Special Event: The Greenleaf Festival - 01 June 2021

[Alethan]

Bandobras "Bandy" Sandybanks
10:00 AM, June 1
Archery Contest

Bandy steps up to the firing mark for his target, selecting his favourite arrow with the black feather fletching for his first shot. In one steady motion, he nocks the arrow, pulls back to his ear, lines up his shot, and releases. The arrow flies true, striking dead center in the bull's eye! He allows a quick smile to turn up the corners of his mouth as he draws his second arrow.

The second arrow doesn't fly quite as true as the first. As it leaves the bow string, he can immediately tell one of the veins of the fletching has been buggered up, so it generates a slight wobble as it speeds through the air. It hits the target solidly, but misses the inner and outer rings. He nods in agreement at some unspoken thought and calms himself for his final shot...

The third arrow he selects is deemed better after he checks the fletching and sites down the arrow to make sure it is true. Once again, he sets arrow to string and pulls back in a smooth motion, releasing when the string kisses his cheek and his target is sighted in. The third arrow flies straight as well, hitting the outer ring of the target with a resounding thud.

He steps back from the firing mark, unstrings his bow, and wipes his brow with his sleeve, knowing he has set a good bar for the others.

Archery Contest 1 [1d20+2] = 17+2 = 19 2 [1d20+2] = 11+2 = 13 3 [1d20+2] = 14+2 = 16
1 = 19, AC0 = 4pts
2 = 13, AC6 = 1pt
3 = 16, AC3 = 2pts
Total: 7pts

Not bad for the short guy...

[onlyme]

Halfpint
nervously fires the first of her arrows. After seeing one hit the mark and hers no where near it, she shakes even harder with the 2nd, and then the 3rd as she knows her chance at winning are nil.

Shortbow [1d20+3] = 5+3 = 8; [1d6+1] = 3+1 = 4
Shortbow [1d20+3] = 2+3 = 5; [1d6+1] = 6+1 = 7
Shortbow [1d20+3] = 4+3 = 7; [1d6+1] = 4+1 = 5

[Zhym]

"Hey, that's not bad," Fingers tells Bandy. "But watch this!" He kisses Silmaril on the bow tip and then, in one smooth motion, nocks an arrow and lets it fly—about two feet above the target.

"Uh—just finding the range!" he says with a nervous laugh.

He takes more care with his next shot. He draws, looks down the arrow's shaft to his target, breathes, and releases. The arrow lands with a satisfying 'thunk' in the center of the bullseye.

His third arrow, as carefully aimed, hits just to its left. Two bullseyes.

"Whoa," he says, as surprised as anyone, before regaining his swagger. "I mean, 'That's how it's done!'"

Archery contest: [1d20+3] = 3+3 = 6 [1d20+3] = 20+3 = 23 [1d20+3] = 18+3 = 21

8 Points for Fingers.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare, Flame of The North

Resplendent in gleaming new chainmail, tightened in baroque fashion to highlight her assets (with a little extra cut for the derriere), Foxy rides into the tourney. She parades around the ring on Bluebelle, holding a lance laced with colourful pennants. She dismounts, ruffling the head of a young maiden, giving her the lance to hold."Here take this silver piece, you can be my standard bearer, a gold if I win."

Striding to the hockey ( firing line) she mouths whispering to Albrecht as she passes by, "Pogue Mahone.", swinging her hair loose in wavy trusses from hair ties to blow unkempt and free in the wind.

Short bow in hand, she withdraws an engraved shaft and saluting the crowd fires...

Foxy: Shortbow normal range: [1d20+2] = 20+2 = 22 arrow damage: [1d6] = 2

...the arrow hitting not just the bullseye but right up the bulls arse.

Foxy takes a goblin arrow, one of few from the rescue mission...

Foxy: Shortbow normal range: [1d20+2] = 6+2 = 8 arrow damage: [1d6] = 4

Too much arrogance and feistyness betraying her shot. Maybe a little more Eruannas' grace and humble confession is in order.

Foxy draws a last arrow, this time choosing to fire left handed...

Foxy: Shortbow normal range: [1d20+2] = 19+2 = 21 arrow damage: [1d6] = 2...it flies true and scrapes along the shaft of the first to settle within the centre mark.

Foxy gives herself a big sigh of relief, looks like it will go to another round. Curtseying neatly to the crowd and elders she withdraws to grab a swig from a bottle of wine and cheer on the next participant.

[Marullus]

Nice job! Holding for Baxtaw.

[Rusty Tincanne]

Don't forget about Captain Bremen!

The ruggedly handsome form of Captain Bremen walks to the line with measured steps and his heavy crossbow over his shoulder. He looks blankly at the audacious redhead a moment, then nods in the direction of Sir Albrecht and Wilhelm, offering them the respect they deserve. In one motion he swings the tip to the ground, slides his foot in the stirrup and draws the string back and then hoists it back to his shoulder. He aims just long enough for people to wonder if he could have knocked a bolt, but the instant "THWACK" answers their unasked question.

And the Flame of the North's first arrow is shattered, his heavy quarrel in its place.

He looks in her direction again, this time with a wry smirk. And another nod at the sage and captain before repeating the process. But with the second attempt he deliberately points at the ground in front of him and soon the quarrel has sunk into the earth. Isn't that how you said it was done, Lassie? He pauses to enjoy the effect of his jest.

The third shot is flies as it should. His second quarrel in the center ring. Without another word, he shoulders his crossbow and walks away from the line, please with his 8 points.


Heavy Crossbow 1 [1d20+2] = 20+2 = 22, 2 [1d20+2] = 4+2 = 6, 3 [1d20+2] = 17+2 = 19

[Zhym]

"Pfui. Any ol' klutz can shoot a crossbow," scoffs Fingers. "Bows are elegant."

Three two-bullseye rounds! Amazing!

[Dram]

Baxtaw stops up to the target and fires. I will show you guys how Elves shoot.


Shot #1
MW Bow[1d20+2] = 4+2 = 6 Dam[1d8+2] = 5+2 = 7

Shot#2
MW Bow[1d20+2] = 3+2 = 5 Dam[1d8+2] = 4+2 = 6

Shot #3
MW Bow[1d20+2] = 6+2 = 8 Dam[1d8+2] = 1+2 = 3

Apparently elves dont shoot so well.

[Rusty Tincanne]

Captain Bremen looks disdainfully at Fingers, responding loudly for anyone to hear. Lissen up, kid. I don't know what yer wet-nurse told you, but dead is dead. So don't go thinking an orc you kill is more elegant than an orc I kill. But if it makes you feel any better, I'll use your bow next round and show you I can use either tool.

After the crowd has settled a bit and Baxtaw has fired, Captain Bremen whispers to Fingers. Well if elves piss as well as they shoot, remind me not to use the urinal after any of 'em.

Three two-bullseye rounds! Amazing!

Where is that kind of luck when you are facing down an ogre and a bunch of kobolds, right? Or a zombie-troglodyte.

[Zhym]

Fingers laughs at Captain Breman's whispered joke. "You just keep your mitts off Silmaril," he answers for the others to hear, his tone joking. "If all we wanna do is kill the targets, we can just run up and bash 'em with swords. But this is a competition. It's about skill! The bow, now—that's a weapon. Not as clumsy or random as a crossbow. An elegant weapon, for a more civilized age...of killing things."

[Rusty Tincanne]

Bremen laughs at the idea of Fingers doing such a thing. It'd be funny but I don't see the judges or Duke enjoying it enough to make a week in the stockade worth it. Still, there ain't much elegant about a stick and a string. Now look here at how all these gears mesh together. That's elegance.

[Spearmint]

Alcide, River Ranger

The troll hunter exits the tavern, jackbuck leather jacket and beaver skin helm pulled cockeyed over his greying hair. He has a longbow and stands to take aim, an inordinately long time. He feels like a hunt but hunting is a slow patient game, this game is too noisy, too colourful.

At the tavern Rickety Rick, Ma Baker and Spade McManus said cheering or jeering him on.

Alcide Greenleaf tourney. [1d20+1] = 4+1 = 5 [1d20+1] = 5+1 = 6 [1d20+1] = 13+1 = 14

His first arrows go short or long, Alcide rubs his nose conceedng the day ain't his. Still an arrow remaining he targets a small butterfly flitting around the easel. His arrow pins it to the board.

Tipping his hat he returns to the fayre.

[Marullus]

Berylla Frogmorton cheers loudly for Bandy's round, encouraging his success. "He's a cousin, you know," she says proudly as he scores seven points. She commiserates with Half-pint on her case of the nerves, then steps up herself. "It is not just my brothers that have nerve," she says, flipping her tresses back and stringing her bow. "The ladies of Frogmorton have real grit." She fires against the wind, managing two shots in the outer ring in spite of it. Disappointed, she subdues her bravado but continues to gold her chin high to not let it show. She falls back with her fellows as the three hobbits are removed from the competition by the bullseyes that follow. After Baxtaw is eliminated, it is only the humans that advance - an upset of expectations which has the crowd wildly enthusiastic.

Berylla Frogmorton [1d20] = 10 [1d20] = 3 [1d20] = 9

Alcide blusters but seems content with his loss, having identified several ladies smitten by his performance. He retires with them to the tables to watch the rest of the tourney.

Wilhelm shares in the crowd's enthusiasm. "We are graced indeed to have such a fine showing of archers! A three way tie indeed! We shall proceed to another volley!" the targets are moved back, a more treacherous shot with the stiff winds. Fingers, Foxy, and Bremen are invited to shoot again. (Shoot again, -2 penalties)

[Zhym]

Fingers steps up and fires his first arrow just outside the bullseye. The wind catches his other two arrows and they miss the target entirely.

"Hmph," he grumbles.

Archery contest: [1d20+1] = 15+1 = 16 [1d20+1] = 2+1 = 3 [1d20+1] = 6+1 = 7

[Rusty Tincanne]

Captain Bremen pats the youth on the back as he walks to the line. Well... That's elegance for ya.

He toes the line, crossbow over his shoulder again. He repeats the same routine of fluidly dropping the stirrup to the earth, drawing the string, knocking the arrow, aiming and firing, this time without stopping between shots. THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!

Mostly pleased with his results, Captain Bremen nods again to Sir Albrecht and Wilhelm the Sage before walking towards Foxy. Good luck, lass. Don't go lettin' them young ladies down.

Heavy Crossbow [1d20] = 18, [1d20] = 17, [1d20] = 16

I don't have my book with me, but I believe that is 1 bullseye and 2 middle rings. If Stirling hasn't posted by the time i have my book, I'll amend this post.

[Stirling]

Foxy O'Hare

Foxy feels like telling this patronising fellow to ' Pogue her mahone' also but thinks it will be lost on him. She walks up to the line, patient and muttering a prayer to Eruanna under her breath. "A true path for the arrow and the Flame,"...she pictures a mage, robed in red and shadow.

Greenleaf long range target [1d20] = 19...

a true path indeed. The arrow strikes the centre target true. She lifts her bow again, slowly cocking the shaft. Picturing a fat goblin king she released the arrow...

Greenleaf long range target [1d20] = 6...at the same time she imagines the goblins grasping, reaching, biting, fetid infernal creatures.

Foxy wipes her brow, shuts out the noise, hoes to a place of silence. The stalker, the hunter trailing the prey. Patience and strength, to wait, to hold, ...only another bullseye will do...

Greenleaf long range target [1d20] = 18....another bullseye is what she gets.

"Perhaps a little further corporal," she says to Captain Bremen.

[Rusty Tincanne]

He was being patronizing, wasn't he? That was a bit of me bleeding through, wanting to see the gal win after the election went the way it did. Not to bring up politics, sorry.

Anyhow, Bremen had 2 bullseyes and one outer ring for 10 points. If only the die roller would give me results like that in actual combat...

As an aside, I don't quite get your meaning with the "a bit farther" comment.

[Stirling]

Okay, you comment you shot one bull and two outer for 8 points, same as two bullseye's. Hence I understood it was going to another round until you amended your post.

[Marullus]

The crowd's excitement is momentarily dampened as Fingers misses two of his three shots They repair immediately, however, going wild as four of the six remaining shots are AGAIN bull's-eyes! Sir Albrecht confirms the final totals at 18 for Bremen and 16 for Foxy, with only one shot to differentiate them, granting Bremen the win.

"Bremen, you have acquitted yourself well. Though the town is blessed with so many skilled archers -- such a display I've nary seen -- you have nonetheless carried the day. Accept your prize, thus enhanced by the ArchDuke's beneficence, and the grateful adulation of your people," intones Wilhelm officiously. Bremen is handed a small sack of silver coins and then swarmed by the crowd, particularly the woodsmen of the lumbercamp and guardsmen who are most invested in archery.

(Bremen receives one small sack - 200 silver pieces - as a prize purse. He also has Friendly* status among the Lumbercamp and Guardsmen until the next festival. Fingers, Foxy, and Bremen all receive 50xp.)

With such an excellent showing in the first tourney, others gather at the Bulletin Board, checking again for who will participate in the tourney of swords in the next hour.

(Last chance for sign-ups for Swords.)

* which allows recruiting there for retainers or henchmen

[Rusty Tincanne]

Captain Bremen bows low for Wilhelm and Albrecht. I'm honored you two are pleased, sirs. I look forward to using my skills to further grow the town of Gaul. He stows away the silver and walks away with a group of guardsmen, drinking on their dime, as it were.