<font face="garamond" size="2" color="silver">trial</font> -- Training Grounds

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Date Posted: 12:48:21 11/20/04 Sat
Author: Morwen
Subject: trial
In reply to: Lady Guinevere 's message, "Acceptance" on 13:18:51 11/18/04 Thu

Brief nod is given before walking to the weapons. Delicate hands reach for a longbow of suitable size for her, but retract, not approving of its weight. Another after another is selected and rejected until one of suitable size and weight is found along with the arrows. One could never be too careful with ones weapons. She knew she could make the others work, (what good was an assassin that couldn't improvise?), but preferred to show her best side when being tested. Silently, she reached for the string in its cloth, and passing inspection, was attatched with almost unbelievable ease. She was, afterall, an elf.

Walking back to beside the master, the quiver is set on her back, brief notion of any breath of air is taken and with barely glancing at her target, each arrow is loosed with a miniscule hiatus to set the next. The first lands deeply embedded in the farthest left target neatly in the center. The second flies to the middle and the third to the right, all precise and deadly accurate. There was no room for mistakes in such a profession, and she had long been schooled to rid herself of imperfection in her archery.

A slight nod is given to acknowledge the termination of her "trial" as she waits silently for judgement of her new master. Twould be pert to immediately assume the master would approve her handy work. Absentmindly, her fingers tweak the bow and string, musing to herself over an unknown topic.

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Replies:

Satisfied -- Lady Guinevere, 16:20:29 12/04/04 Sat
- round two -- Morwen, 18:41:12 12/09/04 Thu
  - Nod -- Lady Guinevere, 17:31:29 01/21/05 Fri