never consider me an enemy..."
Halamoth laughs deeply, quite amused. "I once struck a knot in a tree from twenty leagues away! The knot told me my form was awful." He draws yet another arrow, and releases it even more swiftly than before.
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Halamoth has taken 3/4 turns.
"So it would seem wrong," agrees the Silvan softly, allowing a chuckle. His shaft does not hit as cleanly as Halamoth's, though nor does it miss the target. Discerningly eyeing this he takes another arrow and rests it on the shaft, drawing back the bowstring once more and taking his time in sighting.
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Barafinnel has taken 3/4 turns.
The judges see the tie and wait for the final volleys...
Talbinor twists his longbow about in his grip, carving a small hole in the snow beneath his feet. The perfect shot shot from Barafinnel draws a bushy brown eyebrow up Talbinor's forehead and he nods in appreciation, but he seems little less impressed by the general high accuracy. "Let none impugn the accuracy of Imladris's archers!" he says, rolling back onto his heels, his eyes focused on the shooters.
"A fine shot," says Kylin, clapping, as the center is hit "Nor I, Rush, nor I," he says from the side of his mouth as he watches the arrows stuck in the target.
"My, what stroke that was!" Halamoth replies, laughing as his opponent draws so near to the center. "Let us hope we do not split each other's arrows, friend!" He draws back his bow for the final time and releases, though he takes little time to aim.
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 65
Halamoth has taken 4/4 turns.
Still the Dunedain's Captain watches -- and after the third shot, he begins an easy stroll toward the others. In silence, a gentle smile dances in his eyes to belie otherwise his solemnity.
And as they prepare to take the fourth, he kneels to string his bow--
--looking up in time to catch Halamoth's bull's eye. "Oh, fair shot!" says he.
"Difficult this will be, Halamoth," chuckles Barafinnel gently again. Lifting out the final arrow for this round. Drawing it to, he releases the shaft. A whir of feathers...and then...
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Barafinnel has taken 4/4 turns.
...A resounding 'thwack' as the final arrow hits.
His attention now fully drawn to the performance of the unlike pair, ancient Sinda and young Silvan, Sidhel intently follows the shooting. "Amazing," he murmurs as Halamoth strikes the center again." Raising his voice, he calls out: "That very tree should be here and watch you today, Halamoth, and it would think different of your form!"
Duinlas leans back on his heels, a slight look of disappointment to see Barafinnel miss the final shot and fall behind Halamoth, but he gives a smile and shakes his head, speaking to those around him, "It looks as if all have come very prepared for today."
The judges rise and those who are attending the targets come out from hiding. The arrows' placement is examined a signal is sent back to the judge by the two contestants. He calls out in a clear voice, "In the first round, Halamoth leads with 65 points. Barafinnel follows with 60! Let the second pair come forward."
"A fine bout!" Halamoth observes suddenly. "What is your name, friend? If songs were sung of tournaments our arrows would inspire great verses, at least until our scores were beaten!" He laughs merrily, then approaches Barafinnel. Turning, Halamoth says, "I am sure it would!" to Sidhel.
As the final two shots are tallied and scored, assistants clear away the used targets, bringing in fresh ones to take their place.
"Barafinnel," chuckles the young ellon with a light bow, tucking his bow beneath one arm and now moving away from the firing range of the targets. "Of Imladris. And yourself? I would think honestly that we should see some great manner of skill this day!"
Duinlas strides forward at the call, "Well there is little reason to go first or last, so I will go now in the middle," he says in a lilting voice of song. His longbow gleaming with a freshly applied shine.
"And finely did they shoot!" calls Halbarad as he steps forward -- and his praise is honest, offered with a quiet smile. Toward Sidhel, then, he lifts his bow. "I shall."
"Now then," smiles Lominhur to Kylin, pointing out towards the older Ranger, "this fellow is one to watch. A fine archer, and just as skilled with a blade. A fearsome foe to wrongdoers, so I hear..."
Talbinor applauds Barafinnel and Halamoth complete their shooting, and applauds some more as two new competitors boldly step forth. "Hopefully, the Captain shall relieve me from the strain of having to represent the Rangers in the final round," he says, leaning forward on his bow slightly so it bends just a bit beneath his weight. He watches this round rather more intensely than the last, left fingers twisting a little bit as if rolling an imaginary arrow between them.
Maglind steps to intercept Barafinnel, longbow dangling loosely from his hand as he calls cheerfully, "Mellon. I see your skill with the bow surpasses even your skill with the sword!"
Sidhel grins as the two stride forward to the line and he replies to Halbarad: "Would you mind if I asked you to leave this place to me? I would very much love to compare my skills to those of my friend Duinlas."
Kylin sits back and crosses his arms across his chest once again as two new contestants step forward. He cuts a brief glance at Rush, then back to the two does he look "So you hear...yes." He smiles "I shall watch closely to this then, see if your words ring true, Rush."
"Hal of the Wild and Duinlas of the Valley, shoot straight with strength, friends." The judges clear the way and the attendants seek cover and when all is prepared, the lead judge nods, the signal to proceed.
A soft sigh comes from Duinlas as Halbarad steps next to him, "Oh, splendid company for me. What do you say, captain, but a bottle per bullseye?" he asks the Ranger in a loud voice for all to hear. Then drawing up his longbow he takes his first shot on his target.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Duinlas has taken 1/4 turns.
"But then the judges may not have it," muses Sidhel and steps back.
Booted, light elven footsteps pull up short as Maglind steps in front of Barafinnel. The red-haired Silvan gives a laugh, winking once at him. "And yet I've need of so much more practice," he admits softly, though his lips pull upwards into a grin. "I thank you for your compliment, mellon! Will you be shooting today?"
"Halamoth Stormfoot of Doriath, Harlindon, and Mithlond," he replies, bowing slightly in return. "Yes, I also believe we shall. There is rumor of a Man having great skill with the bow, and I wish to watch each Man this day, and also the Firstborn! Let us go to the stands." Halamoth walks to a place where he might watch.
With a quick suck of his teeth, Lominhur's eyes flit to Sidhel, and he regards the elf thoughtfully a moment or two. He then looks back to the target to see the first shot and he chuckles. "I have a feeling they shall ring true indeed. After all, I am hardly one to lie, now am I?"
Sidhel's request draws the Captain's brow into an arch -- and draws from him also a moment's pause.
But it is but a moment.
"Of course," he grants, and steps back, calling to the judge -- "Let this one take Hal's place -- I shan't come between friends."
The head judge nods and Sidhel's name is inserted.
Sidhel bows to the Man and to then to the judges. "Very well, mellon," he addresses Duinlas. "A bottle per bullseye it shall be. But you lead now." With that he draws and arrow from the quiver, nocks it and releases.
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Sidhel has taken 1/4 turns.
Kylin still watches the pair that have taken center stage "No...no you haven't, Rush. I did not mean to say otherwise," he then looks to the man "I hope that my manner of speech did not seem to suggest you have or do?"
"Always a pleasure to see friends shoot against each other," Talbinor says with a smile to nobody in particular, easing up on his bow-leaning now that it's just two elves shooting for each other. "Particularly when they are skilled marksmen." Two arrows to the inner ring draw an appreciative nod from the Ranger.
"No lead for long, it seems, mellon. But perhaps it is the cold affecting the arrows. A drafty wind down the field. The flapping of lips from the stands. All these I hold blame for deprieving me of a bottle of wine!" Duinlas exclaims. His hands resting on his hips before he lifts his bow up again and takes a second shot, the sound of his draw almost musical as he hums a fair note upon release.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Duinlas has taken 2/4 turns.
A grin upon his face, Barafinnel finds himself a place to sit amongst the spectators. Longbow is rested over his knees and he toys with the string now and then, watching Sidhel and Duinlas's contest with interest.
"Perhaps," answers Maglind to Barafinnel's question, turning back to the targets and the Elves who shoot at them.
"Excuses," teases Sidhel with a grin. "You might need those, but let us see if I would have to justify my form in the end." Again he set a shaft to the bowstring and takes aim for but the bit of a second. The bow sings, the arrow flies!
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Sidhel has taken 2/4 turns.
"Nay," answers Rush to Kylin, and he rests his hand upon the man's shoulder anew, "you have not. I was merely spouting. Now, this is a turn up, and no mistake. I wonder who of these two friends will gain the upper hand...'
"It is no excuse but an observation of our noisy fans who speak with such gusto to cause my own shots to deviate!" Duinlas replies, taking another arrow from his quiver and staring down at the targets. This time he pauses a bit before loosing his next shot.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Duinlas has taken 3/4 turns.
Removed of his place -- and yet, he seems unphased for it, for a quiet smile remains in Captain's silver-grey eyes -- Halbarad watches this bout. "Aye, brother," says he lightly to Talbinor. "Though I shan't shoot against you -- my shoulders still ache from the masquerade."
Hearing Duinlas's criticism, Talbinor calls out, "I beg your pardon, good sir!" in an intentionally over-loud voice with a small smile as soon as the arrow is safely away from his bow. But as said arrow drives into the bullseye Talbinor rocks back on his heels into the snow a bit and nods at once. "Though with shooting like that, perhaps more shouting would drive you to victory!"
The Captain's words gets Talbinor to turn towards the fellow-Ranger, and he nods with a small smile on his face. "Between your shoulders and my shoddy marksmanship, we could make a great display for the Rangers. A shame Rush shall not compete; he at least is healthy!"
"Noisy they are," admits Sidhel. "But can you ignore them? That is the trait of the archer that he forgets all around him but the target." He briefly inspects the bowstring, then he pulls another arrow from the quiver. Swiftly the new missile is then send on its way.
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Sidhel has taken 3/4 turns.
"A shame indeed," agrees Halbarad with a glance over his shoulder toward the spectators -- and as his eyes land on Rush and Kylin, a brow arches.
But he does not call out.
Rush cannot fail to hear Talbinor's words, and he laughs out as soon as Sidhel's arrow is loosed. "Healthy perhaps, but a poor marksman. I would not embarass us Menfolk in such a way."
Halamoth sits quiet while the archers take aim, but cheers when each arrow strikes the target. "A center each!" he calls, somewhat enthused, before growing silent again and waiting for the final shots.
"How can I forget when there is wine riding on each shot?" Duinlas says exasperatedly, staring at a bullseye to match his own. He draws back another arrow and looses it toward his target with a swift motion.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 55
Duinlas has taken 4/4 turns.
"That is good to hear," Kylin responds softly after hearing the words from Duinlas, and chuckles. When the arrows fly, and the thud of them striking the distant target the man nods "Another fine shot. I would be so lucky to even strike the outer edges. "It seems that that one has taken the lead. Yet another arrow to go."
Even when Hal looks their way, he keeps his attention - so it would seem - onto the archers.
"And you shall provide the wine, I suppose," says Sidhel with amusement riding upon his words. He ponders which arrow to chose from the quiver, but not long and he has found one that seems suited. With a fluid movement he then combines nocking, drawing, aiming and releasing to send this last arrow towards the target.
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Sidhel has taken 4/4 turns.
The judges trot down the field as attendants appear. Arrows are measured, placement is judged and signals are sent even as the attendants change the targets now for the next pair.
The lead judge calls out clearly, "Halamoth, sixty-five; Barafinnel and Sidhel, sixty; Duinlas, fifty-five. The game is afoot. Who will step forward next?" He looks to Halbarad again even as the attendants finish their work and all clear the field once more.
His shake of the head, "Almost, mellon Sidhel, almost. But our bullseyes countered each other, and so we will have to settle the bottle count another time," Duinlas replies as he strides away from the contestant's mark, "A bad day for me, it seems."
"Unless another likes this place more," replies Halbarad with a quiet smile, stepping forward once more and casting his eyes about the others as though in honest question, "I shall."
Barafinnel laughs and claps his head as the second round finishes. "Well done!" he calls, grinning to himself. So far, he may not have the highest score, but he has made the best mark!
"Might as well," mutters Maglind quietly, pushing his way through the crowd. He steps near the shooting-mark, waving a hand to the judges. "If I may?"
"Care for a wager?" asks Lominhur of Kylin as Halbarad steps forth. "I back Hal to take the contest, would you disagree?"
"Maglind of the Sindar and Hal of the Wild!" The lead judge nods, giving both the go-ahead to begin.
"Who would you favor, Rush? One is of your party, the other a guest," Kylin says as he turns to face with a smile. "And what would be the wager?"
"Ah, you take one of your party...then so be it. I shall take the Firstborn, gladly," Kylin says as he turns to face with a smile. "And what would be the wager?"
Halamoth claps and cheers, then grows quiet and turns his attention forward. He smiles as the first of the Men step forward, and then he grows quiet and still.
Kylin chuckles "An oath...now wouldn't that depend on the oath that you would propose before I accept it?"
"Still we shall have wine tonight," replies Sidhel to his friend. "I have gotten a bottle of wine from Dorwinion from the Ndaedeldhrim, mind you. This we shall sample tonight," he says. Then he looks at the newly arrived competitors at the line. "An interesting pairing," he finds.
Long strides carrying him easily to the mark, the cleaner of the Rangers draws an arrow and fits it to his bow -- but does not shoot quite yet.
"Pray, friend," he indicates to Maglind in the same tongue, "Take the first."
Lominhur chuckles and grins to Kylin, nodding. "Indeed, it would. And so I name the oath to be inclusion in the contests. I wish to hear you sing of your travels before us all. And, what oath would you have me make, should Hal fare less well than I think?"
Appeared in Barafinnel's hand, from somewhere or another, is an acorn. With a slight mischievous gleam in his eye, the young Silvan works it over his fingers, intent upon the next round unfolding.
"My thanks," replies Maglind, carefully drawing a grey-fletched arrow from his quiver, "and apologies, for unlike the previous pair I have no wine. Nor anything else worth wagering."
With a rueful grin the Elf nocks, draws, and fires his first shaft at the painted targets.
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Maglind has taken 1/4 turns.
Kylin laughs "Me, sing...I fear that if I were to do so the Firstborn would come running to see what manner of an animal would in in such suffering. Perhaps we could do this," Kylin says as he taps a finger on his chin "I would tell a tale of my travels to the most distant place I have been to should I loose and you shall do the same should you?
"Nor have I," replies Halbarad softly, but only after Maglind has taken his shot, and then--
"Well fired!"
Fingers wrap lightly around the string of his own bow then and he pauses to sight the target, then lets loose.
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Halbarad has taken 1/4 turns.
"Oh!" murmurs Barafinnel with a surprised blink as Halbarad's shot hits the dead center of the target. He blinks again, then gives an abrupt laugh. "I can no longer claim the best shot!"
Gasps are heard from the crowd as the first two shots are not well placed, but rather very well placed. Spontaneous applause erupts.
Talbinor lifts his eyebrow bemusedly as the first shot strikes home. "Very good," he murmurs to himself under his breath, still playing with his longbow in the snow. Then, more conversationally, "My concerns are increasingly moving from whether I shall be first in this contest to whether I shall be last." But Halbarad's precise hit in follow-up causes Talbinor to take a little step back, then simply chuckle.
"I fear you may have to scale your bet down," Talbinor calls over towards Kylin and Lominhur. "On both counts. For it appears there will be a tremendous duel of archery in this pair."
Duinlas applauds first for Maglind and then even harder for Halbarad, "It is fortunate I did not go against either of those two, I would be having a deficit in wine, I think."
Sighing as if disappointed, Lominhur nevertheless nods his head to Kylin. "That is not the fullness of my hope, but it is better than aught. Very well, I accept." Turning to look then at the two excellent shots go flying in, he grins. "This will be a close wager."
"That is... remarkable," murmurs Sidhel at Halbarad's shot. His brows raised he glances at the target, and no doubt - there sits the arrow in the very centre. Turning to Duinlas he says: "This Man should serve wine for all after the contest."
"Oh! The same to you," replies Maglind with a blinking of long lashes, twirling the next arrow in his fingers. Calmly he sets it on the string, pulling back and releasing it soundlessly.
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Maglind has taken 2/4 turns.
No spoken answer, now -- the contest is begun proper, and Halbarad cants his head to the praise. He draws another arrow from his quiver and sets it once more to the bowstring.
A moment's pause, then--
--Twang.
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Halbarad has taken 2/4 turns.
Where there was a gasp of awe before, there is now a gasp of angst as the archery battle seems to be ending as soon as it began. "Maglind can't make up the deficit now?!"
Duinlas blinks and raises an eyebrow, then calling out loudly in a joking tone, "Perhaps we should move back Halbarad's target several more strides!"
"I think I believe the good Captain will be winning!" laughs Barafinnel in surprise as the other arrow hits the center, as well. Shaking his head he sits back, looking truly surprised. "I will be very afraid of the good Captain!"
Chuckling Kylin looks to the Talbinor "I have faith and agree that this shall be, as you say, a tremendous duel." He waves his hand "But now it is in the hands of the two bowmen...and there, just as he turns back the arrow strikes the target. Then the second - yet his head remains held high as his 'own' contestant falls behind, something he can tell even from here.
Sidhel nods vividly as Duinlas suggests this. "He should verily shoot from twenty leagues away. And not on a tree's knot but on a pinhead. Such archery has not been seen for long!"
With a wry smile twisting his lips, Maglind merely nods in Halbarad's direction and launches his third arrow flying from the longbow with a hiss.
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Maglind has taken 3/4 turns.
Halbarad's second shot draws a wince from Rush, and he looks away for a moment. "It is almost painful to imagine that fellow ever thinking badly of you. I do hope I never get on his bad side..." Just then Maglind's third thuds home, and he grins. "But, all is not lost yet for your pick..."
An Elf of Lothlorien near the back calls out in heavily accented Sindarin: "GO MAGLIND!"
A third arrow -- grey-fletched, long, and straight -- meets the Captain's bowstring, and he draws back.
But the shout from the Elf of Lothlorien makes him pause, and draws a smile to his face.
"Your companions are noble, friend," says he, then draws the arrow and lets it loose.
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 75
Halbarad has taken 3/4 turns.
The crowd sees now collectively that it is over. Even with a perfect mark in the final shot, Maglind can only hope to tie for a few moments before Halbarad takes his own shot... That is unless the Dunadan misses completely...
Talbinor can only shake his head, clapping his hands as arrows whip in the general vicinity of perfection. As Halbarad makes his third consecutive perfect shot, this observing Ranger just smiles wryly, glancing around at the spectators of various parts of Middle-earth. "Do not think the Captain represents us all," he cautions the spectators with a small smile. "There are few even among us who have -that- skill with the bow, and I should hate to shatter any illusions at my turn."
Looking to his betting partner Kylin chuckles and another perfect shot is made "It seems as if your fellow can not miss the center of the target," then tilts his head in respect "I think if one were to be found to be on the wrong end of Hal's arrows, one would not feel pain but for an instant."
"And noisy, too," replies the Elf at the archery-mark, tossing a sharp glance backwards. "Ah..." And Maglind repeats his sagittal ritual for the last time, nocking, drawing, firing...
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Maglind has taken 4/4 turns.
The crowd now waits for Halbarad's last shot. The question is now how high will his score go? Can he shoot a perfect hundred? Can any match that?
Lominhur folds his arms and watches; breathless and smiling.
"Would that my brethren offered such support," replies Halbarad with a wry twist of his lips -- and a glance over his shoulder at the stands. A moment's afternoon sunlight dances laughing in his eyes.
Drawing an arrow, he turns back toward the target. His movements are slow, and they are smooth: the arrow is nocked, the string drawn, the target sighted, and--
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 95
Halbarad has taken 4/4 turns.
"Well done, Man of the West! Well done, Maglind!" Halamoth cheers from the stands. He claps several times, then says, "Once I saw a man of Hurin's house strike a great wolf in the eye from afar. Since then I have not seen a better display of archery by Eldar or Edain!" He claps a few more times, then goes quiet.
Duinlas applauds, "Brilliant display of marksmanship, mellyn!"
Awed by this performance of the Captain, Sidhel shakes his head. "Astounding," he calls out. "And well done, indeed! "
Barafinnel breaks into merry applause as the final arrow is released. "Well done, good Captain!" shouts the Silvan joyously, letting out a loud laugh, deep grey eyes glinting. "WELL DONE INDEED!"
The Captain does not turn to the crowd and their approbation until, first, he salutes Maglind.
"I could not have asked a finer opponent," he says, his quiet words nearly drowned by the merry applause.
And then he steps back, and with that same reserve allows the next to take their places.
Talbinor just shakes his head and applauds as Halbarad misses by such a fractional margin. "Two fine shooters," he mumbles to nobody in particular, his head wagging with the little smile of somebody who knows he's just seen something remarkable. "I can only hope us remaining marksmen provide half that level of skill."
The judges hurry out to the targets and all look quite impressed as they measure Halbarad's arrows. The targets are changed out by the attendants as the judges walk back to their places and the scores are relayed to the head judge. Once the attendants downrange give the all-clear, the judge calls out, "Hal of the Wild shot an exceptional ninety-five! Halamoth is second with sixty-five. I remind everyone that the two with the highest marks will face each other in the Grand Final! Who will step forward to challenge Hal's high mark?"
With a clap to Kylin's back, Rush is all smiles. "A shame that he dropped those final points, for had he scored prefectly, I think we could have declared our wager null and void. But, as you see, he is not infallable... so then, i shall hold you to your oath."
"Archery as fitting for a Captain," says the Elf, returning with a deep bow, "well done indeed."
And Maglind turns, and with a flutter of his grey cloak steps into the crowd.
Kylin shakes his head in mock sadness as the last arrow strikes home and the scores are announced. "Your fellow shoots well and a bet we have made. Perhaps in the eve, near the fire my tale I recount to you over the fine wine of the Firstborn?"
Lominhur says, "I would like that," and he bows his head."
Talbinor steps forward to the competing area. "I shall try to follow my Captain's fine example, if I may," he says with a small bow to the judges before he turns to address the targets.
As the next man steps forward and speaks, Kylin's head rises slowly, deliberately and he studies first the one called Talbinor then the one named Hal. A smile spreads, slowly, till at last it is full upon him. He mouths the word "Captain," soundlessly.
"You noticed that did you?" grins Rush, unashamedly, and his eyes still on Kylin.
"Shoot well, brother," replies Halbarad to Talbinor as he leaves the list, clapping the other ranger on the arm -- and he passes by then, bow light in his hand as he approaches Kylin and Lominhur.
"What's this I hear upon the wind," he asks, eyes dancing with the smile that barely brushes his lips, "About a wager?"
The smile still fixed on him as Kylin looks to Rush. A tilt of his head "I try not to miss much, good Sir. Sometimes it is the things you miss that can cost you dearly."
The lead judge calls out, "Who will stand as the second of this pair?" He looks around at those busy talking.
A scimitar-like lady in white carrying a fine yew bow approaches the judges and speaks quietly to them, mild and friendly eyes blue-green flames...
Halamoth rises suddenly, and bounds into the wheat fields. Moments later he seems gone.
The lead judge bends down and speaks quietly with the lady, "If you wish, you may go next, Lady."
After Hal has neared and speaks, Kylin bows his head "That was fine shooting, Captain. Perhaps the best I have ever seen." Then he chuckles and nods "A wager indeed...seems I owe Rush a tale. It would be good if you could join us. Over wine," he glances at Rush "and near the a fire I think we have agreed upon?"
The lead judge calls, "The Green Lady will face Restless of the Wilds!"
Lifting up his hands around his mouth, Barafinnel shouts out in gentle mockery of the one called 'Restless': "Face!"
When she reaches the spot, she stops and nocks the arrow. The yew bow seems almost as tall as she as she pulls back her arm...
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Eledurima has taken 1/4 turns.
Duinlas smiles slightly as he moves slightly aside and stands beside Sidhel, "Mellon, how do you feel Halbarad will fare against the clay targets?" a light smile playing over his face.
No reaction from the lady. Her concentration is set. She nocks another arrow and pulls.
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Eledurima has taken 2/4 turns.
"Ah," grins Rush to Halbarad, and he indicates Kylin. "A mere friendly bet upon how you would fare. I had every confidence in you, of course."
Talbinor leans casually on his bow, waiting patiently without word for a second competitor, and when the newly arrived contestant steps forward he bows politely in her direction. "May your arrows fly true," he says, simply, before straightening up and shifting over slightly, putting his right foot forward, standing perpendicular to the target, clutching his longbow in his right hand.
The Green Lady's shot draws a small raise of Talbinor's eyebrow and an appreciative nod. He plucks his arrow forth in his left hand, nocks it to the string, and, as she's decided to fire her four in sequence, patiently waits with arrow and drawstring slack in his grip.
Eledurima takes a deep breath and then exhales it through her nose, still no reaction. She looks toward the other archer and steps back. Her eyes, however, are still veiled with concentation.
"Those? Ah, we shall see," muses Sidhel and a smile enter his face as well. "Shooting a static target is one thing, but hitting a bird of clay is another. But not let us see how the Hiril fares." He turn to watch the Green Lady.
The lead judge waves to Restless to go on now that Eledurima has stepped back.
Maglind has found a nice spot near the front, and now he merely stands and watches the rest of the shooting, longbow twirling idly into the snow.
Talbinor looks a bit surprised when the Lady takes a pause at two shots, but he simply nods. "Very well," he says, lifting his arm up and pulling the string back, holding it for a little longer than is usual as he perhaps overaims a bit, and then he fires his first shaft.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Talbinor has taken 1/4 turns.
"Thank you, friend," is Halbarad's polite reply to Kylin -- a reserved reply, as well, as his eyes graze the fellow for a good, long moment.
"Of course, Rush--" he says then to the other, but pauses at the twang of bowstrings and turns to catch the Green Lady's shots.
"A tale? I should love to hear it," he says then quietly.
And to Kylin's use of Captain? No reaction at all.
The first shot gets Talbinor to grimace a bit, and, operating rather more quickly this time, he grabs another arrow, puts it on the string, lifts, draws, and fires rapidly, stepping back out of the way even as the arrow flies through the air.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Talbinor has taken 2/4 turns.
The lead judge now looks to the Green Lady and smiles, waving for her to take her place for the final two shots.
Then the arrows give flight, and the thud of the targets as each hit are heard over the speech of the men "Seems another of your party is now up to the line. Let us see if he fares as well as you did?"
Another figure approaches the training fields from the wheat fields -- it should be no surprise that he carries a bow. Haldir slackens long stride even before reaching the field proper, carefully maneuvering a path which carries him closer to the front: and a vantage point.
He ends up near Maglind, to whom he directs a question, in customary, accented Sindarin: "<Sindarin> How does the competition fare?
Eledurima watches Talbinor with a somewhat detached aire of one who is caught in her own mind. However, when he does well, a smile breaks through. Her soft voice is full of music as she speaks, "And now, were I delighted if only I were to find that the shafts might never pierce a living thing but only the targets in this valley."
She glances at the judges for a sign.
The lead judge now looks to the Green Lady and smiles, waving for her to take her place for the final two shots.
Eledurima steps to the line again with another deep breath, entering again that state of concentration, nocking the arrow into the tall yew bow and drawing, even and smooth and calm..
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Eledurima has taken 3/4 turns.
No reaction. Ele nocks the next shaft, draws smoothly and lets fly.
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 70
Eledurima has taken 4/4 turns.
Ere he is able to mask his actions, Lominhur's eyes flit to Haldir as he speaks in his elven tongue, though he clears his throat a moment later and is all smiles anew. "What say you, good sir?" asks he of Halbarad, "Who do you think will be your opponent in the final round?"
"Let us, indeed," says the reticent Captain -- and see, indeed! The Lady's second shots draw a brow sharply upward.
"Faith though I have in my brother, I think the Lady shall try my skill in the final."
A slight smile now, and the lady turns to Talbinor. "Thank you, sir." She says softly as she retires from the line and steps back, her part over.
As the Lady finishes her shots, Talbinor steps forward again with an impressed expression on his face. Looking over at her before he plucks forth his third arrow, he bows slightly in her direction. "Impressive shots," he says with the voice of a man who means it. "I know that I could not best that given a hundred attempts; but I doubt there are few here who could."
Then the third arrow comes up, Talbinor draws the string back, and, with a grimace on his face even as he aims, he shoots.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Talbinor has taken 3/4 turns.
A few of the Green-elves who live in Imladris come forward and clap at their lady. "Well done!" they call merrily.
Despite the smile he offers Haldir, the sentinel sounds slightly crestfallen.
"Agh!" An actual verbal expression of irritation breaks the Ranger's stoic visage, and he cannot hide his anger with himself as he jerks out his last arrow with clear irritation. He mumbles some curses far too quietly for anybody else to hear and draws the string back, holding it, taking a deep breath, and firing.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Talbinor has taken 4/4 turns.
Nodding "It does seem that way to me as well. The speech of the Elven tongue does draw Kylin's attention, but only for an instant. If he understands it or not no indication is given by the man. Instead he looks back to the archers, watching.
Halamoth walks back from the fields in time to see the final shots. He claps several times, then moves back to where he stood once more. Falling silent, he peers with keen eyes towards the targets down the range.
Eledurima turns and takes herself out of the way so that others may step up. A mischievous smile greets the Imladris Laiquendi and she goes to join them and greet them, careful to stay out of the way. When she comes to them after a few moments, she turns again to the competition, watching and listening.
Barafinnel is quiet now as he watches Talbinor, chuckling and looking up at the sky in an innocent manner.
The baren feet of Lisiranya step silently across the ground, weaving through the large crowd to come onto the innerskirt for a better view of the ongoings. With Ennedlorion fast asleep within the tent it has given Lisil an oppurtunity to explore a bit more than usual. Her slender limbs curling within one another across her abdomen as she comes to a pause. Emerald orbs, still duller than normal, shift over towards the scene that unfolds before her.
The attendants move forward to remove the targets as judges trot down to measure. Within moments, new targets are in place and the judges return to hand over the results to the lead judge.
The lead judge calls out clearly, "A fine contest we have! Hal of the Wild remains in the lead with ninety-five! The Green Lady is now in second with seventy! Who will stand forth for the next pairing?"
Another arrow chews into the perimetre of the target and Talbinor just shakes his head, tossing the bow in his grip slightly as he turns and walks back to the spectator area, his expression grim, his head wagging in dissatisfaction. "I am a poor shot, but even for me that was shoddy," he says to nobody in particular, heading towards the Halbarad/Lominhur/Kylin mortal cluster.
Talbinor does not sit, rather planting his longbow in the ground angrily as he begins to destring it. "I can make no excuse," says the rather crestfallen Ranger. "I did poorly. Hopefully I shall receive years enough to make a better showing next time."
Though he nods in acknowledgment, Haldir yet offers another query, slight concern and curiosity discernable even amongst the accented Sindarin: "<Sindarin> Have you participated? It would be ill for the honour of the Elves if the Secondborn took both the sparring and archery contests."
Sidhel cants his head and again he looks moist impressed as the Hiril en Dannas finishes her shooting. "..., ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... of ...," he muses. Then he turns abrubtly and approaches Halamoth. "... ... ... ... ...," he tells him and from a pouch he pulls forth a small scroll. "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..., ... ... our paths ... each .... ... Talroch ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...."
"Poor luck my friend," smiles Lominhur to Talbinor as his fellow Ranger makes his way over. "I fear they cast a spell on you. Did you hear that they can do that?" he asks then of Kylin.
As Talbinor approaches, Halbarad offers him a tightly sympathetic smile and a clap on the shoulder. "Worry not, brother," says he mildly, his own bow still strung. "You and I shall beset the targets when all the crowds have left, and I will direct you to the middle."
But even as he speaks to Talbinor, his eyes follow the Green Lady -- gauging, perhaps, and he offers a tilt of his head in distant congratulation.
Eledurima's ever watchful eyes catch sight of the Galadhrim...Mild and sweet they are as the small smile that usually inhabits her lips deepens to include her eyes. She turns and says a quick word to the Laiquendi standing beside her and then starts her progress toward them..
Brows rise as he turns to Rush "I had not heard such as this." Kylin watches the other for a time then laughs "I think that a jest has been made and I fell for it clearly."
To Talbinor "I think if I had taken up the contest, I would be the one speaking so. YOu did well to my eyes."
The young Silvan Barafinnel is still quiet now, resting back within his seat. Deep grey eyes look towards the small group of mortals curiously, and he tilts his pointy-eared head. Then, pressing one hand down, he rises up to make his way towards them.
Halamoth takes the scroll and opens it, then reads its contents and says, "An honor! Hmm. I shall attend, with certainty." Halamoth closes the parchment and smiles, then sets it into his clothes, adding, "I have been bested here today already, so I think that now I will depart. I had looked forward to the clay, though." He lauths, then turns and walks southward again.
"I fear you would need a map, Captain," Talbinor answers Halbarad with a small smirk, flipping his bow over quickly to destring the other end before slipping it back over his back and setting it in position, being very careful not to concuss any of the other observers with an ill-swing piece of lumber.
"A spell is the obvious explanation," Talbinor says with a nod to Lominhur. "And my opponent took two shots at once. That disrupted my concentration." He smiles as he says it, the anger diminishing, his voice not even pretending to believe the words it dispenses.
After a momentary glance, brief nod, and warm smile to the approaching Eledurima, Haldir looks towards the Sentinel, the question still evident in the fringe of voice. "<Sindarin> I presume it did not fair well?"
Winking to Kylin, Rush then studies the gathered crowd and he coughs. "Absolutely, Talbinor. Well, I will not have it said that I alone of our band of travellers failed to rise to the challenge. Let me see if I can avenge their witchery, though I doubt I shall do more than provide amusement."
Lominhur steps forth then to the line and he grins to Sidhel. "If any other wish to have an easy victory, I shall provide it. I too wish to try."
The lead judge looks around for any more volunteers. Seeing Lominhur, he nods and waits to see if any will join this Man.
As the lead judge calls out for another pairing to step forward, a thought ignites within the deep recesses of her mind. The invisible tugging at her comes to life, as the baren feet take life 'pon the ground once again. Silent in their tred Lisiranya steps up towards the line. Her emerald gaze shifts over towards Lominhur for a brief moment, offering a solemn nod before turning her gaze to the lead judge. A few stray locks of obsidian slide across the sides of her ivory face as the shades of pink spark to life within the darkness of the mouth. Her tongue as if dipped in silver as the words unravel into the air. "I also will try."
Eledurima says in Sindarin, "The lady reaches the group...but indeed it is the tall stern maethyr whom she finds. Her eyes are glimmering with both admiration and affection. She stops before her, much smaller than he, and waits for him to complete his thought before speaking..."
"Even if the ranger does not hit the targets well, I would still wish him as a bow in battle beside me," says the Silvan as he comes to pause nearby the group of Men, smiling to each in turn. A wink is given to Talbinor and he straightens up, shoulders squared. "After all, you did still hit the target. An arrow in the leg would slow an orc."
With the arrival of the Elf-woman, the judge smiles and calls, "Rush of the Wild faces maiden of Greenwood, Lisiranya!" He nods then for them to begin.
A soft chuckle escapes Halbarad and he gives his head a gentle shake, "You should know better, brother -- I never need a map."
A wink, and he watches Lominhur step up. "I thought he disdained the competition?" he asks with a glance aside to Kylin.
The lady reaches the group...but indeed it is the tall stern maethyr whom she finds. Her eyes are glimmering with both admiration and affection. She stops before her, much smaller than he, and waits for him to complete his thought before speaking...
"<Sindarin> Ah, but the true skill has yet to be shown, Halamoth," replies Sidhel as the old edhel eyes the clay disks. It seems though the master mason from Lindon is not interested in the tourney anymore. And then Rush comes and addresses him, so Sidhel says: "<Sindarin> Your kinsman has shown a remarkable shooting. Such skills are not easily found today."
"<Sindarin> Well, if the target was live, and unmoving," answers Maglind, still pointedly staring at something far away, "<Sindarin> he would have died, but not with a direct shaft to the heart."
Taking up a bow, Rush postures and tugs upon the string as if examining its quality. A tap of the wood, rub of the grip, and finally he seems satisfied. "This one seems to fit me," he declares. "It is a crooked as I have hopeless. Perhaps you might go first, my lady," he adds with a bow to Lisiranya, "so that I might watch and see how it is done?"
"Then perhaps I will stay to see how the arrows fair." Halamoth pauses and turns back, then becomes quite still and turns his attention to the competition again. He waits patiently.
When Hal gives Kylin a glance he asks "This should prove interesting, yes?"
Once again onto the training grounds, the Ranger Nauthcel strides. His ashen gaze passes over the specators who watch intently the archery contest until it comes to rest upon the Captain. Towards the kin, the Constant slowly walks until, within comfortable speaking tones, he asks, "How does this competition fair?"
"Aye," agrees Halbarad, lowering himself into Rush's abandoned place and resting his bow between his knees and leaning forward for a better view of the show.
"That it shall."
He glances up at Nauthcel's voice, and a smile dances in his eyes. "Swordmaster -- you are late-come to win this one. But watch -- Rush gives it his best."
The corners of the elleth's lips curl upwards, forming a faint smile in return ot the words of Lominur. Another dip of her head forms a solemn nod towards him before turning her attention onto the target. Her lithe limbs uncurl from around one another, one reaching behind her to undo the longbow that rests on her back, then draws it into place. Lisiranya's fingers curl around the grip as she raises it in place, before plucking out a single arrow to notch it into position. Two fingers slip around the string of the bow, drawing it taunt as she takes aim. Slender brows narrowing down across her features as emerald orbs squint just a tad, releasing the string and sending the arrow forth.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Lisiranya has taken 1/4 turns.
"A fair shot," Kylin says softly, almost to him self. Then a bit louder "Now let us see if Lominhur's shots are as bad as he makes out." When the last is said he looks to Hal, a smile on his face.
His words unanswered, Barafinnel merely shrugs to himself then goes to find another open seat. This time he sits at the edge, posture nearly erect and eyes focused upon the two contestants as they make their marks. As if there is any doubt whom the final two will be.
"At least Rush has little pressure on him," Talbinor observes fromhis standing observation with a small smile. "The Captain has shown us the best of the Rangers, and I have shown the worst. He can score safely between us and make a good account of himself." His voice is light, having managed to get over his failure at the targets, and he watches his fellow-Ranger shoot.
Watching how Lisiranya fares, Rush sniffs to himself and squints at the target. He says naught to his partner, though a smile is offered, and he then takes up an arrow from the unclaimed bundles. Nocking it to his he pulls back and somewhat shakily takes aim. A moment or two pass by until he finally looses his shaft.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Lominhur has taken 1/4 turns.
And Hal returns the smile, though his is softer -- more reserved. "Rush is not so poor a shot as he makes out," he observes, meeting Kylin's eyes with his own soft, silver-grey gaze.
With a bow, Maglind wordlessly allows the archery to draw his attention again; he turns from Haldir and the Lady, watching.
Eledurima 's lips part as she is addressed and her turquoise eyes twinkle. "<Sindarin> Indeed, sir! When I saw you I could hardly contain, so happy am I that you have made your way here! What a delight to see you again!" And her delight is, in fact, apparent. "<Sindarin> How are my lord and lady of the Wood? Will you take this prize to them by stepping to the line or are you here to judge?" Her voice is music.
A femine chuckle arises from Lisiranya as she watches her partner's arrow take flight ane striking into the inner ring. It has been quite some time since she has had the oppurtunity to pick up a longbow and fire and the rustyness showing through. Reminding herself of the training sessions with the Prince, she plucks up another arrow nocking it into place. Lisiranya's shoulders roll backwards, straightening her posture as she lifts the longbow up. Her fingers drawing the string taught as a deep breath inhales into her chest. Holding the breath in, she takes aim then releases the string.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Lisiranya has taken 2/4 turns.
The second shot hits the mark and Kylin squints at the targets "So close they are, I can not tell which is the better." Back to Hal he nods "I am getting the feeling that there is a lot of Rush that is not as he makes out."
Once more does Rush watch the elleth, and once more does he sniff as he sees her score. A second arrow is plucked from the bundles, and with the same uncertain handling as before he manages to ready his shot. Exhaling sharply as if steeling himself for disappointment he takes aim and lets fly his arrow.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Lominhur has taken 2/4 turns.
"I think not," replies Hal with a light, smooth shake of his head -- and there is nothing coy nor dissembling in his manner. "His is but a simple, modest soul."
While watching the contestants, Man and elleth shoot against each other, Sidhel says to Halamoth: "I saw your statue, Hirgondramdan. As masterly as this secondborn, Hal, has shot today, as masterly have you wrought the likeness of Elu Thingol. A worthy entry to the competition of the artisans, truly!"
Kylin accepts the words from Hal with a simple nod "A fair one, it seems to me, as well. Though I do think that our wager on your match," he chuckles "well suffice it to say I would guess he know your skills with the bow before you ever stepped to the line."
Glancing down at Kylin from his standing position, Talbinor lifts an eyebrow down at him. "Must every man have his little secrets?" he asks with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Modest he is, but that is hardly a great mask he has to wear." His expression rather neutral, he looks back up to the targets just in time to see Lominhur score.
"Bravo," Talbinor mumbles to himself, nodding in appreciation. "Each shot nearer to the mark. Perhaps he yet has the stuff to put Ranger against Ranger in the final round - though the Lady certainly shot well." His eyes pass over into the crowd of Elves off to the side for a moment. "We shall see."
A slender brow arches upon the fair features of her face as she watches Rush's arrow strike true. Impressive to say the least. A corner of her lips curling upwards in a half grin as she reaches for another arrow. Nocking it into place, she draws the string back. Lisiranya's chest rises with a shallower breath as she attempts to rid the thousand thoughts that continue to pester her mind, and the worriness that dwells. A hard swallow is taken as she releases the string, sending the arrow zooming through the air towards the target.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Lisiranya has taken 3/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> The Lord and Lady fare well," replies Haldir, lending a cursory glance to the ongoing competition, which garners naught but a raised brow from the marchwarden. "<Sindarin> She is present at this Congress, even now."
A hesitant shake of head prematurely betrays his reply: "<Sindarin> I am here to watch, unless need bids me join. To judge? Nay. I would not wander out and retrieve those arrows unless forced. It is too dangerous, with Secondborn and Dwarf around." There is veiled jest in his voice.
Nauthcel passes his gaze from Halbarad and focuses upon Lominhur, quietly observing his kin. A nod of approval is given as the arrows land firmly in the target. "Mayhap Rush will reveal all his secrets in time." The Constant then goes silent, eyes intent on the targets of the competitors.
"I know not if every man must have his secrets, but most do it seems to me," Kylin says to Talbinor before he looks back to the archery range.
Of secrets, Halbarad does not speak -- but tilts his head only in acquiescence.
Though, to which?
His eyes are fixed upon the contest.
Yet again does Rush wait patiently for his turn, but still he says naught either to Lisiranya or to any who's words he might overhear. Instead he exhales sharply once more and takes a third arrow from the sheath. This he nocks upon his unsteady string and pulls it taut with a frown of concentration. Closing his eyes for a moment he seems to be calming nerves ere he opens them and takes aim. There is a twang as his third dart speeds off towards the target.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Lominhur has taken 3/4 turns.
Gilaearon comes onto the field. Quickly surveying things, the echdir makes his way to the judge of the contest. "I apologize for my tardiness. I would like to join the contest.'
The judge looks down at Gilaearon and nods, saying, "In the next group, friend. Wait here until the elleth and the Man are finished."
"It is in great likeness to the King of Beleriand," Halamoth agrees, nodding. "In the stone I saw him, an so with only four and one night's work he came. I urge you to tell others to take a moonlit stroll to look upon him, for then they will see our great heritage and the King." Halamoth smiles, then says, "This Man of the West does also have some skill."
Lisiranya's lips purse tightly inwards as she watches Rush's arrow once more strike. She must get her mind cleared in order to steady her shot, though with all the happenings of lately and the images of the troll prancing within her mind it is hard to do just that. Elongated fingers pluck another arrow, nocking it into place. Her lips remain purse as she draws back the string. A few moments roll by until she finally releases sending the arrow whizing through the air.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Lisiranya has taken 4/4 turns.
"A close score, now it is up to your fellow Ranger," Kylin says. Though his words are not directed to anyone in particular.
"And I would want to show you something that also thrives under Ithil's light," says Sidhel in reply to Halamoth. "A plant that was last seen in fair Gondolin and that has now been bred anew in this vale. It is a bit ailing at the time being, but with Dinaloss' advice we hope to see it in its splendour soon."
Another tilt of his head -- Halbarad, it seems, has used his allotment of words this afternoon, and his lips remain closed as he watches Lominhur take his final shot.
Talbinor can hardly hide a wince at Lominhur's third shot going slightly awry. "Bad luck," he mumbles softly, not giving Kylin a reply. "I think that one is in the inner... no, it's in the middle ring. I suspect he should need a perfect volley on his next shot to remain in the competition."
Talbinor kneels slightly, bobbing down into a lower stance, dropping his eye level a bit so that, with his clear path to the targets, he can get a better angle of the shots. "The Elf has shot commendably as well," he adds, almost as an afterthought.
Eledurima laughs openly, however, at the remark of the tall Galadh with whom she stands. Her attention is fully upon him, the way she has of focusing upon anyone with whom she converses completely. But when she speaks it is again with joy, "<Sindarin> Ai, the Lady here? And Lord Celeborn? I hardly dared to hope when I asked! I am fortunate to have found my way here into such company!" She halts in her rather headlong delight. "<Sindarin> But then, how fare you, sir? And your dear ones? Is all well with you and with the Wood?"
Watching Lisiranya's score pass his at long last, Rush sighs in apparent resignation, and he smiles once more to the elleth. A bow of his head could be a sign of defeat, or perhaps simple acknowledgement and respect; it is unclear. But whatever the case he plucks his final arrow from the bundle, taps it hopefully against the wood of his bow and then sets it onto his bowstring. Taking a deep breath he then shakily takes aim a last time and after an uncertain pause he lets fly.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Lominhur has taken 4/4 turns.
The attendants change out the targets and put in fresh ones and the judges walk down to see the placement. Within moments, they walk back and give the scores to the lead judge. Then the attendants give the all clear and the lead judge nods.
The judge calls, "Hal remains in the lead with ninety and the Green Lady is in second with seventy. Gilaearon of the Valley has volunteered to go next, who will pair with him?"
Reluctantly Kylin stands and sighs "If it would be accepted by the judges, I would like to give it a try.
"Ninety-five!" calls out Barafinnel in correction, laughing softly and bowing his head. "Must give the good Captain all his credit, after all!"
Lisiranya's head lolls downwards, forming a solemn nod to Rush before stepping from the line. Her gaze drifting over the crowd as she begins to weave through it as debation flares within her mind. It has been a while since leaving Ennedlorion's side, and soon should she return to him.
"That is quite a wonder!" Halamoth proclaims. "I know seldom few that remember mighty Gondolin, and even greater few who would know of its precious trees." Halamoth claps when the bout is finished, then says, "This is quite entertaining. But, tell me, who retreived the seed?" He turns to Sidhel and awaits an answer.
The lead judge waves to Kylin and waves him forward. "What is your name, sir, that I may announce you?"
Halbarad casts a sidelong glance at Barafinnel, and chuckles softly. "Five points, mellon," he calls, "At that range, I shouldn't argue for five points -- but I thank you for guarding my honor!"
And he watches, then, with eyes ablaze with interest as Kylin takes the line
"Kylin," he tells the judge as he moves forward to take up a place near the lines.
The judge nods to Kylin and Gilaearon, giving them permission to begin. "Kylin will face Gilaearon!"
Sidhel nods a few times. "A wonder it is. Elwiel of Gondolin found some seeds of that very plant in her diary, but she would not remember what those were. When we eventually made one of the seeds to grow it turned out that that plant was the Moon Tear. A thing of great beauty which is supposed to glow under the moon's light."
Gilaearon, after taking a moment to compose himself and giving a nod to the judge and to Kylin, steps to the shooting line. Gracefully, but quickly, the echdir draws a shaft and nocks. The bow and arrow come up and Gilaearon draws the string back to the side of his face. The elf holds for just a moment before releasing his arrow which flies down the field towards the target.
"It was a fair effort," Talbinor says to Lominhur as the next round seems set to begin. His eyes pass up towards the sky. "The day wearies and the shadows lengthen, and I suspect we have seen the best of the evening's scoring already." His grey gaze passes back down to Lominhur, stepping out of the way so Kylin can make his challenge if he is accepted.
"Our scores combined would have us in second," Talbinor adds to Lominhur with a small, smart-alecky smirk. "A testament both to mediocrity and to excellence, as far as it goes. But your arrows flew truer than you gave yourself credit for."
Shrugging to himself, Lominhur turns and offers a bow of mock ceremony to those gatheres and smiling once again he returns to the side of his fellow Dunedain. "Now," he breathes, "let us see what our friend Kylin can do..."
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 5
Gilaearon has taken 1/4 turns.
"Such skill should be remembered, Hal," answers Barafinnel with a wide grin in response to the tall Dunadan. "Inded, only five away from a perfect score rather than ten. I await the final test to see how you fair, truly, mellon! It should be a sight."
Lominhur grins also to Talbinor and nods. "Aye. We should insist that our efforts are counted together."
The man takes one of the bows that is offered. Kylin bends the wood and just as the string nears the top, the bow springs from his hand and dances away upon the snow. He shrugs a shoulder and quickly steps over to retrieve the wayward weapon. At last it is strung and he takes up an arrow. The bow is pulled back, he aims and the shaft is let to fly.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Kylin has taken 1/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> The Lord remains at home," replies Haldir cautiously, again breaking gaze upon Eledurima, though this time it is to allow a wary glance to survey surroundings -- almost as if the guard were looking for some hidden foe. Subject of conversation changes, and quickly, at that:
"<Sindarin> I fare well; as well as one can in this world. I would hope the same -- or better -- of you, Lady?"
"With moving targets? A sight worthy to blind the worst of us," replies Halbarad to Barafinnel's call, a light smile dancing in his voice.
Another chuckle then -- this more to himself, it seems, than others -- and he tilts his head to Lominhur.
"It was not too poorly done, brother, but...yes. Let us see."
And with the last, his eyes narrow on Kylin. And see, he does.
"Indeed," Halamoth replies. He strokes his chin softly, then nods several times. "I would like to see this plant, even in its infancy, though I hope with a great hope that it will grow strong and tall so that all might look upon it, even from afar, in awe." He grows silent, then asks, "Where is this Moon Tear?"
When Kylin loses his grip on his bow, Talbinor reflexively ducks, but then a solid shot flies into the target and the Ranger lifts his brow slightly, grunting and getting up into a standing position. "<Sindarin> A good shot, for one who showed such inexperience. Beginner's luck, you think?" he asks, switching out of the Westron, glancing between his three fellow Rangers thoughtfully.
Gilaearon watches Kylin's arrow and nods in approval at the excellent shot. Again with grace and poise, Gilaearon quickly repeats his tasks. The arrow is nocked on the strong. The bow is brought up and the string and arrow are pulled back. The elf holds steady for just a moment, aiming at the distant target, before releasing and watching the arrow fly away down field.
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Gilaearon has taken 2/4 turns.
"I hit the target...that is a first for me," Kylin says as another arrow is taken in hand. It is notched and held in place with the bow hand while the other pulls his hair from his face "Perhaps this would help, or hinder, who is to say?" He nods to his opponent "A fine shot that was. I do hope that I shall not be beaten to badly."
The bow is pulled back, and he aims down the shaft, raising it slightly to account for the distance and 'twang' - it is on it's way.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Kylin has taken 2/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> Miraculous," observes Rush to his fellow Rangers, smiling all the while. "<Sindarin> Of course, firsts do seem to crop up often when we least expect them. I think he is hiding his true skill, though in truth I myself was more fortunate than I expected."
"It sits still in the greenhouse," explains Sidhel to the Lindondhrim. "But Dinaloss suggested we provide the plant a cooler spot than this. Let us hope that cold, or the lack of it, was what made the plant ill," says he. Briefly he glances at the two archers. "It seems, that this is the tournament of the Secondborn," he muses. "First the sword duelling and now archery..."
"<Sindarin> ...and a second," Halbarad points out softly, his lips pressing in a grim line.
A hint of distress cosses the echdir's face as he watches Kylin's second arrow score the middle ring. Hoping for a better result, Gilaearon shoots this time a little slower. With steady easy, the elf takes his arrow, nocks it and brings the weapon. The string and arrow are drawn back and Gilaearon aims carefully at the center of the target for a few moments. The next moment, the arrow is flying away.
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Gilaearon has taken 3/4 turns.
Eledurima , upon hearing the judge from across the field mention her, turns only her ear to him for a moment not her eyes. Her eyes and her attention is for the tall male. Her face falls a little bit at his amendation to her impression. "<Sindarin> Ah, and so you did not mention him. It was my hope for him that spoke." Her eyes register mutably and mutedly to every word the marchwarden speaks, registering his caution, his watchfulness, his interest, at last. "<Sindarin> Ah, of me. There is not a very great deal, as ever. I move through the world doing as I can. My Elhinnon are company for me." There is only a hint of wistfulness in her expression.
Eledurima adds with a soft smile. "<Sindarin> I am well as well can be."
Kylin scratches at his chin "Another good shot, sir." He says to Gilaeron before he takes the third arrow of his "I just hope to hit again, then I would count myself fortunate."
The bow is bent, and again he aims for just the briefest of moments and once again the arrow is heading to the target.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 40
Kylin has taken 3/4 turns.
Talbinor nods at Lominhur and Halbarad, his own mouth closing into a thoughtful expression as he watches the two competitors wage a war of archery. "The day advances, and accuracy is marred for it, but I see great skill in how the bows are fired," he says conversationally, glancing around the crowd as a whole. "If it were high noon, we might be seeing great scores, but alas for those who waited. Poor luck." He folds his hands together, resting them in front of his chest as he watches.
"<Sindarin> Twice to the inner and once to the middle," Talbinor says to his fellows as more arrows fly in front of them. "<Sindarin> I do not pretend to be a great archer, but I at least can hold a bow and he has done in three more than I did in four." His gaze flickers between the Rangers, once more. "<Sindarin> It may not -mean- anything, naturally! But it is curious."
"I will visit it this night, should the moon show her face, then," Halamoth replies. He adjusts his shoulders, than says, "The Captain's marksmanship is a wonder, but few of his men fair as well. Although, had I not as many years of practice, they would have all surely beaten sixty-five or seventy." He rubs his chin, then gestures towards Kylin. "Who is that Man who shoots yonder? A Breelander?"
Gilaearon nods to Kylin's compliment with amusement. "<Sindarin> Thank you sir for your exaggeration."
Gilaearon wastes no time with his last shot. The elf quickly nocks his arrow, brings the bow up, draws back, and lets fly after the slightest pause.
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Gilaearon has taken 4/4 turns.
Only a smile is given to the Firstborn as he speaks. There is no indication on the man to show if he understood or not. When the arrow hits he nods "Fine, fine shot."
Kylin steps forward, another arrow is notched and this time little to no time is taken to aim and the bolt is let to fly. His own eyes follow the path as the bow is lowered.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Kylin has taken 4/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> ... ...?" Sidhel looks at Kylin, then bends his head close to Halamoth. "<Sindarin> He is ... ... ... ... ... White, ... few ... ... ... here. I ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... what we ... of .... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... invited him ... ... ... ... ..., when we ... ... ... ... ..., ... before ... ... have run ... ... ... of ... ...."
Gilaearon graciously turns to his opponent on the line and bows deeply in submission. "<Sindarin> A fine showing sir. I applaud your victory and I wish you good luck in the contest."
As the targets are changed and then measured, the lead judge rises and claps for those who have participated thus far. With new targets in place and the scores relayed, he calls out, "The standings at the top remain the same. Hal remains at ninety-five and the Green Lady at seventy. Are there any others who will take part?" He looks around patiently.
"<Sindarin> A fine lot, we both are," laughs Haldir, the mirth meandering briskly about words. There is a melancholy to the jest, however. "<Sindarin> One would imagine that, after so long, we would not rely upon the world for well-being."
"<Sindarin> But are they? I cannot imagine one with such a reputation for mischief as yourself would be content with a troop of guardsmen." A brief pause, glance to the judge, and he says: "<Sindarin> But, ah, they call for you, perhaps."
Then, when the arrow hits Kylin laughs and turns. With a bow to Gliaeron "My thanks good Sir for allowing me to shoot with you." Then to the judges he bows, deeply "My thanks to you for giving me the chance to take part in the competition."
"<Sindarin> ...and twice to the middle," adds Halbarad to Talbinor's count, a curious look cast to Kylin -- but his features resume their mild manner as the lead judge calls out his name -- and as Kylin finishes his turn with the bow.
He stands then, bow in two hands, and looks for any other who might join.
Halamoth says, in a deep tone that echoes like the waves upon the sea, "<Sindarin> Ahh. I see he is a Lesser Man. I shall say no more of this." The Sinda draws quiet and his mood dims until his countenance is dark and solemn. Then, in the common tongue, he says, 'Let us see if the last of the competition draws near.'
He makes his way back to his seat, not before handing off the bow to one of the Firstborn that is assisting in the competition. As he nears where he sat he looks to the Rangers "Talk about luck, I think the wind died each time before I shot and came up when the other did."
Looking around and seeing no one rising to the challenge, the judge calls out, "Let the Green Lady and Hal of the Wild stand forth for the final round!" He looks into the crowd to see where they stand.
"The wind is tricky in the Valley," confirms Halbarad at Kylin's suggestion, but there is no smile in his eyes or in his voice -- and none at all upon his lips.
He steps forward then, at the judge's call, silent.
"Well loosed," says Barafinnel softly from where he sits. As the finale is called however he takes immediate interest, eyes widening and rear shifting forward on his seat. Deep grey gaze flickers to Halbarad in expectance, then he looks down to the targets.
"But where were such fortunate elements when Rush or I were shooting?" Talbinor asks Kylin with a small smile. "Or, for that matter, when the Captain took his last. I suspect the world decided it had enough of Ranger prowess by that time." As the judge calls forward the two finalists he moves out of the way, so the large Ranger can make his escape to the shooting area.
"Between the Constant and yourself, Captain, let us give these people something to tell their children about," Talbinor adds, what passes for encouragement from him, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the events unfold.
Eledurima's small head cants to one side at the Haldir's words as she sighs softly. "<Sindarin> Well...." Her thoughts are visibly moving toward finding expression in words when the prospect of having to return to the center of the field again and so she only nods. She half turns and then stops and says softly, "<Sindarin> I miss those days...and Glynnis and the long talks and the climbing of trees and playing in mudpuddles...and my father. But, thou knowst...The light fades and song holds our place from darkness as the stars hold the night." The warmth in her eyes is sweet as she gifts the marchwarden a final look. "<Sindarin> We both do our part.... Come and sing with us before you leave. We are just on the other side of the river.... Until then, Varda's blessing on you, sir.." And with that she turns and makes her way to the center again...her ancient yew bow in her small hand...
"A fine effort," smiles Rush to Kylin, by way of congratulation. "You tied with me. If I didn't know betterm while I am hardly excellent with the thing, I would assume you had shot before. A day for beginners to shine, it would appear." He looks then to Halbarad and Talbinor; falling silent as he await the final tasks.
Calling out as the two contestants are now present, the judge begins, "The final round begins. The clay objects will be flung into the air one by one. The Green Lady and Hal will each take turns shooting at the objects. The first to hit four will be declared the winner. Let us begin!"
A shrug of his shoulders is Kylin's response to the elements from Talbinor "Perhaps, perhaps. I do not know the tricks of the wind in the valley, perhaps if I had a better score could have been had." He knocks off a clump of snow from his boot with the other and then readies to watch the final contestants.
When Rush speaks he turns "A few times at the wayward rabbit or squirrel, perhaps," and he finishes off with a smile.
Longbow in hand, Halbarad draws an arrow from his quiver, but waits before he puts it to the string.
"My lady," he says solemnly, bending his shoulders in a slight bow. "Will you do the honor?" He motions toward the targets yet to be flung.
Eledurima 's mild eyes narrow a little bit as the man speaks to her and the edges of her small mouth turn slightly upward. She nods. "If you wish..." Then she hesitates. "A wager, sir?" She waits...
"Then you may have just found yourself a fair hobby, if that was your first real attempt," Talbinor says to Kylin, a little laugh not quite leaving his lips but the mirth it represents obvious. "You gave some experienced shooters a good run, and archery is not the most intuitive of sports."
"<Sindarin> I just may," replies Haldir to the departing Green Lady, then lapsing into silence. Watchful gaze rests upon the line and competition, with only the briefest of glances carrying it to the gathering of humans.
"I think it was mostly luck, sir," Kylin says pleasantly to the Ranger "Most times I miss what I am shooting at."
"If you wish," acquiesces the Captain -- but he does not offer the wager, only waits. If the lady will suggest one, it seems, he will accept.
Eledurima continues to gaze at the man, her eyes swirled turquoise. "I am not favored. You are the more practiced by the score. Should I take the prize, will you give me that you will take no living game for one of your years?"
Maglind peers over the crowd, turning to glance backwards at the marchwarden. "<Sindarin> What are they saying?"
When Kylin hears the wager offered "I am thinking that perhaps I had the better of the wagers. Berries and roots are welcomed, but to eat just that upon the road," he muses with a shake of his head, not finishing his thought.
"He could always find prepared rations from Imladris," chuckles Barafinnel from nearby, keen elven ears picking up the words imparted by Kylin. This said he returns his gaze to the two participants, head canted to one side curiously.
Sidhel rests his arms on his longbow as he watches the lady and the captain set the terms of their wager. "I shall tell this to Ingildur," he speaks under his breath with great mirth.
"<Sindarin> I am not certain," replies Haldir with brows furrowed. "<Sindarin> It seems, if the lady Eledurima wins, Hal of the Wild will be forced to not kill any animal for one of the Secondborn's years."
"Aye," laughs Lominhur, agreeing it seems with Kylin. "But, one thing I am beginning to understand, if indeed I have the right of it at all, is that many of these different elves have many different likes and dislikes. It would seem that the Lady has an attachment to the beasts of the land. As to your oath," he chuckles, "would you complain were Hal to join us? He did seem interested in hearing your tale."
A moment's silence weighs between these two, and Halbarad's silvered gaze does not part from the lady's emerald. And then--
"Neither by bow nor knife," he says, and all in his manner is solemn, "Sword nor hand, I swear it -- if you take the prize."
"And if it is mine?" His quiet words continue, "The simple honor of a tale."
Nauthcel, having remained silent for some time, upon hearing the wager, shakes his head and speaks softly, "Harder would the life be of the Captain if he were to lose." Once again, the Constant falls silent, interest revealed on his visage as he awaits the beginning of the final round.
Eledurima's laughter is soft and her eyes steady. There is both mischief and mirth in her eyes. "Or a song. Done. And my thanks." She steps to the line with a solemn nod, solemn except for the twinkling eyes...
Kylin laughs and pats his belly "I fear that I could not take such with me upon the road. Already the weight has stuck to me from the food here. Never mind that then the longing that would come to me with every taste would drive me back to this wonderful valley," he replies to Barafinnel.
To Rush "Aye, it does seem that way to me as well," then after a moment of pondering "I would like it much if the Captain would see his way to join us."
Eledurima takes a deep breath and then turns to the one who is to release the clay "pigeon" her long yew bow at her side. "Ready then." Her concentration returns.
"<Sindarin> That is the terms of the wager," muses Haldir, amusement flowing in the hushed tones.
"Or a song," agrees the Captain -- and he motions, then, with his bowless hand. It is time to begin.
As the target is released the vegan Laihiril quickly and and smoothly nocks the arrow and fires with the speed of which the quendi are able.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Eledurima has taken 1/4 turns.
The Lady sees three discs destroyed, and with all intent and focus -- and yet, still, with loose and easy motion -- Halbarad nocks one arrow to his bow with others ready yet...
Halbarad takes his turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Halbarad destroys five clay discs!
Unbelievable!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Halbarad has taken 1/4 turns.
'I've never seen a nun look that horrible before.' and the doctor says 'I told her she was pregnant.' The patient asks 'And is she?' and the doctor says 'No, but it sure cured her hiccups.'"
Eledurima's lips tighten only a small measure and then she smiles again toward the one who is coordinating the targets. She is ready.
The targets are released and the lady again smoothly nocks and fires without a hesitation or hitch.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Eledurima has taken 2/4 turns.
Another three are fallen, the bits of which scatter over the training field afar. And as his opponent shoots, Halbarad watches not the arrows or the discs, but the Lady -- and there is a curiousness in his eyes.
Silent, still, and ever-solemn, Halbarad prepares another arrow.
And when the discs are loosed, the arrows folllow suit.
Halbarad takes his turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Halbarad destroys five clay discs!
Unbelievable!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Halbarad has taken 2/4 turns.
The Green-elves present cheer for their lady as it is her turn again. As she prepares to shoot, they fall silent, their hands joined as they wait...
Kylin only shakes his head as disk after disk are broken "Now that is shooting, by each."
"Good gracious," Talbinor mumbles as Halbarad picks up where he left off, destroying the discs like it seems he shall destroy the woodland creatures of Eriador after he wins this contest. "He really is a tremendous shot." He actually sounds rather surprised by this, as if realising for the first time something which he's known most of his life.
As the Laiquendi get their cheering section going, Talbinor turns to Lominhur, a rather thoughtful expression on his face. "I do hope our Captain appreciates the more solemn, quiet support of the Rangers," he muses aloud.
"I merely hope he chooses not to venture away from us again," replies Rush to Talbinor. "I would fear no troll nor band or orcs should his bow be guarding me..."
Sidhel raises his brows at such shooting and he shakes his head again. "<Sindarin> As if Beleg Strongbow's spirit had returned in this form..." He moves over to where the Marchwarden of Lorien and Maglind stand. "<Sindarin> I daresay the Lady Eledurima shoots like the best Sindarin archers. I am surprised to such archery from the Lady of the Laiquendi."
Eledurima's eyes flicker softly and she sighs as she again steps to the line, glancing down as she takes a breath through her nose and lets it go. She looks up and smiles inscrutably, smiles at the target master and nods, waiting.
When the targets are released, she fires again as smoothly as before, calm.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Eledurima has taken 3/4 turns.
Their solemn, quiet Captain must appreciate their solemn, quiet support -- for he mimics them in it, and in solemn quietude readies his third set of arrows.
Again, the discs are loosed -- and the cry of them is not unlike the cry of birds on the horizon.
And then--
--Twang.
Halbarad takes his turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Halbarad destroys five clay discs!
Unbelievable!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 75
Halbarad has taken 3/4 turns.
"Just one disk out of all my shots and I would be thrilled. Yet she," Kylin motions with his chin "gets three each turn. And your Captain...5 each turn. I am witnessing something I had never thought I would see. I do not think, should I retell this story that any would believe me."
"Alas, ai," murmurs Barafinnel, shaking his head with a vague hint of amusement as he watches the contest in something akin to awe. "Were the wager to have won out, then indeed the poor animals would have been spared their lives."
"In that, Rush, we heartily agree," Talbinor answers the Ranger just as Halbarad's bow again sings, and chunks of five clay discs again fall to the ground. "If only the hide of a troll were as easy to destroy as clay. But if my math is correct, our Captain has taken the day regardless of the fourth shots." Talbinor turns his head over towards Kylin, lifting his eyebrow. "If you tell the story to a Ranger, you will be believed, at least," he says, simply.
With a smile "Perhaps if said Rangers were to wear something that would tell me that they are one, I would have someone to back up my tale?" Kylin says with a wink to Talbinor before turning back to the shooters.
"<Sindarin> She was trained by some of the best," replies Haldir to Sidhel, offering a side-long glance to the Herald during a pause in the shooting, "<Sindarin> but it may not prove enough."
Grey gaze tracks clay discs, even as they fall to the ground. A whispered comment, more to the speaker than those about: "<Sindarin> Perhaps later I will try my hand at this."
All this talk of Halbarad going on a rampage once the contest is concluded, the Green-elves hold hands now not only in support of their lady, but also they chant softly a lament for the poor creatures of the earth.
"Though I would discourage telling such a tale too openly for reasons that may be beyond your wisdom," Nauthcel cautions though his gaze remains on the competition. His words appear to go without explanation yet in the eyes of the Man, a faint sense of worry glows.
Eledurima sighs softly, "Well, twas worth the assay." She raises her chin for her last shot <I surmise>. She smiles again and steps to the line, signally the targetmaster and drawing the yew bow quickly smoothly with the full grace of the quendi, the Laiquendi, and fires again.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Eledurima has taken 4/4 turns.
Despite their mood, the Green-elves cheer, with calls of hope and love for Eledurima!
Sidhel says in Sindarin, "I would count my trainers in archery among the best as well, but their and mine skills pale before the shooting of those two," says Sidhel to Haldir. "Truly, this is amazing. I would gladly let their masters train me, or even ask Hal or the Hiril for instructions."
"If this is alas for the woodland creatures," chuckles Lominhur, "then it is huzzah for us, for I wager that any song sung of this lady and her folk would be charming and wondrous indeed. I do hope they do not actually expect Hal to go and hunt, just to spite them..."
The remains of another three discs tumble to the earth, but--
--Halbarad lowers his bow also, and his quiver goes untouched. The game is done.
"My lady," says he, silver eyes aglimmer with the fading afternoon sunlight as he offers a reserved bow. "It seems the winds have played me fairer, but the honor of this competition has been a deep one. Will you allow me still to to take that oath, in gratitude? Although--"
His solemnity breaks the briefest moment; a smile capers in his eyes. "I would still have my song."
Halbarad's offer in victory completely fails to surprise Talbinor, as he just wears a small smile, which is all the answer to the Laiquendi's worry-about-the-poor-animals that he feels the need to give. "I suspect, Rush, that we shall spend many nights training with the bow so we can shoot the Captain his supper," he says thoughtfully, but with a grin.
Watching the two, Kylin sits back "Not only a good shot, but honorable as well. A fine and just offer."
"<Sindarin> As Herald," wonders Haldir, seemingly ignoring the other comments of the Historian, "<Sindarin> Sidhel, would you have the authority or ability to allow me to try these ... clay discs? I yearn for a test, or practice, that is not simply a stationary target."
The marchwarden yet watches the two on the line, interest evident in glance.
Eledurima stands as a still white point, white and shadow, and regards Halbarad for a moment, her small and graceful head a cant, a birdlike pose. Without unveiling her expression, she nods once, slow, composed. But her response is immediate. "Sir, I will allow it. And more. I will thank you for it." She adds, "And the song is yours by rights, no matter what you choose." Her lips again sneak up into a msichievous smile. "And I think that I can promise you that what it will say will be much changed by your generosity. It was well shot and..." she adds, "Afterwards graciously done."
With Halbarad and Eledurima sharing in the spoils, the judges smile and slowly disperse and the attendants go about the business of cleaning up. The archery contest is concluded.
The words from Eledurima ring true to him causing Kylin to stand from his chair. He claps his hands "Well done to the two Champions," he says.
"Only by dint of a gracious partner in the game."
Halbarad's reply is swift and gracious, and solemn too -- and with that same solemnity he turns to the assembled, to the audience, to the contestants.
"Let it be known," his rich baritone calls out, "That Hal of the Wilds shall from this day for the space of a year not take any living game -- so on my oath, I swear it!"
Sidhel says in Sindarin, "It would be delighted to do so, Maethyr," replies the herald. "The more since I am somewhat indebted to you." He smiles faintly at this. "Would you prefer to try it right now, or shall I arrange a quiet session only for you?"
Eledurima lowers her eyes for a moment in ....could it be?...shyness? And then they come up again gracefully. "My thanks. Indeed."
"<Sindarin> Nay, not now: For I would not be seen doing worse than the competitors -- or besting them," replies Haldir, jest and solemnity a perfect match in voice: a contradiction, and yet not. "<Sindarin> Indebted? Nay. It seems I was in the wrong in our discussion."
"A shame he didn't take his last," Talbinor muses to the Men about him, his hands unfolding to rest non-chalantly at his side. "I would have enjoyed seeing if he could pick up the perfect mark this time." He idly kicks away some snow that had drifted onto his boot, non-chalantly, and walks off to the side.
"No point in waiting around, I guess," Talbinor says, adjusting the bow in his back and going to make his escape, heading off to the snowny wheat fields to the south.
"Nonetheless he certainly earned the win," chuckles Barafinnel, speaking to himself it would seem as he looks on, head canted softly.
Eledurima gathers her arrows and with a last warm glance thrown to the marchwarden of Lorien, she departs.
Sidhel smiles the more now. "<Sindarin> That is well then. I would like to invite you to share a bottle of Dorwinion wine with me and my friend Duinlas. He is a great singer and an even greater friend of good wine, mind you. And an archer as well, so this should make for a merry company. Would you like that?"
"<Sindarin> That would be most enjoyable," remarks Haldir, turning to the Herald as contestants leave. "<Sindarin> Dorwinion wine? I tried Imladhrim wine some days ago, and it compared not to that of Dinlom. Perhaps this will prove better."
"<Sindarin> Surely you tried a bad vintage that day," replies Sidhel. "<Sindarin> The wines of Imladris are remarkable. Speaking of wines from Dinlom, there is one winemaker Giliath who hails from Lothlorien and now lives in our valley. I shall ask him about the wines from Dinlom."
"<Sindarin> Giliath? The former Minister?" Surprise is writ freely upon the face of the Galadhrim marchwarden, and it is readily evident in voice. The traces of jest are evident, as well, and Haldir shakes his head: "<Sindarin> I cannot say. He is of Raavindonserke; be warned: his opinion may be biased."
"<Sindarin> He was Minister of the Court?" Surprise is written on Sidhel's fair face. "<Sindarin> That I did not know. Why, that is most interesting. Was he succeeded by Niinaeth or does his service to the Lady lie even further in the past?" Curiously, the herald Sidhel has now turned into the seeker Sidhel.
As Giliath arrives suddenly, Lominhur finally rejoins the various conversations that have sprung up. His eyes catch sight of the vintner's entrance and a smile graces the Ranger's lips. "Against all expectations," he answers, "it was one of my ilk."
At the edge of the field, a cloaked figure is separated from the varicolored backdrop. Perhaps she is just arrived, or perhaps she has been there all along. But, coming forward, Galadriel lowers her hood and her countenance is glad for the sun to shine upon it.
Haldir nods in acknowledgement and affirmation, drumming fingers idly upon the longbow in hand. "<Sindarin> Niinaeth was the following, and present, Minister. I cannot speak much else concerning him," caveats the marchwarden, keen glance straying about the area.
"<Sindarin> Though he may, himself, satisfy any inquiry, perhaps," comments he, gesturing to the newly-arrived Giliath.
To the Lady of the Golden Wood, the marchwarden's glance strays. He says naught, however.
"Aiya, Giliath! Well met," exclaims Sidhel as the Master Vintner arrives. "I hear most interesting tales about you. And look, here are many fine Eldar from the Golden Wood," he says. His gaze wanders to meet the Lady as well, but he too says naught about it.
"Oh?" Giliath lifts a single brow, eyes searching for the speaker. When he sees Lominhur, the other raises to meet it. "That was well shot then," he says, smiling a little at the ranger before turning his attention to Sidhel and beyond him to Haldir. "Tales?" he asks, and his tone is, just a little, wary. But Galadriel brings from him a widening smile and a small half-bow across those between them.
The mention of the Wood draws Lominhur's gaze to the Galadhrim, and he looks them over with a twinkle of wonder in his eyes. "So then, I can assume I meet in you, the fabled folk of Lothlorien?"
"The fabled folk of Lothlorien?" One brow raises upon the now masked face of the Galadhrim marchwarden, even as question continues, elusive and yet probing: "I fear I have heard naught of those people. What have you heard? I have traveled far, and may know of whom you speak, if under a different name."
Off to the side, with some of the archers of Imladris, Kylin stands, talking. Smiles, gestures and even laughter comes from the small group from time to time.
The woman in the night-blue cloak continues her trek across the snowy field and smiles upon recognizing Giliath and others whom she knows. Upon the exclamation of Lominhur, she seems to change somewhat - though maybe it is a trick of the eye or a change in the sun; but she dims just a bit. Upon arriving amongst her friends she smiles and speaks in a lovely - though quite normal - voice, "Good day cousins."
Training Ground
The training ground of the Tirith Imladhrim is a broad lawn, its once-verdant expanse now turned now to a snowfield. The southern half is dedicated to the practice of archery, the great skill of the Eldar: there rests upon the southeast corner a multitude of targets of a bullseye design. At the other corner--the southwest corner--is the firing line, and also a barrel of practice arrows. Through the center of the field running east-west is the meadow path; east is the bright guardhouse, and to the west is the armoury complex. Another path runs southwards to the Imladris stables. At the northern end of the field are many dummies of straw, fit to practice bladework upon.
Around the edges of the field, tribunes have been erected and many banners fly from long poles, high above the ground; past them tower many trees, a thick forest crowned with glistening white. Rising above all are the cliffs of the valley wall, looming to the north.
Contents:
Haldir
Elrond
Eledurima
Galrohad
Nauthcel
Halamoth
Lominhur
Barafinnel
Halbarad
Kylin
Thileithel
Maglind
Sidhel
Duinlas
Ellach Squad
Elentiri Guard
Ethiriath Squad
Magor Squad
Cuthalion Squad
Rochonnath Squad(#13265VaehtM)
Rochonnath o Nevrast
Archery Targets(#10859V)
Straw Dummy
Obvious exits:
North leads to Guard House.
South leads to Wheat fields.
The sun has risen to its apex and begins the slow descent to the west. But its brilliant golden shine reflects brightly off the snow. A brilliant sparkling display of light and reflection is on the field this afternoon. A large portion of snow has been cleared away and bare, frozen, brown turf laid to the sun. At the far end of the field stand several archery targets. But they are exquistely crafted wooden targets, carved of soft wood and painted in bright colors by the artisans of the Valley. Large banners billow softly in the gentle breeze and display the standards of all the houses of Imladris. A set of seats has been placed to the side and behind the point of the archers. A great many elves have always simply brought blankets to sit upon the snow. A raised dais sits behind the normal seating to allow more to sit and watch from the superior position.
The Elves of the Cuthalion and Ethiriath Squads work around the area of the archery range, preparing for the coming event. They are the elite of the Cuniriath of Imladris, the long-range death by arrow that keeps the Valley's foes at bay from secret blinds hidden to all but Elvish eyes.
One of the Ethiriath is not amongst the others, his garb the casual wear of the elves though somewhat warmer for these winter months. Barafinnel is amongst the crowd now, one of the waiting participants, a silvery longbow in hand. Presently he watches the banners flapping overhead, keen ears perked attentively for the start of the event.
In one of the seats behind the archers sits Kylin. With cloak wrapped tightly, arms crossed over his chest, he watches and waits for the start of the competition to begin.
A Ranger makes his way into the training grounds, the snow crunching beneath his heavy, mortal stride as he moves up, longbow across his back, his lips pursed into a somewhat grim expression. Talbinor glances around at the growing crowd of archers and voyeurs, stretching the fingers in his hands out in front of him as he heads towards one of the chairs.
Longbow and string are removed from his back, and Talbinor idly strings his weapon for today as he sits down upon the chair, looking out at the targets. His grim expression does not fade in the least, even as he pays more attention to stringing his longbow properly than he would be likely to even in the heat of battle.
The Arferedir Duinlas kneels near the mark of the contestants, his longbow is strung tautly and rests across his knee. He looks down the field and narrows his eyes. A look of concentration on his usually jolly face.
Softly, suddenly, a hand falls upon Kylin's shoulder from behind him. "Good day," says Lominhur cheerfully as he angles into the other's view. "Come to watch the skill of the firstborn?"
A cloaked figure sits alone in the snow, restlessly fiddling with the unstrung ends of his longbow. Maglind raises his head and glances around patiently.
The range is not prepared as the few who will be manning the targets take cover and the other archers move to the side. Some few of their numbers join the crowd while others join the dignitaries of the Tirith who wait to see the coming event.
There is more than one -- more than three -- Men here today, whether to watch or to challenge the skill of the Firstborn. Among them is Halbarad who stands apart from those who have come to watch -- and he watches them, eyes of silver-grey alight with the afternoon sun.
He also bears a bow unstrung, and leans lightly -- lazily -- on it.
With a quick, startled, turn of his head, Kylin's features soften as he sees that the owner of the hand and voice is the one called Rush . "I have, and you? Are you going to participate," he says with a wave of his hand to where the contestants ready "or shall you just observe as well?"
From the wheat field comes Halamoth, who is dressed in his traveling clothes. He steps lightly upon the snow until he reaches the hardened floor of the training grounds. Rather swiftly his attention moves to the Men who prepare to loose their arrows, and then he diverts his attention to the best area for him to get a clear view of the event. Rather calmly he draws closer.
A fanfare is sounded and from behind the targets emerges the herald who had also announced the sword dueling. Sidhel steps before the crowd and he declares: "Let now the tournament of this year's Congress continue! Archery shall be today's discipline. Hear the rules, Cunirath from near and wide: Two archers shall each shoot four arrows at their targets until all have stood before a target once! After that, the rings are compared and the two best archers shall shoot a special duel," he announces. "For those two, the targets will be removed and disks of dried clay will randomly be thrown into the air. True skill can then be displayed while trying to shoot the most disks down. Thus the Master Archer of the Four Realms shall be determined!"
"Me?" asks Rush of Kylin, and he grins. "Aye, I am here to watch only, for I have no skill with such things. I should perhaps learn sometime, but I find my blade much easier to use when waylaid by bandits." He then quietens as Sidhel makes his declarations; his gaze slipping to Talbinor and Halbarad.
Overhearing Rush due to his and Kylin's relatively close proximity, Talbinor turns around in his seat towards the fellow-Ranger, glancing up at him with a small smile. "My skill as an archer is insignificant, I assure you," he says, plucking at the bowstring in a rather needless test of its tensile strength. "Regardless, as I missed the chance to test my blade, I hope to display my martial might in some regard."
Talbinor does not much turn and hear the rules, although he does nod appreciatively at one point, befores standing up out of his chair and pacing through the snow, crushing the soft flakes into a hard surface as he walks in small circles, waiting for the competition to begin.
"Hmm.. disks of clay.." Halamoth repeats softly. He taps his chin, then draws his longbow from a quiver that is arranged to hold it and steps forward up to the line. For now his arrows remain where they are, stifly placed inside the quiver. "Greetings friends!" he says in a deep, but gentle voice. He finds himself a place upon the line and waits.
"And bandits do waylay many these days. I am sure that your sword teaches them the folly of their deeds." Kylin's own gaze follows that of Rush's. Falling on the two men that are part of the contestants. After the rules are announced he says "Your," he pauses, lips pressed together "fellows are taking part. What think you, they have something to show the Firstborn?"
"Ahh, modesty...such a refreshing thing these days," Kylin says to the departing Talbinor before he gives Rush a quick glance. Only then does he turn back to watch the contest.
Sidhel strides then forward to join the archers. A helper hands him his own strongbow and a quiver and again the trumpets call out to announce the judges of this event: the most senior archers of the Tirith Imladhrim. In line they walk up to a seperate dais where they take their seats. The tournament can begin!
One of the judges calls out: "May Orome watch over this tourney! And may your eyes and hands prove their skills today. Who will be the first two archers?" Inquisitively the old edhel looks at the competitors.
"An interesting contest indeed," says Barafinnel softly with a chuckle in his mellow voice. He moves forwards to join the other participants, looking slowly over them and adjusting the bracer on his left wrist. As a call is made out he lifts a hand to make his prescence known. "I shall, should no others wish to go first!"
A slow nod follows the rules as Duinlas unfolds his legs and stands tall. Eyes going to each of the others and a smile crossing his face now. His long delicate fingers slide over his bow as he keeps it clear of the ground.
At Sidhel's announcement, Halbarad remains where he stands, eyes skimming the others gathered and wasting no breath to hasten forward.
Both hands yet on his unstrung bow, he waits with the land's own patience for others to take up the contest.
Carefully does Maglind string his longbow, shouldering it and rising to come near the starting line.
"Show is not the word," replies Rush, "for I deem there is nothing to prove to these goodly folk. However, they may well offer a surprise. And aye," he adds then with a smile to Kylin, "I teach what manners I can with my blade. It can be most effective. What of you? Have you any skills with any of these tools?"
As the contestants filter forward, Talbinor shrugs to himself, and almost whimsically steps up to join the volunteers, planting his longbow at his feet, standing shoulderwidth apart and, now that the moment is finally coming, looking ready.
The judges wait solemnly for those going first to go first...
"I shall also fire first!" Halamoth proclaims when no others volunteer. He looks to the judges, and then to Barafinnel, and says, "Good luck!" Afterwards he faces the target and prepares to fire an arrow..
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Halamoth has taken 1/4 turns.
A polite smile is given to Halamoth as Barafinnel turns and positions himself in front of a target. Gripping the bow firmly at its center, the young Silvan nocks an arrow from the quiver from his shoulder, drawing back the bow and releasing it.
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Barafinnel has taken 1/4 turns.
A shrug, a smile, are Kylin's first response to Rush's question "I am able to defend my self, no more." He tilts his chin to those that are going to take part "Nothing, I am sure, compared to those that take the field this day."
Then as there are the two first contestants "Deadly accurate are those of the Firstborn. I have witnessed their skills on another type of field. This should prove very interesting."
As another volunteers to be first in the range and the initial places are filled, Halbarad raises his bow above his shoulders and stretches.
But his eyes do not leave the contestants.
Halamoth swiftly draws and arrow and looses it from the string only a moment afterwards! It strikes the middle ring and Halamoth laughs softly. "What a fair game! I do believe that I killed yonder target, for it does not move." He chuckles softly, then draws back an arrow, in the same manner as before, and quickly fires while only taking a moment to aim.
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Halamoth has taken 2/4 turns.
Another arrow is nocked from Barafinnel's quiver, though this one he spends some time fidgetting with. Adjusting the fletch, positioning it just so. Then his index and center fingers wrap around the fine bowstring and he draws it back, resting the arrow's fletching against his cheekbone before releasing.
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Barafinnel has taken 2/4 turns.
A slight murmur of encouragement escapes from Duinlas's lips as he watches Halamoth take a bullseye.
Sidhel looks at the contestants with much interest. And from not too far he overhears the conversation of the secondborn. "Interesting it shall be, no doubt," he says to Kylin while turning his head towards them. "But not... Aiya! A grand shot," he exclaims and flicks his gaze back to the targets as Halamoth's second arrow hits the mark.
Maglind stands on the tips of his toes, peering over the heads of the crowd to see the competition.
Whistling in appreciation at the fine shots thus far, Rush grins and nudges an elbow towards Kylin. "It seems they will take some beating. I should hate to give them a reason to send their shafts after me. I do hope they never consider me an enemy..."
Halamoth laughs deeply, quite amused. "I once struck a knot in a tree from twenty leagues away! The knot told me my form was awful." He draws yet another arrow, and releases it even more swiftly than before.
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Halamoth has taken 3/4 turns.
"So it would seem wrong," agrees the Silvan softly, allowing a chuckle. His shaft does not hit as cleanly as Halamoth's, though nor does it miss the target. Discerningly eyeing this he takes another arrow and rests it on the shaft, drawing back the bowstring once more and taking his time in sighting.
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Barafinnel has taken 3/4 turns.
The judges see the tie and wait for the final volleys...
Talbinor twists his longbow about in his grip, carving a small hole in the snow beneath his feet. The perfect shot shot from Barafinnel draws a bushy brown eyebrow up Talbinor's forehead and he nods in appreciation, but he seems little less impressed by the general high accuracy. "Let none impugn the accuracy of Imladris's archers!" he says, rolling back onto his heels, his eyes focused on the shooters.
"A fine shot," says Kylin, clapping, as the center is hit "Nor I, Rush, nor I," he says from the side of his mouth as he watches the arrows stuck in the target.
"My, what stroke that was!" Halamoth replies, laughing as his opponent draws so near to the center. "Let us hope we do not split each other's arrows, friend!" He draws back his bow for the final time and releases, though he takes little time to aim.
Halamoth releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 65
Halamoth has taken 4/4 turns.
Still the Dunedain's Captain watches -- and after the third shot, he begins an easy stroll toward the others. In silence, a gentle smile dances in his eyes to belie otherwise his solemnity.
And as they prepare to take the fourth, he kneels to string his bow--
--looking up in time to catch Halamoth's bull's eye. "Oh, fair shot!" says he.
"Difficult this will be, Halamoth," chuckles Barafinnel gently again. Lifting out the final arrow for this round. Drawing it to, he releases the shaft. A whir of feathers...and then...
Barafinnel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Barafinnel has taken 4/4 turns.
...A resounding 'thwack' as the final arrow hits.
His attention now fully drawn to the performance of the unlike pair, ancient Sinda and young Silvan, Sidhel intently follows the shooting. "Amazing," he murmurs as Halamoth strikes the center again." Raising his voice, he calls out: "That very tree should be here and watch you today, Halamoth, and it would think different of your form!"
Duinlas leans back on his heels, a slight look of disappointment to see Barafinnel miss the final shot and fall behind Halamoth, but he gives a smile and shakes his head, speaking to those around him, "It looks as if all have come very prepared for today."
The judges rise and those who are attending the targets come out from hiding. The arrows' placement is examined a signal is sent back to the judge by the two contestants. He calls out in a clear voice, "In the first round, Halamoth leads with 65 points. Barafinnel follows with 60! Let the second pair come forward."
"A fine bout!" Halamoth observes suddenly. "What is your name, friend? If songs were sung of tournaments our arrows would inspire great verses, at least until our scores were beaten!" He laughs merrily, then approaches Barafinnel. Turning, Halamoth says, "I am sure it would!" to Sidhel.
As the final two shots are tallied and scored, assistants clear away the used targets, bringing in fresh ones to take their place.
"Barafinnel," chuckles the young ellon with a light bow, tucking his bow beneath one arm and now moving away from the firing range of the targets. "Of Imladris. And yourself? I would think honestly that we should see some great manner of skill this day!"
Duinlas strides forward at the call, "Well there is little reason to go first or last, so I will go now in the middle," he says in a lilting voice of song. His longbow gleaming with a freshly applied shine.
"And finely did they shoot!" calls Halbarad as he steps forward -- and his praise is honest, offered with a quiet smile. Toward Sidhel, then, he lifts his bow. "I shall."
"Now then," smiles Lominhur to Kylin, pointing out towards the older Ranger, "this fellow is one to watch. A fine archer, and just as skilled with a blade. A fearsome foe to wrongdoers, so I hear..."
Talbinor applauds Barafinnel and Halamoth complete their shooting, and applauds some more as two new competitors boldly step forth. "Hopefully, the Captain shall relieve me from the strain of having to represent the Rangers in the final round," he says, leaning forward on his bow slightly so it bends just a bit beneath his weight. He watches this round rather more intensely than the last, left fingers twisting a little bit as if rolling an imaginary arrow between them.
Maglind steps to intercept Barafinnel, longbow dangling loosely from his hand as he calls cheerfully, "Mellon. I see your skill with the bow surpasses even your skill with the sword!"
Sidhel grins as the two stride forward to the line and he replies to Halbarad: "Would you mind if I asked you to leave this place to me? I would very much love to compare my skills to those of my friend Duinlas."
Kylin sits back and crosses his arms across his chest once again as two new contestants step forward. He cuts a brief glance at Rush, then back to the two does he look "So you hear...yes." He smiles "I shall watch closely to this then, see if your words ring true, Rush."
"Hal of the Wild and Duinlas of the Valley, shoot straight with strength, friends." The judges clear the way and the attendants seek cover and when all is prepared, the lead judge nods, the signal to proceed.
A soft sigh comes from Duinlas as Halbarad steps next to him, "Oh, splendid company for me. What do you say, captain, but a bottle per bullseye?" he asks the Ranger in a loud voice for all to hear. Then drawing up his longbow he takes his first shot on his target.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Duinlas has taken 1/4 turns.
"But then the judges may not have it," muses Sidhel and steps back.
Booted, light elven footsteps pull up short as Maglind steps in front of Barafinnel. The red-haired Silvan gives a laugh, winking once at him. "And yet I've need of so much more practice," he admits softly, though his lips pull upwards into a grin. "I thank you for your compliment, mellon! Will you be shooting today?"
"Halamoth Stormfoot of Doriath, Harlindon, and Mithlond," he replies, bowing slightly in return. "Yes, I also believe we shall. There is rumor of a Man having great skill with the bow, and I wish to watch each Man this day, and also the Firstborn! Let us go to the stands." Halamoth walks to a place where he might watch.
With a quick suck of his teeth, Lominhur's eyes flit to Sidhel, and he regards the elf thoughtfully a moment or two. He then looks back to the target to see the first shot and he chuckles. "I have a feeling they shall ring true indeed. After all, I am hardly one to lie, now am I?"
Sidhel's request draws the Captain's brow into an arch -- and draws from him also a moment's pause.
But it is but a moment.
"Of course," he grants, and steps back, calling to the judge -- "Let this one take Hal's place -- I shan't come between friends."
The head judge nods and Sidhel's name is inserted.
Sidhel bows to the Man and to then to the judges. "Very well, mellon," he addresses Duinlas. "A bottle per bullseye it shall be. But you lead now." With that he draws and arrow from the quiver, nocks it and releases.
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Sidhel has taken 1/4 turns.
Kylin still watches the pair that have taken center stage "No...no you haven't, Rush. I did not mean to say otherwise," he then looks to the man "I hope that my manner of speech did not seem to suggest you have or do?"
"Always a pleasure to see friends shoot against each other," Talbinor says with a smile to nobody in particular, easing up on his bow-leaning now that it's just two elves shooting for each other. "Particularly when they are skilled marksmen." Two arrows to the inner ring draw an appreciative nod from the Ranger.
"No lead for long, it seems, mellon. But perhaps it is the cold affecting the arrows. A drafty wind down the field. The flapping of lips from the stands. All these I hold blame for deprieving me of a bottle of wine!" Duinlas exclaims. His hands resting on his hips before he lifts his bow up again and takes a second shot, the sound of his draw almost musical as he hums a fair note upon release.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Duinlas has taken 2/4 turns.
A grin upon his face, Barafinnel finds himself a place to sit amongst the spectators. Longbow is rested over his knees and he toys with the string now and then, watching Sidhel and Duinlas's contest with interest.
"Perhaps," answers Maglind to Barafinnel's question, turning back to the targets and the Elves who shoot at them.
"Excuses," teases Sidhel with a grin. "You might need those, but let us see if I would have to justify my form in the end." Again he set a shaft to the bowstring and takes aim for but the bit of a second. The bow sings, the arrow flies!
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Sidhel has taken 2/4 turns.
"Nay," answers Rush to Kylin, and he rests his hand upon the man's shoulder anew, "you have not. I was merely spouting. Now, this is a turn up, and no mistake. I wonder who of these two friends will gain the upper hand...'
"It is no excuse but an observation of our noisy fans who speak with such gusto to cause my own shots to deviate!" Duinlas replies, taking another arrow from his quiver and staring down at the targets. This time he pauses a bit before loosing his next shot.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Duinlas has taken 3/4 turns.
Removed of his place -- and yet, he seems unphased for it, for a quiet smile remains in Captain's silver-grey eyes -- Halbarad watches this bout. "Aye, brother," says he lightly to Talbinor. "Though I shan't shoot against you -- my shoulders still ache from the masquerade."
Hearing Duinlas's criticism, Talbinor calls out, "I beg your pardon, good sir!" in an intentionally over-loud voice with a small smile as soon as the arrow is safely away from his bow. But as said arrow drives into the bullseye Talbinor rocks back on his heels into the snow a bit and nods at once. "Though with shooting like that, perhaps more shouting would drive you to victory!"
The Captain's words gets Talbinor to turn towards the fellow-Ranger, and he nods with a small smile on his face. "Between your shoulders and my shoddy marksmanship, we could make a great display for the Rangers. A shame Rush shall not compete; he at least is healthy!"
"Noisy they are," admits Sidhel. "But can you ignore them? That is the trait of the archer that he forgets all around him but the target." He briefly inspects the bowstring, then he pulls another arrow from the quiver. Swiftly the new missile is then send on its way.
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Sidhel has taken 3/4 turns.
"A shame indeed," agrees Halbarad with a glance over his shoulder toward the spectators -- and as his eyes land on Rush and Kylin, a brow arches.
But he does not call out.
Rush cannot fail to hear Talbinor's words, and he laughs out as soon as Sidhel's arrow is loosed. "Healthy perhaps, but a poor marksman. I would not embarass us Menfolk in such a way."
Halamoth sits quiet while the archers take aim, but cheers when each arrow strikes the target. "A center each!" he calls, somewhat enthused, before growing silent again and waiting for the final shots.
"How can I forget when there is wine riding on each shot?" Duinlas says exasperatedly, staring at a bullseye to match his own. He draws back another arrow and looses it toward his target with a swift motion.
Duinlas releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 55
Duinlas has taken 4/4 turns.
"That is good to hear," Kylin responds softly after hearing the words from Duinlas, and chuckles. When the arrows fly, and the thud of them striking the distant target the man nods "Another fine shot. I would be so lucky to even strike the outer edges. "It seems that that one has taken the lead. Yet another arrow to go."
Even when Hal looks their way, he keeps his attention - so it would seem - onto the archers.
"And you shall provide the wine, I suppose," says Sidhel with amusement riding upon his words. He ponders which arrow to chose from the quiver, but not long and he has found one that seems suited. With a fluid movement he then combines nocking, drawing, aiming and releasing to send this last arrow towards the target.
Sidhel releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Sidhel has taken 4/4 turns.
The judges trot down the field as attendants appear. Arrows are measured, placement is judged and signals are sent even as the attendants change the targets now for the next pair.
The lead judge calls out clearly, "Halamoth, sixty-five; Barafinnel and Sidhel, sixty; Duinlas, fifty-five. The game is afoot. Who will step forward next?" He looks to Halbarad again even as the attendants finish their work and all clear the field once more.
His shake of the head, "Almost, mellon Sidhel, almost. But our bullseyes countered each other, and so we will have to settle the bottle count another time," Duinlas replies as he strides away from the contestant's mark, "A bad day for me, it seems."
"Unless another likes this place more," replies Halbarad with a quiet smile, stepping forward once more and casting his eyes about the others as though in honest question, "I shall."
Barafinnel laughs and claps his head as the second round finishes. "Well done!" he calls, grinning to himself. So far, he may not have the highest score, but he has made the best mark!
"Might as well," mutters Maglind quietly, pushing his way through the crowd. He steps near the shooting-mark, waving a hand to the judges. "If I may?"
"Care for a wager?" asks Lominhur of Kylin as Halbarad steps forth. "I back Hal to take the contest, would you disagree?"
"Maglind of the Sindar and Hal of the Wild!" The lead judge nods, giving both the go-ahead to begin.
"Who would you favor, Rush? One is of your party, the other a guest," Kylin says as he turns to face with a smile. "And what would be the wager?"
"Ah, you take one of your party...then so be it. I shall take the Firstborn, gladly," Kylin says as he turns to face with a smile. "And what would be the wager?"
Halamoth claps and cheers, then grows quiet and turns his attention forward. He smiles as the first of the Men step forward, and then he grows quiet and still.
Kylin chuckles "An oath...now wouldn't that depend on the oath that you would propose before I accept it?"
"Still we shall have wine tonight," replies Sidhel to his friend. "I have gotten a bottle of wine from Dorwinion from the Ndaedeldhrim, mind you. This we shall sample tonight," he says. Then he looks at the newly arrived competitors at the line. "An interesting pairing," he finds.
Long strides carrying him easily to the mark, the cleaner of the Rangers draws an arrow and fits it to his bow -- but does not shoot quite yet.
"Pray, friend," he indicates to Maglind in the same tongue, "Take the first."
Lominhur chuckles and grins to Kylin, nodding. "Indeed, it would. And so I name the oath to be inclusion in the contests. I wish to hear you sing of your travels before us all. And, what oath would you have me make, should Hal fare less well than I think?"
Appeared in Barafinnel's hand, from somewhere or another, is an acorn. With a slight mischievous gleam in his eye, the young Silvan works it over his fingers, intent upon the next round unfolding.
"My thanks," replies Maglind, carefully drawing a grey-fletched arrow from his quiver, "and apologies, for unlike the previous pair I have no wine. Nor anything else worth wagering."
With a rueful grin the Elf nocks, draws, and fires his first shaft at the painted targets.
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Maglind has taken 1/4 turns.
Kylin laughs "Me, sing...I fear that if I were to do so the Firstborn would come running to see what manner of an animal would in in such suffering. Perhaps we could do this," Kylin says as he taps a finger on his chin "I would tell a tale of my travels to the most distant place I have been to should I loose and you shall do the same should you?
"Nor have I," replies Halbarad softly, but only after Maglind has taken his shot, and then--
"Well fired!"
Fingers wrap lightly around the string of his own bow then and he pauses to sight the target, then lets loose.
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Halbarad has taken 1/4 turns.
"Oh!" murmurs Barafinnel with a surprised blink as Halbarad's shot hits the dead center of the target. He blinks again, then gives an abrupt laugh. "I can no longer claim the best shot!"
Gasps are heard from the crowd as the first two shots are not well placed, but rather very well placed. Spontaneous applause erupts.
Talbinor lifts his eyebrow bemusedly as the first shot strikes home. "Very good," he murmurs to himself under his breath, still playing with his longbow in the snow. Then, more conversationally, "My concerns are increasingly moving from whether I shall be first in this contest to whether I shall be last." But Halbarad's precise hit in follow-up causes Talbinor to take a little step back, then simply chuckle.
"I fear you may have to scale your bet down," Talbinor calls over towards Kylin and Lominhur. "On both counts. For it appears there will be a tremendous duel of archery in this pair."
Duinlas applauds first for Maglind and then even harder for Halbarad, "It is fortunate I did not go against either of those two, I would be having a deficit in wine, I think."
Sighing as if disappointed, Lominhur nevertheless nods his head to Kylin. "That is not the fullness of my hope, but it is better than aught. Very well, I accept." Turning to look then at the two excellent shots go flying in, he grins. "This will be a close wager."
"That is... remarkable," murmurs Sidhel at Halbarad's shot. His brows raised he glances at the target, and no doubt - there sits the arrow in the very centre. Turning to Duinlas he says: "This Man should serve wine for all after the contest."
"Oh! The same to you," replies Maglind with a blinking of long lashes, twirling the next arrow in his fingers. Calmly he sets it on the string, pulling back and releasing it soundlessly.
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Maglind has taken 2/4 turns.
No spoken answer, now -- the contest is begun proper, and Halbarad cants his head to the praise. He draws another arrow from his quiver and sets it once more to the bowstring.
A moment's pause, then--
--Twang.
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Halbarad has taken 2/4 turns.
Where there was a gasp of awe before, there is now a gasp of angst as the archery battle seems to be ending as soon as it began. "Maglind can't make up the deficit now?!"
Duinlas blinks and raises an eyebrow, then calling out loudly in a joking tone, "Perhaps we should move back Halbarad's target several more strides!"
"I think I believe the good Captain will be winning!" laughs Barafinnel in surprise as the other arrow hits the center, as well. Shaking his head he sits back, looking truly surprised. "I will be very afraid of the good Captain!"
Chuckling Kylin looks to the Talbinor "I have faith and agree that this shall be, as you say, a tremendous duel." He waves his hand "But now it is in the hands of the two bowmen...and there, just as he turns back the arrow strikes the target. Then the second - yet his head remains held high as his 'own' contestant falls behind, something he can tell even from here.
Sidhel nods vividly as Duinlas suggests this. "He should verily shoot from twenty leagues away. And not on a tree's knot but on a pinhead. Such archery has not been seen for long!"
With a wry smile twisting his lips, Maglind merely nods in Halbarad's direction and launches his third arrow flying from the longbow with a hiss.
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Maglind has taken 3/4 turns.
Halbarad's second shot draws a wince from Rush, and he looks away for a moment. "It is almost painful to imagine that fellow ever thinking badly of you. I do hope I never get on his bad side..." Just then Maglind's third thuds home, and he grins. "But, all is not lost yet for your pick..."
An Elf of Lothlorien near the back calls out in heavily accented Sindarin: "GO MAGLIND!"
A third arrow -- grey-fletched, long, and straight -- meets the Captain's bowstring, and he draws back.
But the shout from the Elf of Lothlorien makes him pause, and draws a smile to his face.
"Your companions are noble, friend," says he, then draws the arrow and lets it loose.
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Direct center. An unbelievable shot!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 75
Halbarad has taken 3/4 turns.
The crowd sees now collectively that it is over. Even with a perfect mark in the final shot, Maglind can only hope to tie for a few moments before Halbarad takes his own shot... That is unless the Dunadan misses completely...
Talbinor can only shake his head, clapping his hands as arrows whip in the general vicinity of perfection. As Halbarad makes his third consecutive perfect shot, this observing Ranger just smiles wryly, glancing around at the spectators of various parts of Middle-earth. "Do not think the Captain represents us all," he cautions the spectators with a small smile. "There are few even among us who have -that- skill with the bow, and I should hate to shatter any illusions at my turn."
Looking to his betting partner Kylin chuckles and another perfect shot is made "It seems as if your fellow can not miss the center of the target," then tilts his head in respect "I think if one were to be found to be on the wrong end of Hal's arrows, one would not feel pain but for an instant."
"And noisy, too," replies the Elf at the archery-mark, tossing a sharp glance backwards. "Ah..." And Maglind repeats his sagittal ritual for the last time, nocking, drawing, firing...
Maglind releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Maglind has taken 4/4 turns.
The crowd now waits for Halbarad's last shot. The question is now how high will his score go? Can he shoot a perfect hundred? Can any match that?
Lominhur folds his arms and watches; breathless and smiling.
"Would that my brethren offered such support," replies Halbarad with a wry twist of his lips -- and a glance over his shoulder at the stands. A moment's afternoon sunlight dances laughing in his eyes.
Drawing an arrow, he turns back toward the target. His movements are slow, and they are smooth: the arrow is nocked, the string drawn, the target sighted, and--
Halbarad releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 95
Halbarad has taken 4/4 turns.
"Well done, Man of the West! Well done, Maglind!" Halamoth cheers from the stands. He claps several times, then says, "Once I saw a man of Hurin's house strike a great wolf in the eye from afar. Since then I have not seen a better display of archery by Eldar or Edain!" He claps a few more times, then goes quiet.
Duinlas applauds, "Brilliant display of marksmanship, mellyn!"
Awed by this performance of the Captain, Sidhel shakes his head. "Astounding," he calls out. "And well done, indeed! "
Barafinnel breaks into merry applause as the final arrow is released. "Well done, good Captain!" shouts the Silvan joyously, letting out a loud laugh, deep grey eyes glinting. "WELL DONE INDEED!"
The Captain does not turn to the crowd and their approbation until, first, he salutes Maglind.
"I could not have asked a finer opponent," he says, his quiet words nearly drowned by the merry applause.
And then he steps back, and with that same reserve allows the next to take their places.
Talbinor just shakes his head and applauds as Halbarad misses by such a fractional margin. "Two fine shooters," he mumbles to nobody in particular, his head wagging with the little smile of somebody who knows he's just seen something remarkable. "I can only hope us remaining marksmen provide half that level of skill."
The judges hurry out to the targets and all look quite impressed as they measure Halbarad's arrows. The targets are changed out by the attendants as the judges walk back to their places and the scores are relayed to the head judge. Once the attendants downrange give the all-clear, the judge calls out, "Hal of the Wild shot an exceptional ninety-five! Halamoth is second with sixty-five. I remind everyone that the two with the highest marks will face each other in the Grand Final! Who will step forward to challenge Hal's high mark?"
With a clap to Kylin's back, Rush is all smiles. "A shame that he dropped those final points, for had he scored prefectly, I think we could have declared our wager null and void. But, as you see, he is not infallable... so then, i shall hold you to your oath."
"Archery as fitting for a Captain," says the Elf, returning with a deep bow, "well done indeed."
And Maglind turns, and with a flutter of his grey cloak steps into the crowd.
Kylin shakes his head in mock sadness as the last arrow strikes home and the scores are announced. "Your fellow shoots well and a bet we have made. Perhaps in the eve, near the fire my tale I recount to you over the fine wine of the Firstborn?"
Lominhur says, "I would like that," and he bows his head."
Talbinor steps forward to the competing area. "I shall try to follow my Captain's fine example, if I may," he says with a small bow to the judges before he turns to address the targets.
As the next man steps forward and speaks, Kylin's head rises slowly, deliberately and he studies first the one called Talbinor then the one named Hal. A smile spreads, slowly, till at last it is full upon him. He mouths the word "Captain," soundlessly.
"You noticed that did you?" grins Rush, unashamedly, and his eyes still on Kylin.
"Shoot well, brother," replies Halbarad to Talbinor as he leaves the list, clapping the other ranger on the arm -- and he passes by then, bow light in his hand as he approaches Kylin and Lominhur.
"What's this I hear upon the wind," he asks, eyes dancing with the smile that barely brushes his lips, "About a wager?"
The smile still fixed on him as Kylin looks to Rush. A tilt of his head "I try not to miss much, good Sir. Sometimes it is the things you miss that can cost you dearly."
The lead judge calls out, "Who will stand as the second of this pair?" He looks around at those busy talking.
A scimitar-like lady in white carrying a fine yew bow approaches the judges and speaks quietly to them, mild and friendly eyes blue-green flames...
Halamoth rises suddenly, and bounds into the wheat fields. Moments later he seems gone.
The lead judge bends down and speaks quietly with the lady, "If you wish, you may go next, Lady."
After Hal has neared and speaks, Kylin bows his head "That was fine shooting, Captain. Perhaps the best I have ever seen." Then he chuckles and nods "A wager indeed...seems I owe Rush a tale. It would be good if you could join us. Over wine," he glances at Rush "and near the a fire I think we have agreed upon?"
The lead judge calls, "The Green Lady will face Restless of the Wilds!"
Lifting up his hands around his mouth, Barafinnel shouts out in gentle mockery of the one called 'Restless': "Face!"
When she reaches the spot, she stops and nocks the arrow. The yew bow seems almost as tall as she as she pulls back her arm...
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Eledurima has taken 1/4 turns.
Duinlas smiles slightly as he moves slightly aside and stands beside Sidhel, "Mellon, how do you feel Halbarad will fare against the clay targets?" a light smile playing over his face.
No reaction from the lady. Her concentration is set. She nocks another arrow and pulls.
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Eledurima has taken 2/4 turns.
"Ah," grins Rush to Halbarad, and he indicates Kylin. "A mere friendly bet upon how you would fare. I had every confidence in you, of course."
Talbinor leans casually on his bow, waiting patiently without word for a second competitor, and when the newly arrived contestant steps forward he bows politely in her direction. "May your arrows fly true," he says, simply, before straightening up and shifting over slightly, putting his right foot forward, standing perpendicular to the target, clutching his longbow in his right hand.
The Green Lady's shot draws a small raise of Talbinor's eyebrow and an appreciative nod. He plucks his arrow forth in his left hand, nocks it to the string, and, as she's decided to fire her four in sequence, patiently waits with arrow and drawstring slack in his grip.
Eledurima takes a deep breath and then exhales it through her nose, still no reaction. She looks toward the other archer and steps back. Her eyes, however, are still veiled with concentation.
"Those? Ah, we shall see," muses Sidhel and a smile enter his face as well. "Shooting a static target is one thing, but hitting a bird of clay is another. But not let us see how the Hiril fares." He turn to watch the Green Lady.
The lead judge waves to Restless to go on now that Eledurima has stepped back.
Maglind has found a nice spot near the front, and now he merely stands and watches the rest of the shooting, longbow twirling idly into the snow.
Talbinor looks a bit surprised when the Lady takes a pause at two shots, but he simply nods. "Very well," he says, lifting his arm up and pulling the string back, holding it for a little longer than is usual as he perhaps overaims a bit, and then he fires his first shaft.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Talbinor has taken 1/4 turns.
"Thank you, friend," is Halbarad's polite reply to Kylin -- a reserved reply, as well, as his eyes graze the fellow for a good, long moment.
"Of course, Rush--" he says then to the other, but pauses at the twang of bowstrings and turns to catch the Green Lady's shots.
"A tale? I should love to hear it," he says then quietly.
And to Kylin's use of Captain? No reaction at all.
The first shot gets Talbinor to grimace a bit, and, operating rather more quickly this time, he grabs another arrow, puts it on the string, lifts, draws, and fires rapidly, stepping back out of the way even as the arrow flies through the air.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Talbinor has taken 2/4 turns.
The lead judge now looks to the Green Lady and smiles, waving for her to take her place for the final two shots.
Then the arrows give flight, and the thud of the targets as each hit are heard over the speech of the men "Seems another of your party is now up to the line. Let us see if he fares as well as you did?"
Another figure approaches the training fields from the wheat fields -- it should be no surprise that he carries a bow. Haldir slackens long stride even before reaching the field proper, carefully maneuvering a path which carries him closer to the front: and a vantage point.
He ends up near Maglind, to whom he directs a question, in customary, accented Sindarin: "<Sindarin> How does the competition fare?
Eledurima watches Talbinor with a somewhat detached aire of one who is caught in her own mind. However, when he does well, a smile breaks through. Her soft voice is full of music as she speaks, "And now, were I delighted if only I were to find that the shafts might never pierce a living thing but only the targets in this valley."
She glances at the judges for a sign.
The lead judge now looks to the Green Lady and smiles, waving for her to take her place for the final two shots.
Eledurima steps to the line again with another deep breath, entering again that state of concentration, nocking the arrow into the tall yew bow and drawing, even and smooth and calm..
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Eledurima has taken 3/4 turns.
No reaction. Ele nocks the next shaft, draws smoothly and lets fly.
Eledurima releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 70
Eledurima has taken 4/4 turns.
Ere he is able to mask his actions, Lominhur's eyes flit to Haldir as he speaks in his elven tongue, though he clears his throat a moment later and is all smiles anew. "What say you, good sir?" asks he of Halbarad, "Who do you think will be your opponent in the final round?"
"Let us, indeed," says the reticent Captain -- and see, indeed! The Lady's second shots draw a brow sharply upward.
"Faith though I have in my brother, I think the Lady shall try my skill in the final."
A slight smile now, and the lady turns to Talbinor. "Thank you, sir." She says softly as she retires from the line and steps back, her part over.
As the Lady finishes her shots, Talbinor steps forward again with an impressed expression on his face. Looking over at her before he plucks forth his third arrow, he bows slightly in her direction. "Impressive shots," he says with the voice of a man who means it. "I know that I could not best that given a hundred attempts; but I doubt there are few here who could."
Then the third arrow comes up, Talbinor draws the string back, and, with a grimace on his face even as he aims, he shoots.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Talbinor has taken 3/4 turns.
A few of the Green-elves who live in Imladris come forward and clap at their lady. "Well done!" they call merrily.
Despite the smile he offers Haldir, the sentinel sounds slightly crestfallen.
"Agh!" An actual verbal expression of irritation breaks the Ranger's stoic visage, and he cannot hide his anger with himself as he jerks out his last arrow with clear irritation. He mumbles some curses far too quietly for anybody else to hear and draws the string back, holding it, taking a deep breath, and firing.
Talbinor releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Talbinor has taken 4/4 turns.
Nodding "It does seem that way to me as well. The speech of the Elven tongue does draw Kylin's attention, but only for an instant. If he understands it or not no indication is given by the man. Instead he looks back to the archers, watching.
Halamoth walks back from the fields in time to see the final shots. He claps several times, then moves back to where he stood once more. Falling silent, he peers with keen eyes towards the targets down the range.
Eledurima turns and takes herself out of the way so that others may step up. A mischievous smile greets the Imladris Laiquendi and she goes to join them and greet them, careful to stay out of the way. When she comes to them after a few moments, she turns again to the competition, watching and listening.
Barafinnel is quiet now as he watches Talbinor, chuckling and looking up at the sky in an innocent manner.
The baren feet of Lisiranya step silently across the ground, weaving through the large crowd to come onto the innerskirt for a better view of the ongoings. With Ennedlorion fast asleep within the tent it has given Lisil an oppurtunity to explore a bit more than usual. Her slender limbs curling within one another across her abdomen as she comes to a pause. Emerald orbs, still duller than normal, shift over towards the scene that unfolds before her.
The attendants move forward to remove the targets as judges trot down to measure. Within moments, new targets are in place and the judges return to hand over the results to the lead judge.
The lead judge calls out clearly, "A fine contest we have! Hal of the Wild remains in the lead with ninety-five! The Green Lady is now in second with seventy! Who will stand forth for the next pairing?"
Another arrow chews into the perimetre of the target and Talbinor just shakes his head, tossing the bow in his grip slightly as he turns and walks back to the spectator area, his expression grim, his head wagging in dissatisfaction. "I am a poor shot, but even for me that was shoddy," he says to nobody in particular, heading towards the Halbarad/Lominhur/Kylin mortal cluster.
Talbinor does not sit, rather planting his longbow in the ground angrily as he begins to destring it. "I can make no excuse," says the rather crestfallen Ranger. "I did poorly. Hopefully I shall receive years enough to make a better showing next time."
Though he nods in acknowledgment, Haldir yet offers another query, slight concern and curiosity discernable even amongst the accented Sindarin: "<Sindarin> Have you participated? It would be ill for the honour of the Elves if the Secondborn took both the sparring and archery contests."
Sidhel cants his head and again he looks moist impressed as the Hiril en Dannas finishes her shooting. "..., ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... of ...," he muses. Then he turns abrubtly and approaches Halamoth. "... ... ... ... ...," he tells him and from a pouch he pulls forth a small scroll. "... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..., ... ... our paths ... each .... ... Talroch ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...."
"Poor luck my friend," smiles Lominhur to Talbinor as his fellow Ranger makes his way over. "I fear they cast a spell on you. Did you hear that they can do that?" he asks then of Kylin.
As Talbinor approaches, Halbarad offers him a tightly sympathetic smile and a clap on the shoulder. "Worry not, brother," says he mildly, his own bow still strung. "You and I shall beset the targets when all the crowds have left, and I will direct you to the middle."
But even as he speaks to Talbinor, his eyes follow the Green Lady -- gauging, perhaps, and he offers a tilt of his head in distant congratulation.
Eledurima's ever watchful eyes catch sight of the Galadhrim...Mild and sweet they are as the small smile that usually inhabits her lips deepens to include her eyes. She turns and says a quick word to the Laiquendi standing beside her and then starts her progress toward them..
Brows rise as he turns to Rush "I had not heard such as this." Kylin watches the other for a time then laughs "I think that a jest has been made and I fell for it clearly."
To Talbinor "I think if I had taken up the contest, I would be the one speaking so. YOu did well to my eyes."
The young Silvan Barafinnel is still quiet now, resting back within his seat. Deep grey eyes look towards the small group of mortals curiously, and he tilts his pointy-eared head. Then, pressing one hand down, he rises up to make his way towards them.
Halamoth takes the scroll and opens it, then reads its contents and says, "An honor! Hmm. I shall attend, with certainty." Halamoth closes the parchment and smiles, then sets it into his clothes, adding, "I have been bested here today already, so I think that now I will depart. I had looked forward to the clay, though." He lauths, then turns and walks southward again.
"I fear you would need a map, Captain," Talbinor answers Halbarad with a small smirk, flipping his bow over quickly to destring the other end before slipping it back over his back and setting it in position, being very careful not to concuss any of the other observers with an ill-swing piece of lumber.
"A spell is the obvious explanation," Talbinor says with a nod to Lominhur. "And my opponent took two shots at once. That disrupted my concentration." He smiles as he says it, the anger diminishing, his voice not even pretending to believe the words it dispenses.
After a momentary glance, brief nod, and warm smile to the approaching Eledurima, Haldir looks towards the Sentinel, the question still evident in the fringe of voice. "<Sindarin> I presume it did not fair well?"
Winking to Kylin, Rush then studies the gathered crowd and he coughs. "Absolutely, Talbinor. Well, I will not have it said that I alone of our band of travellers failed to rise to the challenge. Let me see if I can avenge their witchery, though I doubt I shall do more than provide amusement."
Lominhur steps forth then to the line and he grins to Sidhel. "If any other wish to have an easy victory, I shall provide it. I too wish to try."
The lead judge looks around for any more volunteers. Seeing Lominhur, he nods and waits to see if any will join this Man.
As the lead judge calls out for another pairing to step forward, a thought ignites within the deep recesses of her mind. The invisible tugging at her comes to life, as the baren feet take life 'pon the ground once again. Silent in their tred Lisiranya steps up towards the line. Her emerald gaze shifts over towards Lominhur for a brief moment, offering a solemn nod before turning her gaze to the lead judge. A few stray locks of obsidian slide across the sides of her ivory face as the shades of pink spark to life within the darkness of the mouth. Her tongue as if dipped in silver as the words unravel into the air. "I also will try."
Eledurima says in Sindarin, "The lady reaches the group...but indeed it is the tall stern maethyr whom she finds. Her eyes are glimmering with both admiration and affection. She stops before her, much smaller than he, and waits for him to complete his thought before speaking..."
"Even if the ranger does not hit the targets well, I would still wish him as a bow in battle beside me," says the Silvan as he comes to pause nearby the group of Men, smiling to each in turn. A wink is given to Talbinor and he straightens up, shoulders squared. "After all, you did still hit the target. An arrow in the leg would slow an orc."
With the arrival of the Elf-woman, the judge smiles and calls, "Rush of the Wild faces maiden of Greenwood, Lisiranya!" He nods then for them to begin.
A soft chuckle escapes Halbarad and he gives his head a gentle shake, "You should know better, brother -- I never need a map."
A wink, and he watches Lominhur step up. "I thought he disdained the competition?" he asks with a glance aside to Kylin.
The lady reaches the group...but indeed it is the tall stern maethyr whom she finds. Her eyes are glimmering with both admiration and affection. She stops before her, much smaller than he, and waits for him to complete his thought before speaking...
"<Sindarin> Ah, but the true skill has yet to be shown, Halamoth," replies Sidhel as the old edhel eyes the clay disks. It seems though the master mason from Lindon is not interested in the tourney anymore. And then Rush comes and addresses him, so Sidhel says: "<Sindarin> Your kinsman has shown a remarkable shooting. Such skills are not easily found today."
"<Sindarin> Well, if the target was live, and unmoving," answers Maglind, still pointedly staring at something far away, "<Sindarin> he would have died, but not with a direct shaft to the heart."
Taking up a bow, Rush postures and tugs upon the string as if examining its quality. A tap of the wood, rub of the grip, and finally he seems satisfied. "This one seems to fit me," he declares. "It is a crooked as I have hopeless. Perhaps you might go first, my lady," he adds with a bow to Lisiranya, "so that I might watch and see how it is done?"
"Then perhaps I will stay to see how the arrows fair." Halamoth pauses and turns back, then becomes quite still and turns his attention to the competition again. He waits patiently.
When Hal gives Kylin a glance he asks "This should prove interesting, yes?"
Once again onto the training grounds, the Ranger Nauthcel strides. His ashen gaze passes over the specators who watch intently the archery contest until it comes to rest upon the Captain. Towards the kin, the Constant slowly walks until, within comfortable speaking tones, he asks, "How does this competition fair?"
"Aye," agrees Halbarad, lowering himself into Rush's abandoned place and resting his bow between his knees and leaning forward for a better view of the show.
"That it shall."
He glances up at Nauthcel's voice, and a smile dances in his eyes. "Swordmaster -- you are late-come to win this one. But watch -- Rush gives it his best."
The corners of the elleth's lips curl upwards, forming a faint smile in return ot the words of Lominur. Another dip of her head forms a solemn nod towards him before turning her attention onto the target. Her lithe limbs uncurl from around one another, one reaching behind her to undo the longbow that rests on her back, then draws it into place. Lisiranya's fingers curl around the grip as she raises it in place, before plucking out a single arrow to notch it into position. Two fingers slip around the string of the bow, drawing it taunt as she takes aim. Slender brows narrowing down across her features as emerald orbs squint just a tad, releasing the string and sending the arrow forth.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 10
Lisiranya has taken 1/4 turns.
"A fair shot," Kylin says softly, almost to him self. Then a bit louder "Now let us see if Lominhur's shots are as bad as he makes out." When the last is said he looks to Hal, a smile on his face.
His words unanswered, Barafinnel merely shrugs to himself then goes to find another open seat. This time he sits at the edge, posture nearly erect and eyes focused upon the two contestants as they make their marks. As if there is any doubt whom the final two will be.
"At least Rush has little pressure on him," Talbinor observes fromhis standing observation with a small smile. "The Captain has shown us the best of the Rangers, and I have shown the worst. He can score safely between us and make a good account of himself." His voice is light, having managed to get over his failure at the targets, and he watches his fellow-Ranger shoot.
Watching how Lisiranya fares, Rush sniffs to himself and squints at the target. He says naught to his partner, though a smile is offered, and he then takes up an arrow from the unclaimed bundles. Nocking it to his he pulls back and somewhat shakily takes aim. A moment or two pass by until he finally looses his shaft.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Lominhur has taken 1/4 turns.
And Hal returns the smile, though his is softer -- more reserved. "Rush is not so poor a shot as he makes out," he observes, meeting Kylin's eyes with his own soft, silver-grey gaze.
With a bow, Maglind wordlessly allows the archery to draw his attention again; he turns from Haldir and the Lady, watching.
Eledurima 's lips part as she is addressed and her turquoise eyes twinkle. "<Sindarin> Indeed, sir! When I saw you I could hardly contain, so happy am I that you have made your way here! What a delight to see you again!" And her delight is, in fact, apparent. "<Sindarin> How are my lord and lady of the Wood? Will you take this prize to them by stepping to the line or are you here to judge?" Her voice is music.
A femine chuckle arises from Lisiranya as she watches her partner's arrow take flight ane striking into the inner ring. It has been quite some time since she has had the oppurtunity to pick up a longbow and fire and the rustyness showing through. Reminding herself of the training sessions with the Prince, she plucks up another arrow nocking it into place. Lisiranya's shoulders roll backwards, straightening her posture as she lifts the longbow up. Her fingers drawing the string taught as a deep breath inhales into her chest. Holding the breath in, she takes aim then releases the string.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Lisiranya has taken 2/4 turns.
The second shot hits the mark and Kylin squints at the targets "So close they are, I can not tell which is the better." Back to Hal he nods "I am getting the feeling that there is a lot of Rush that is not as he makes out."
Once more does Rush watch the elleth, and once more does he sniff as he sees her score. A second arrow is plucked from the bundles, and with the same uncertain handling as before he manages to ready his shot. Exhaling sharply as if steeling himself for disappointment he takes aim and lets fly his arrow.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow slams into the target.
Bullseye. An amazing shot!
20 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Lominhur has taken 2/4 turns.
"I think not," replies Hal with a light, smooth shake of his head -- and there is nothing coy nor dissembling in his manner. "His is but a simple, modest soul."
While watching the contestants, Man and elleth shoot against each other, Sidhel says to Halamoth: "I saw your statue, Hirgondramdan. As masterly as this secondborn, Hal, has shot today, as masterly have you wrought the likeness of Elu Thingol. A worthy entry to the competition of the artisans, truly!"
Kylin accepts the words from Hal with a simple nod "A fair one, it seems to me, as well. Though I do think that our wager on your match," he chuckles "well suffice it to say I would guess he know your skills with the bow before you ever stepped to the line."
Glancing down at Kylin from his standing position, Talbinor lifts an eyebrow down at him. "Must every man have his little secrets?" he asks with a slightly raised eyebrow. "Modest he is, but that is hardly a great mask he has to wear." His expression rather neutral, he looks back up to the targets just in time to see Lominhur score.
"Bravo," Talbinor mumbles to himself, nodding in appreciation. "Each shot nearer to the mark. Perhaps he yet has the stuff to put Ranger against Ranger in the final round - though the Lady certainly shot well." His eyes pass over into the crowd of Elves off to the side for a moment. "We shall see."
A slender brow arches upon the fair features of her face as she watches Rush's arrow strike true. Impressive to say the least. A corner of her lips curling upwards in a half grin as she reaches for another arrow. Nocking it into place, she draws the string back. Lisiranya's chest rises with a shallower breath as she attempts to rid the thousand thoughts that continue to pester her mind, and the worriness that dwells. A hard swallow is taken as she releases the string, sending the arrow zooming through the air towards the target.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 35
Lisiranya has taken 3/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> The Lord and Lady fare well," replies Haldir, lending a cursory glance to the ongoing competition, which garners naught but a raised brow from the marchwarden. "<Sindarin> She is present at this Congress, even now."
A hesitant shake of head prematurely betrays his reply: "<Sindarin> I am here to watch, unless need bids me join. To judge? Nay. I would not wander out and retrieve those arrows unless forced. It is too dangerous, with Secondborn and Dwarf around." There is veiled jest in his voice.
Nauthcel passes his gaze from Halbarad and focuses upon Lominhur, quietly observing his kin. A nod of approval is given as the arrows land firmly in the target. "Mayhap Rush will reveal all his secrets in time." The Constant then goes silent, eyes intent on the targets of the competitors.
"I know not if every man must have his secrets, but most do it seems to me," Kylin says to Talbinor before he looks back to the archery range.
Of secrets, Halbarad does not speak -- but tilts his head only in acquiescence.
Though, to which?
His eyes are fixed upon the contest.
Yet again does Rush wait patiently for his turn, but still he says naught either to Lisiranya or to any who's words he might overhear. Instead he exhales sharply once more and takes a third arrow from the sheath. This he nocks upon his unsteady string and pulls it taut with a frown of concentration. Closing his eyes for a moment he seems to be calming nerves ere he opens them and takes aim. There is a twang as his third dart speeds off towards the target.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Lominhur has taken 3/4 turns.
Gilaearon comes onto the field. Quickly surveying things, the echdir makes his way to the judge of the contest. "I apologize for my tardiness. I would like to join the contest.'
The judge looks down at Gilaearon and nods, saying, "In the next group, friend. Wait here until the elleth and the Man are finished."
"It is in great likeness to the King of Beleriand," Halamoth agrees, nodding. "In the stone I saw him, an so with only four and one night's work he came. I urge you to tell others to take a moonlit stroll to look upon him, for then they will see our great heritage and the King." Halamoth smiles, then says, "This Man of the West does also have some skill."
Lisiranya's lips purse tightly inwards as she watches Rush's arrow once more strike. She must get her mind cleared in order to steady her shot, though with all the happenings of lately and the images of the troll prancing within her mind it is hard to do just that. Elongated fingers pluck another arrow, nocking it into place. Her lips remain purse as she draws back the string. A few moments roll by until she finally releases sending the arrow whizing through the air.
Lisiranya releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Lisiranya has taken 4/4 turns.
"A close score, now it is up to your fellow Ranger," Kylin says. Though his words are not directed to anyone in particular.
"And I would want to show you something that also thrives under Ithil's light," says Sidhel in reply to Halamoth. "A plant that was last seen in fair Gondolin and that has now been bred anew in this vale. It is a bit ailing at the time being, but with Dinaloss' advice we hope to see it in its splendour soon."
Another tilt of his head -- Halbarad, it seems, has used his allotment of words this afternoon, and his lips remain closed as he watches Lominhur take his final shot.
Talbinor can hardly hide a wince at Lominhur's third shot going slightly awry. "Bad luck," he mumbles softly, not giving Kylin a reply. "I think that one is in the inner... no, it's in the middle ring. I suspect he should need a perfect volley on his next shot to remain in the competition."
Talbinor kneels slightly, bobbing down into a lower stance, dropping his eye level a bit so that, with his clear path to the targets, he can get a better angle of the shots. "The Elf has shot commendably as well," he adds, almost as an afterthought.
Eledurima laughs openly, however, at the remark of the tall Galadh with whom she stands. Her attention is fully upon him, the way she has of focusing upon anyone with whom she converses completely. But when she speaks it is again with joy, "<Sindarin> Ai, the Lady here? And Lord Celeborn? I hardly dared to hope when I asked! I am fortunate to have found my way here into such company!" She halts in her rather headlong delight. "<Sindarin> But then, how fare you, sir? And your dear ones? Is all well with you and with the Wood?"
Watching Lisiranya's score pass his at long last, Rush sighs in apparent resignation, and he smiles once more to the elleth. A bow of his head could be a sign of defeat, or perhaps simple acknowledgement and respect; it is unclear. But whatever the case he plucks his final arrow from the bundle, taps it hopefully against the wood of his bow and then sets it onto his bowstring. Taking a deep breath he then shakily takes aim a last time and after an uncertain pause he lets fly.
Lominhur releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Lominhur has taken 4/4 turns.
The attendants change out the targets and put in fresh ones and the judges walk down to see the placement. Within moments, they walk back and give the scores to the lead judge. Then the attendants give the all clear and the lead judge nods.
The judge calls, "Hal remains in the lead with ninety and the Green Lady is in second with seventy. Gilaearon of the Valley has volunteered to go next, who will pair with him?"
Reluctantly Kylin stands and sighs "If it would be accepted by the judges, I would like to give it a try.
"Ninety-five!" calls out Barafinnel in correction, laughing softly and bowing his head. "Must give the good Captain all his credit, after all!"
Lisiranya's head lolls downwards, forming a solemn nod to Rush before stepping from the line. Her gaze drifting over the crowd as she begins to weave through it as debation flares within her mind. It has been a while since leaving Ennedlorion's side, and soon should she return to him.
"That is quite a wonder!" Halamoth proclaims. "I know seldom few that remember mighty Gondolin, and even greater few who would know of its precious trees." Halamoth claps when the bout is finished, then says, "This is quite entertaining. But, tell me, who retreived the seed?" He turns to Sidhel and awaits an answer.
The lead judge waves to Kylin and waves him forward. "What is your name, sir, that I may announce you?"
Halbarad casts a sidelong glance at Barafinnel, and chuckles softly. "Five points, mellon," he calls, "At that range, I shouldn't argue for five points -- but I thank you for guarding my honor!"
And he watches, then, with eyes ablaze with interest as Kylin takes the line
"Kylin," he tells the judge as he moves forward to take up a place near the lines.
The judge nods to Kylin and Gilaearon, giving them permission to begin. "Kylin will face Gilaearon!"
Sidhel nods a few times. "A wonder it is. Elwiel of Gondolin found some seeds of that very plant in her diary, but she would not remember what those were. When we eventually made one of the seeds to grow it turned out that that plant was the Moon Tear. A thing of great beauty which is supposed to glow under the moon's light."
Gilaearon, after taking a moment to compose himself and giving a nod to the judge and to Kylin, steps to the shooting line. Gracefully, but quickly, the echdir draws a shaft and nocks. The bow and arrow come up and Gilaearon draws the string back to the side of his face. The elf holds for just a moment before releasing his arrow which flies down the field towards the target.
"It was a fair effort," Talbinor says to Lominhur as the next round seems set to begin. His eyes pass up towards the sky. "The day wearies and the shadows lengthen, and I suspect we have seen the best of the evening's scoring already." His grey gaze passes back down to Lominhur, stepping out of the way so Kylin can make his challenge if he is accepted.
"Our scores combined would have us in second," Talbinor adds to Lominhur with a small, smart-alecky smirk. "A testament both to mediocrity and to excellence, as far as it goes. But your arrows flew truer than you gave yourself credit for."
Shrugging to himself, Lominhur turns and offers a bow of mock ceremony to those gatheres and smiling once again he returns to the side of his fellow Dunedain. "Now," he breathes, "let us see what our friend Kylin can do..."
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 5
Gilaearon has taken 1/4 turns.
"Such skill should be remembered, Hal," answers Barafinnel with a wide grin in response to the tall Dunadan. "Inded, only five away from a perfect score rather than ten. I await the final test to see how you fair, truly, mellon! It should be a sight."
Lominhur grins also to Talbinor and nods. "Aye. We should insist that our efforts are counted together."
The man takes one of the bows that is offered. Kylin bends the wood and just as the string nears the top, the bow springs from his hand and dances away upon the snow. He shrugs a shoulder and quickly steps over to retrieve the wayward weapon. At last it is strung and he takes up an arrow. The bow is pulled back, he aims and the shaft is let to fly.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Kylin has taken 1/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> The Lord remains at home," replies Haldir cautiously, again breaking gaze upon Eledurima, though this time it is to allow a wary glance to survey surroundings -- almost as if the guard were looking for some hidden foe. Subject of conversation changes, and quickly, at that:
"<Sindarin> I fare well; as well as one can in this world. I would hope the same -- or better -- of you, Lady?"
"With moving targets? A sight worthy to blind the worst of us," replies Halbarad to Barafinnel's call, a light smile dancing in his voice.
Another chuckle then -- this more to himself, it seems, than others -- and he tilts his head to Lominhur.
"It was not too poorly done, brother, but...yes. Let us see."
And with the last, his eyes narrow on Kylin. And see, he does.
"Indeed," Halamoth replies. He strokes his chin softly, then nods several times. "I would like to see this plant, even in its infancy, though I hope with a great hope that it will grow strong and tall so that all might look upon it, even from afar, in awe." He grows silent, then asks, "Where is this Moon Tear?"
When Kylin loses his grip on his bow, Talbinor reflexively ducks, but then a solid shot flies into the target and the Ranger lifts his brow slightly, grunting and getting up into a standing position. "<Sindarin> A good shot, for one who showed such inexperience. Beginner's luck, you think?" he asks, switching out of the Westron, glancing between his three fellow Rangers thoughtfully.
Gilaearon watches Kylin's arrow and nods in approval at the excellent shot. Again with grace and poise, Gilaearon quickly repeats his tasks. The arrow is nocked on the strong. The bow is brought up and the string and arrow are pulled back. The elf holds steady for just a moment, aiming at the distant target, before releasing and watching the arrow fly away down field.
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Gilaearon has taken 2/4 turns.
"I hit the target...that is a first for me," Kylin says as another arrow is taken in hand. It is notched and held in place with the bow hand while the other pulls his hair from his face "Perhaps this would help, or hinder, who is to say?" He nods to his opponent "A fine shot that was. I do hope that I shall not be beaten to badly."
The bow is pulled back, and he aims down the shaft, raising it slightly to account for the distance and 'twang' - it is on it's way.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Kylin has taken 2/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> Miraculous," observes Rush to his fellow Rangers, smiling all the while. "<Sindarin> Of course, firsts do seem to crop up often when we least expect them. I think he is hiding his true skill, though in truth I myself was more fortunate than I expected."
"It sits still in the greenhouse," explains Sidhel to the Lindondhrim. "But Dinaloss suggested we provide the plant a cooler spot than this. Let us hope that cold, or the lack of it, was what made the plant ill," says he. Briefly he glances at the two archers. "It seems, that this is the tournament of the Secondborn," he muses. "First the sword duelling and now archery..."
"<Sindarin> ...and a second," Halbarad points out softly, his lips pressing in a grim line.
A hint of distress cosses the echdir's face as he watches Kylin's second arrow score the middle ring. Hoping for a better result, Gilaearon shoots this time a little slower. With steady easy, the elf takes his arrow, nocks it and brings the weapon. The string and arrow are drawn back and Gilaearon aims carefully at the center of the target for a few moments. The next moment, the arrow is flying away.
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow hits the target.
Outer ring. A fair shot!
5 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 20
Gilaearon has taken 3/4 turns.
Eledurima , upon hearing the judge from across the field mention her, turns only her ear to him for a moment not her eyes. Her eyes and her attention is for the tall male. Her face falls a little bit at his amendation to her impression. "<Sindarin> Ah, and so you did not mention him. It was my hope for him that spoke." Her eyes register mutably and mutedly to every word the marchwarden speaks, registering his caution, his watchfulness, his interest, at last. "<Sindarin> Ah, of me. There is not a very great deal, as ever. I move through the world doing as I can. My Elhinnon are company for me." There is only a hint of wistfulness in her expression.
Eledurima adds with a soft smile. "<Sindarin> I am well as well can be."
Kylin scratches at his chin "Another good shot, sir." He says to Gilaeron before he takes the third arrow of his "I just hope to hit again, then I would count myself fortunate."
The bow is bent, and again he aims for just the briefest of moments and once again the arrow is heading to the target.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the middle of the the Target.
Inner ring. A good shot!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 40
Kylin has taken 3/4 turns.
Talbinor nods at Lominhur and Halbarad, his own mouth closing into a thoughtful expression as he watches the two competitors wage a war of archery. "The day advances, and accuracy is marred for it, but I see great skill in how the bows are fired," he says conversationally, glancing around the crowd as a whole. "If it were high noon, we might be seeing great scores, but alas for those who waited. Poor luck." He folds his hands together, resting them in front of his chest as he watches.
"<Sindarin> Twice to the inner and once to the middle," Talbinor says to his fellows as more arrows fly in front of them. "<Sindarin> I do not pretend to be a great archer, but I at least can hold a bow and he has done in three more than I did in four." His gaze flickers between the Rangers, once more. "<Sindarin> It may not -mean- anything, naturally! But it is curious."
"I will visit it this night, should the moon show her face, then," Halamoth replies. He adjusts his shoulders, than says, "The Captain's marksmanship is a wonder, but few of his men fair as well. Although, had I not as many years of practice, they would have all surely beaten sixty-five or seventy." He rubs his chin, then gestures towards Kylin. "Who is that Man who shoots yonder? A Breelander?"
Gilaearon nods to Kylin's compliment with amusement. "<Sindarin> Thank you sir for your exaggeration."
Gilaearon wastes no time with his last shot. The elf quickly nocks his arrow, brings the bow up, draws back, and lets fly after the slightest pause.
Gilaearon releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Gilaearon has taken 4/4 turns.
Only a smile is given to the Firstborn as he speaks. There is no indication on the man to show if he understood or not. When the arrow hits he nods "Fine, fine shot."
Kylin steps forward, another arrow is notched and this time little to no time is taken to aim and the bolt is let to fly. His own eyes follow the path as the bow is lowered.
Kylin releases an arrow ...
The arrow strikes the target.
Middle Ring. A good shot!
10 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Kylin has taken 4/4 turns.
"<Sindarin> ... ...?" Sidhel looks at Kylin, then bends his head close to Halamoth. "<Sindarin> He is ... ... ... ... ... White, ... few ... ... ... here. I ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ..., ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... what we ... of .... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... invited him ... ... ... ... ..., when we ... ... ... ... ..., ... before ... ... have run ... ... ... of ... ...."
Gilaearon graciously turns to his opponent on the line and bows deeply in submission. "<Sindarin> A fine showing sir. I applaud your victory and I wish you good luck in the contest."
As the targets are changed and then measured, the lead judge rises and claps for those who have participated thus far. With new targets in place and the scores relayed, he calls out, "The standings at the top remain the same. Hal remains at ninety-five and the Green Lady at seventy. Are there any others who will take part?" He looks around patiently.
"<Sindarin> A fine lot, we both are," laughs Haldir, the mirth meandering briskly about words. There is a melancholy to the jest, however. "<Sindarin> One would imagine that, after so long, we would not rely upon the world for well-being."
"<Sindarin> But are they? I cannot imagine one with such a reputation for mischief as yourself would be content with a troop of guardsmen." A brief pause, glance to the judge, and he says: "<Sindarin> But, ah, they call for you, perhaps."
Then, when the arrow hits Kylin laughs and turns. With a bow to Gliaeron "My thanks good Sir for allowing me to shoot with you." Then to the judges he bows, deeply "My thanks to you for giving me the chance to take part in the competition."
"<Sindarin> ...and twice to the middle," adds Halbarad to Talbinor's count, a curious look cast to Kylin -- but his features resume their mild manner as the lead judge calls out his name -- and as Kylin finishes his turn with the bow.
He stands then, bow in two hands, and looks for any other who might join.
Halamoth says, in a deep tone that echoes like the waves upon the sea, "<Sindarin> Ahh. I see he is a Lesser Man. I shall say no more of this." The Sinda draws quiet and his mood dims until his countenance is dark and solemn. Then, in the common tongue, he says, 'Let us see if the last of the competition draws near.'
He makes his way back to his seat, not before handing off the bow to one of the Firstborn that is assisting in the competition. As he nears where he sat he looks to the Rangers "Talk about luck, I think the wind died each time before I shot and came up when the other did."
Looking around and seeing no one rising to the challenge, the judge calls out, "Let the Green Lady and Hal of the Wild stand forth for the final round!" He looks into the crowd to see where they stand.
"The wind is tricky in the Valley," confirms Halbarad at Kylin's suggestion, but there is no smile in his eyes or in his voice -- and none at all upon his lips.
He steps forward then, at the judge's call, silent.
"Well loosed," says Barafinnel softly from where he sits. As the finale is called however he takes immediate interest, eyes widening and rear shifting forward on his seat. Deep grey gaze flickers to Halbarad in expectance, then he looks down to the targets.
"But where were such fortunate elements when Rush or I were shooting?" Talbinor asks Kylin with a small smile. "Or, for that matter, when the Captain took his last. I suspect the world decided it had enough of Ranger prowess by that time." As the judge calls forward the two finalists he moves out of the way, so the large Ranger can make his escape to the shooting area.
"Between the Constant and yourself, Captain, let us give these people something to tell their children about," Talbinor adds, what passes for encouragement from him, crossing his arms over his chest and watching the events unfold.
Eledurima's small head cants to one side at the Haldir's words as she sighs softly. "<Sindarin> Well...." Her thoughts are visibly moving toward finding expression in words when the prospect of having to return to the center of the field again and so she only nods. She half turns and then stops and says softly, "<Sindarin> I miss those days...and Glynnis and the long talks and the climbing of trees and playing in mudpuddles...and my father. But, thou knowst...The light fades and song holds our place from darkness as the stars hold the night." The warmth in her eyes is sweet as she gifts the marchwarden a final look. "<Sindarin> We both do our part.... Come and sing with us before you leave. We are just on the other side of the river.... Until then, Varda's blessing on you, sir.." And with that she turns and makes her way to the center again...her ancient yew bow in her small hand...
"A fine effort," smiles Rush to Kylin, by way of congratulation. "You tied with me. If I didn't know betterm while I am hardly excellent with the thing, I would assume you had shot before. A day for beginners to shine, it would appear." He looks then to Halbarad and Talbinor; falling silent as he await the final tasks.
Calling out as the two contestants are now present, the judge begins, "The final round begins. The clay objects will be flung into the air one by one. The Green Lady and Hal will each take turns shooting at the objects. The first to hit four will be declared the winner. Let us begin!"
A shrug of his shoulders is Kylin's response to the elements from Talbinor "Perhaps, perhaps. I do not know the tricks of the wind in the valley, perhaps if I had a better score could have been had." He knocks off a clump of snow from his boot with the other and then readies to watch the final contestants.
When Rush speaks he turns "A few times at the wayward rabbit or squirrel, perhaps," and he finishes off with a smile.
Longbow in hand, Halbarad draws an arrow from his quiver, but waits before he puts it to the string.
"My lady," he says solemnly, bending his shoulders in a slight bow. "Will you do the honor?" He motions toward the targets yet to be flung.
Eledurima 's mild eyes narrow a little bit as the man speaks to her and the edges of her small mouth turn slightly upward. She nods. "If you wish..." Then she hesitates. "A wager, sir?" She waits...
"Then you may have just found yourself a fair hobby, if that was your first real attempt," Talbinor says to Kylin, a little laugh not quite leaving his lips but the mirth it represents obvious. "You gave some experienced shooters a good run, and archery is not the most intuitive of sports."
"<Sindarin> I just may," replies Haldir to the departing Green Lady, then lapsing into silence. Watchful gaze rests upon the line and competition, with only the briefest of glances carrying it to the gathering of humans.
"I think it was mostly luck, sir," Kylin says pleasantly to the Ranger "Most times I miss what I am shooting at."
"If you wish," acquiesces the Captain -- but he does not offer the wager, only waits. If the lady will suggest one, it seems, he will accept.
Eledurima continues to gaze at the man, her eyes swirled turquoise. "I am not favored. You are the more practiced by the score. Should I take the prize, will you give me that you will take no living game for one of your years?"
Maglind peers over the crowd, turning to glance backwards at the marchwarden. "<Sindarin> What are they saying?"
When Kylin hears the wager offered "I am thinking that perhaps I had the better of the wagers. Berries and roots are welcomed, but to eat just that upon the road," he muses with a shake of his head, not finishing his thought.
"He could always find prepared rations from Imladris," chuckles Barafinnel from nearby, keen elven ears picking up the words imparted by Kylin. This said he returns his gaze to the two participants, head canted to one side curiously.
Sidhel rests his arms on his longbow as he watches the lady and the captain set the terms of their wager. "I shall tell this to Ingildur," he speaks under his breath with great mirth.
"<Sindarin> I am not certain," replies Haldir with brows furrowed. "<Sindarin> It seems, if the lady Eledurima wins, Hal of the Wild will be forced to not kill any animal for one of the Secondborn's years."
"Aye," laughs Lominhur, agreeing it seems with Kylin. "But, one thing I am beginning to understand, if indeed I have the right of it at all, is that many of these different elves have many different likes and dislikes. It would seem that the Lady has an attachment to the beasts of the land. As to your oath," he chuckles, "would you complain were Hal to join us? He did seem interested in hearing your tale."
A moment's silence weighs between these two, and Halbarad's silvered gaze does not part from the lady's emerald. And then--
"Neither by bow nor knife," he says, and all in his manner is solemn, "Sword nor hand, I swear it -- if you take the prize."
"And if it is mine?" His quiet words continue, "The simple honor of a tale."
Nauthcel, having remained silent for some time, upon hearing the wager, shakes his head and speaks softly, "Harder would the life be of the Captain if he were to lose." Once again, the Constant falls silent, interest revealed on his visage as he awaits the beginning of the final round.
Eledurima's laughter is soft and her eyes steady. There is both mischief and mirth in her eyes. "Or a song. Done. And my thanks." She steps to the line with a solemn nod, solemn except for the twinkling eyes...
Kylin laughs and pats his belly "I fear that I could not take such with me upon the road. Already the weight has stuck to me from the food here. Never mind that then the longing that would come to me with every taste would drive me back to this wonderful valley," he replies to Barafinnel.
To Rush "Aye, it does seem that way to me as well," then after a moment of pondering "I would like it much if the Captain would see his way to join us."
Eledurima takes a deep breath and then turns to the one who is to release the clay "pigeon" her long yew bow at her side. "Ready then." Her concentration returns.
"<Sindarin> That is the terms of the wager," muses Haldir, amusement flowing in the hushed tones.
"Or a song," agrees the Captain -- and he motions, then, with his bowless hand. It is time to begin.
As the target is released the vegan Laihiril quickly and and smoothly nocks the arrow and fires with the speed of which the quendi are able.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 15
Eledurima has taken 1/4 turns.
The Lady sees three discs destroyed, and with all intent and focus -- and yet, still, with loose and easy motion -- Halbarad nocks one arrow to his bow with others ready yet...
Halbarad takes his turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Halbarad destroys five clay discs!
Unbelievable!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 25
Halbarad has taken 1/4 turns.
'I've never seen a nun look that horrible before.' and the doctor says 'I told her she was pregnant.' The patient asks 'And is she?' and the doctor says 'No, but it sure cured her hiccups.'"
Eledurima's lips tighten only a small measure and then she smiles again toward the one who is coordinating the targets. She is ready.
The targets are released and the lady again smoothly nocks and fires without a hesitation or hitch.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 30
Eledurima has taken 2/4 turns.
Another three are fallen, the bits of which scatter over the training field afar. And as his opponent shoots, Halbarad watches not the arrows or the discs, but the Lady -- and there is a curiousness in his eyes.
Silent, still, and ever-solemn, Halbarad prepares another arrow.
And when the discs are loosed, the arrows folllow suit.
Halbarad takes his turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Halbarad destroys five clay discs!
Unbelievable!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 50
Halbarad has taken 2/4 turns.
The Green-elves present cheer for their lady as it is her turn again. As she prepares to shoot, they fall silent, their hands joined as they wait...
Kylin only shakes his head as disk after disk are broken "Now that is shooting, by each."
"Good gracious," Talbinor mumbles as Halbarad picks up where he left off, destroying the discs like it seems he shall destroy the woodland creatures of Eriador after he wins this contest. "He really is a tremendous shot." He actually sounds rather surprised by this, as if realising for the first time something which he's known most of his life.
As the Laiquendi get their cheering section going, Talbinor turns to Lominhur, a rather thoughtful expression on his face. "I do hope our Captain appreciates the more solemn, quiet support of the Rangers," he muses aloud.
"I merely hope he chooses not to venture away from us again," replies Rush to Talbinor. "I would fear no troll nor band or orcs should his bow be guarding me..."
Sidhel raises his brows at such shooting and he shakes his head again. "<Sindarin> As if Beleg Strongbow's spirit had returned in this form..." He moves over to where the Marchwarden of Lorien and Maglind stand. "<Sindarin> I daresay the Lady Eledurima shoots like the best Sindarin archers. I am surprised to such archery from the Lady of the Laiquendi."
Eledurima's eyes flicker softly and she sighs as she again steps to the line, glancing down as she takes a breath through her nose and lets it go. She looks up and smiles inscrutably, smiles at the target master and nods, waiting.
When the targets are released, she fires again as smoothly as before, calm.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 45
Eledurima has taken 3/4 turns.
Their solemn, quiet Captain must appreciate their solemn, quiet support -- for he mimics them in it, and in solemn quietude readies his third set of arrows.
Again, the discs are loosed -- and the cry of them is not unlike the cry of birds on the horizon.
And then--
--Twang.
Halbarad takes his turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Halbarad destroys five clay discs!
Unbelievable!
25 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 75
Halbarad has taken 3/4 turns.
"Just one disk out of all my shots and I would be thrilled. Yet she," Kylin motions with his chin "gets three each turn. And your Captain...5 each turn. I am witnessing something I had never thought I would see. I do not think, should I retell this story that any would believe me."
"Alas, ai," murmurs Barafinnel, shaking his head with a vague hint of amusement as he watches the contest in something akin to awe. "Were the wager to have won out, then indeed the poor animals would have been spared their lives."
"In that, Rush, we heartily agree," Talbinor answers the Ranger just as Halbarad's bow again sings, and chunks of five clay discs again fall to the ground. "If only the hide of a troll were as easy to destroy as clay. But if my math is correct, our Captain has taken the day regardless of the fourth shots." Talbinor turns his head over towards Kylin, lifting his eyebrow. "If you tell the story to a Ranger, you will be believed, at least," he says, simply.
With a smile "Perhaps if said Rangers were to wear something that would tell me that they are one, I would have someone to back up my tale?" Kylin says with a wink to Talbinor before turning back to the shooters.
"<Sindarin> She was trained by some of the best," replies Haldir to Sidhel, offering a side-long glance to the Herald during a pause in the shooting, "<Sindarin> but it may not prove enough."
Grey gaze tracks clay discs, even as they fall to the ground. A whispered comment, more to the speaker than those about: "<Sindarin> Perhaps later I will try my hand at this."
All this talk of Halbarad going on a rampage once the contest is concluded, the Green-elves hold hands now not only in support of their lady, but also they chant softly a lament for the poor creatures of the earth.
"Though I would discourage telling such a tale too openly for reasons that may be beyond your wisdom," Nauthcel cautions though his gaze remains on the competition. His words appear to go without explanation yet in the eyes of the Man, a faint sense of worry glows.
Eledurima sighs softly, "Well, twas worth the assay." She raises her chin for her last shot <I surmise>. She smiles again and steps to the line, signally the targetmaster and drawing the yew bow quickly smoothly with the full grace of the quendi, the Laiquendi, and fires again.
Eledurima takes her turn. Five clay discs are fired into the air...
Eledurima destroys three clay discs.
Great shooting!
15 pts earned this turn.
Total Score: 60
Eledurima has taken 4/4 turns.
Despite their mood, the Green-elves cheer, with calls of hope and love for Eledurima!
Sidhel says in Sindarin, "I would count my trainers in archery among the best as well, but their and mine skills pale before the shooting of those two," says Sidhel to Haldir. "Truly, this is amazing. I would gladly let their masters train me, or even ask Hal or the Hiril for instructions."
"If this is alas for the woodland creatures," chuckles Lominhur, "then it is huzzah for us, for I wager that any song sung of this lady and her folk would be charming and wondrous indeed. I do hope they do not actually expect Hal to go and hunt, just to spite them..."
The remains of another three discs tumble to the earth, but--
--Halbarad lowers his bow also, and his quiver goes untouched. The game is done.
"My lady," says he, silver eyes aglimmer with the fading afternoon sunlight as he offers a reserved bow. "It seems the winds have played me fairer, but the honor of this competition has been a deep one. Will you allow me still to to take that oath, in gratitude? Although--"
His solemnity breaks the briefest moment; a smile capers in his eyes. "I would still have my song."
Halbarad's offer in victory completely fails to surprise Talbinor, as he just wears a small smile, which is all the answer to the Laiquendi's worry-about-the-poor-animals that he feels the need to give. "I suspect, Rush, that we shall spend many nights training with the bow so we can shoot the Captain his supper," he says thoughtfully, but with a grin.
Watching the two, Kylin sits back "Not only a good shot, but honorable as well. A fine and just offer."
"<Sindarin> As Herald," wonders Haldir, seemingly ignoring the other comments of the Historian, "<Sindarin> Sidhel, would you have the authority or ability to allow me to try these ... clay discs? I yearn for a test, or practice, that is not simply a stationary target."
The marchwarden yet watches the two on the line, interest evident in glance.
Eledurima stands as a still white point, white and shadow, and regards Halbarad for a moment, her small and graceful head a cant, a birdlike pose. Without unveiling her expression, she nods once, slow, composed. But her response is immediate. "Sir, I will allow it. And more. I will thank you for it." She adds, "And the song is yours by rights, no matter what you choose." Her lips again sneak up into a msichievous smile. "And I think that I can promise you that what it will say will be much changed by your generosity. It was well shot and..." she adds, "Afterwards graciously done."
With Halbarad and Eledurima sharing in the spoils, the judges smile and slowly disperse and the attendants go about the business of cleaning up. The archery contest is concluded.
The words from Eledurima ring true to him causing Kylin to stand from his chair. He claps his hands "Well done to the two Champions," he says.
"Only by dint of a gracious partner in the game."
Halbarad's reply is swift and gracious, and solemn too -- and with that same solemnity he turns to the assembled, to the audience, to the contestants.
"Let it be known," his rich baritone calls out, "That Hal of the Wilds shall from this day for the space of a year not take any living game -- so on my oath, I swear it!"
Sidhel says in Sindarin, "It would be delighted to do so, Maethyr," replies the herald. "The more since I am somewhat indebted to you." He smiles faintly at this. "Would you prefer to try it right now, or shall I arrange a quiet session only for you?"
Eledurima lowers her eyes for a moment in ....could it be?...shyness? And then they come up again gracefully. "My thanks. Indeed."
"<Sindarin> Nay, not now: For I would not be seen doing worse than the competitors -- or besting them," replies Haldir, jest and solemnity a perfect match in voice: a contradiction, and yet not. "<Sindarin> Indebted? Nay. It seems I was in the wrong in our discussion."
"A shame he didn't take his last," Talbinor muses to the Men about him, his hands unfolding to rest non-chalantly at his side. "I would have enjoyed seeing if he could pick up the perfect mark this time." He idly kicks away some snow that had drifted onto his boot, non-chalantly, and walks off to the side.
"No point in waiting around, I guess," Talbinor says, adjusting the bow in his back and going to make his escape, heading off to the snowny wheat fields to the south.
"Nonetheless he certainly earned the win," chuckles Barafinnel, speaking to himself it would seem as he looks on, head canted softly.
Eledurima gathers her arrows and with a last warm glance thrown to the marchwarden of Lorien, she departs.
Sidhel smiles the more now. "<Sindarin> That is well then. I would like to invite you to share a bottle of Dorwinion wine with me and my friend Duinlas. He is a great singer and an even greater friend of good wine, mind you. And an archer as well, so this should make for a merry company. Would you like that?"
"<Sindarin> That would be most enjoyable," remarks Haldir, turning to the Herald as contestants leave. "<Sindarin> Dorwinion wine? I tried Imladhrim wine some days ago, and it compared not to that of Dinlom. Perhaps this will prove better."
"<Sindarin> Surely you tried a bad vintage that day," replies Sidhel. "<Sindarin> The wines of Imladris are remarkable. Speaking of wines from Dinlom, there is one winemaker Giliath who hails from Lothlorien and now lives in our valley. I shall ask him about the wines from Dinlom."
"<Sindarin> Giliath? The former Minister?" Surprise is writ freely upon the face of the Galadhrim marchwarden, and it is readily evident in voice. The traces of jest are evident, as well, and Haldir shakes his head: "<Sindarin> I cannot say. He is of Raavindonserke; be warned: his opinion may be biased."
"<Sindarin> He was Minister of the Court?" Surprise is written on Sidhel's fair face. "<Sindarin> That I did not know. Why, that is most interesting. Was he succeeded by Niinaeth or does his service to the Lady lie even further in the past?" Curiously, the herald Sidhel has now turned into the seeker Sidhel.
As Giliath arrives suddenly, Lominhur finally rejoins the various conversations that have sprung up. His eyes catch sight of the vintner's entrance and a smile graces the Ranger's lips. "Against all expectations," he answers, "it was one of my ilk."
At the edge of the field, a cloaked figure is separated from the varicolored backdrop. Perhaps she is just arrived, or perhaps she has been there all along. But, coming forward, Galadriel lowers her hood and her countenance is glad for the sun to shine upon it.
Haldir nods in acknowledgement and affirmation, drumming fingers idly upon the longbow in hand. "<Sindarin> Niinaeth was the following, and present, Minister. I cannot speak much else concerning him," caveats the marchwarden, keen glance straying about the area.
"<Sindarin> Though he may, himself, satisfy any inquiry, perhaps," comments he, gesturing to the newly-arrived Giliath.
