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Heeeeeeere's Binky!


Date:  February 28, 2002
Place:  Telgar Weyr Lake Shore
Game:  PernMUSH
Copyright Info:  The World of Pern is copyright(c) to Anne McCaffrey 
l967. The Dragonriders of Pern(r) is a registered copyright.

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Kassi's Note:  This event was Paltair's idea, and it was pretty 
spiffy.  The winter Olympics had recently finished RL; much of the
game (and probably the world) was in a sporting mood... so, lo, the
Candidates held their own version of the Olympics, a set of games
open to everyone in the Weyr.  Kassi, being Kassi, can't resist
competing in at least one:  the archery shoot.  And whether she wins
or loses, she's bound to come away from it with a friend for life in
Binky the Bow.

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The Log:

You fly downwards and into the waters of the lake.

<*> Caral heads over from the central bowl.

<*> Quite heedless of the damage she might be doing, Lysseth lands herself 
right amidst a bed of wildflowers; petals dislodged by her backwinging swirl 
about, a few settling eventually against her own dark hide. "Rikki's going 
t'be killing you," Kassi informs her dragon in that resigned voice that 
might suggest she's said this several times before. Certainly Lyss doesn't 
seem to pay the warning any heed. "G'deve, g'deve... can I assume from the 
fact that we didn't have t'be dodging any friendly fire on our way down that 
I'm nay *terribly* late?"

You slide off of Lysseth's neck to land beside her easily. She rumbles, 
cocking her head down at you, and you rub her eyeridges gratefully.


---

A hide attached to a stick has been hammered into the ground next to the 
boulder. There are three sections of writing on the hide. They are:
	ARCHERY, RUNNER RACE and FOOT RACE
A list of rules and course descriptions follow each section heading.

(OOC: To see the rules type "ARCHERY" or "RUNNER RACE" or "FOOT RACE".

If I've forgotten or overlooked something, or you have any questions, please 
page me or send me a +mail and I'll get it taken care as quickly as I can. 
Thanks and please have fun.)

---


Caral watches the dragon land, pausing his steps to do so. The weyrfolk may 
be used to such things, but he takes his time to appreciate draconic beauty 
and grace.

Yashira is seated on one of the rocks, pulling her boots on.

Paltair waves to tall girl and gives a chuckle, "Now, why is it not being a 
surprise to be finding you out here, Yashira." He turns upon seeing the 
green land and smiles to her rider, "Hello, to you, too, ma'am. Are you here 
to participate and try your eye and arm at this sport or just content to sit 
and be watching?"

Riane waves to the greenrider. "Hallo Kassi... don't think so. We just got 
out here, 'swell." Her attention is grabbed as an older tall, thin girl 
looking of Istan origins pokes her. "Hi Caprina.. You're competing?" The 
girl gives a nod, and a grin.

Lysseth must be in a mood to appreciate appreciation, since she composes 
herself neatly into a lounging sort of pose. And earns an elbow to the ribs 
for her trouble. "Cut that out; you look like a lummox. Oh, Faranth's 
sake--" Kassima turns away from her dragon to turn long-suffering green eyes 
on Paltair. "Haven't they told you nay t'ma'am me yet? 'Tis one of those 
Candidate rules, y'know. Don't ma'am Kassima. It used t'be written right 
under 'Don't kill your barracks-mates nay matter how much they snore.' For 
all that I've nay skill with bows, 'twas thinking I might give it a try; see 
if'n 'tis similar t'knife-throwing at all...." She returns Riane's wave, 
waves to Yashira for good measure, and, what the heck, tosses in a third 
amiable wave for Caral too.

Caral smiles and returns the waves with his free hand.

Yashira grimaces. "You've never shot a bow before, Kassi?" She does up the 
last buckle on her boot, rises to her feet.

Paltair just shakes his head, "Everyone here's been telling me not to sir or 
ma'am, them. But, it's just not that easy for me to stop doing what's been 
drilled into me all my 14 Turns, ma'am."

Caral is too busy watching Lysseth pose to pay much mind to the issue of 
honorific forms of address.

Telgar Weyr> T'lean waves

Riane interjects into the conversation, "I welcomed the chance, m'self. Mum 
and dad've always been so particular about that."

Kassima shakes her head in response. "I've always been a knife woman. If'n 
pressed, I can use a spear or m'hands, but other weapons, nay really. Half 
meant t'ask Lirra whether she'd teach me, but I never got around to it. Are 
you all giving it a go too?" Rather hopeful, isn't she? Especially when she 
sees Caprina's nod to the similar question. "So 'twill mayhaps nay be the 
only one who doesn't know what she's doing? Nay including you, Yashira, 
unless your hunting miraculously hasn't included the weapon either." Casting 
her eyes skywards, she retorts wryly to Paltair, "But you *should* stop, 
because if'n you Impress, ma'aming or sirring someone who doesn't wish t'be 
ma'amed or sirred will get you in a fix with the Weyrlingmaster. Best 
t'break the habit now. I'm Kassima, or Kassi, or Wingleader if'n needs 
absolutely must, but I'd prefer the other two."

Telgar Weyr> Riane waves and notes it's not too late for the archery contest 
at the lake.

Paltair turns to Caral, "I'm thinking we could use a nice impartial judge to 
take a look at the target and see who's to be the lucky winner for our 
little event. Woudl you care to be doing the honors and telling us to gets 
to strut around with the title of best archer?" He smiles disarmingly and 
tilts his head a bit in a query.

Telgar Weyr> T'lean nods, though don't think he'll make it...need to take 
care of some stuff rl

Caral blinks, tearing his gaze away from the green dragon to respond to 
Paltair with mild suprise, "What, me?" He chuckles, and shrugs, "I'm 
impartial? I hadn't noticed." He grins, "Sure. I'll judge."

Yashira frowns a little; she catches sight of a young man lounging 
insolently nearby. Her eyes narrow, but the scruffy looking guy just smiles 
and saunters forward to stand next to her. They exchange quiet words.


---

A standard round target, 80cm (31.5 inches) at a distance of 50m (54 yards). 
The target is due east of the shooting location and on level ground. The 
wind will depend on what ever the weather code has picked.

Each player will pose their first shot, then after all have been completed, 
each will pose their second shot. Since the winner is based on posing, it is 
requested that you not pose shooting a perfect bullseye or similar 
exceptional result as that could be viewed as powergaming.

---


Paltair chuckles a bit, "Well, you're not competeing at any rate, so that'd 
be making you at least less partial." He heads over to where bows and 
quivers have been laid out and turns to Kassima, "Wingleader, would it be a 
horrible offense if I were to be asking the ladies to take the first pick?"

Caral laughs with fine good humour and nods to Paltair.

"Any partiality y'may have t'green dragons doesn't count," Kassi looks over 
to tease; Lysseth seconds this with a low, relatively quiet rumble of 
laughter. "Or so 'twould be presuming. Remind me t'avoid ever visiting your 
parents, would you, Riane?" Looking back over towards Paltair, she shakes 
her head, sending her earrings jangling. "'Twould nay be so, nay. 
Particularly if'n you're mistakenly classifying me as a lady too." She's 
being more facetious than not, and grinning, but at least seemed sincere 
about the lack of offense.

Riane winces to Kassi, "I thought they got in trouble if they *didn't* sir 
or ma'am..." In any case, she steps up to one of the bows. "Y'know, I think 
I might just try... for th'fun of it." Capri snickers behind her, but she 
pays no attention. "I've done it once or twice. Sort'f."

Caral grins at Kassi, "Does the green dragon target-shoot?" he asks.

Yashira steps forward, though the scruffy guy claps her on the shoulder. 
"You're one of the men, Yashira! Remember?" Yashira shrugs his hand off. 
"Stuff it."

Paltair laughs openly at Kassima's humor and waits for the others to select, 
"I've not been much at this, but those forests back in Lemos are known to 
attract a number of choice wherries. I'll see if I can recall what few 
lessons the forresters and hunters were teaching."

Kassima waggles a finger at Riane a moment before ambling over to peer over 
the bow selection herself. "'Tis nay quite so. You're supposed t'be ma'aming 
or sirring at first, but if'n they ask you nay t'do so, then you address 'em 
by title instead. 'Tis seen as disrespectful nay t'go with their wishes on 
the matter, methinks. And thank Faranth for it. Hearing 'ma'am' all the time 
makes me feel old." She picks up a bow hesitantly, fingering its string; of 
course, since what she knows about bows would fit in a mustard spoon, she 
ends up shrugging and claiming it regardless of its actual quality. "Only 
Thread," she calls to Caral, "and that with flame rather than arrows!" 
Yashira's scruffy companion gets the eye a moment, but is ultimately 
dismissed. For the moment.

Caral grins at Kassima and nods. "Maybe a pity I can't watch that, but I'm 
glad of it anyway!" he responds cheerfully.

Yashira collects a bow, stalking away from Scruffy, who returns Kassima's 
eye with considerably more vigor and the application of a bit of a leer.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima finds herself picturing Scruffy as a terrier, for some 
reason, and so the leer has an extra level of disturbing-ness. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Paltair laughs, "My grandfather had to pomeranians. Scruffy and 
Stinky (no joke). Those were the two most obnxious dogs I've ever met."

Telgar Weyr> Yashira is transported back to Kids in the Hall. Terriers... 
terriers... terriers...

Telgar Weyr> Tarlo says, "The Pit...of Ultimate Darkness."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Ooh! Ooh! Can I be Hecubus?"

Riane picks up a smallish bow. "Uhh... this one." She's quite unsure of 
herself, plucking the string with a twang. She watches as the older girl 
seems to choose from the others with a little more bluffed knowledge, then 
walks away from the others gathered around the bows with a roll of her eyes 
intended for said girl. She examines hers a little more closely, then nods 
to Kassima, "Ah."

Telgar Weyr> Tarlo says, "Does that make me Nigel?"

Caral watches the women select their bows, displaying mild interest.

Telgar Weyr> Yashira says, "Sir Simon Milligan!"

Scruffy lounges, waiting for the menfolk to get their turn.

And as per usual when leered at, Kassima reddens. Yet give her credit for 
rallying: a moment later, she looks back his way to run her eyes over him in 
an obvious perusal, which, rather than followed by any leering, is followed 
by a lifted brow and an expression of extreme amusement. Then she turns back 
to the testing of her newly-chosen bow. "Every good weapon needs a name," 
she informs it solemnly. "I already have an Emasculator, so that will never 
do; and I could call you 'Groinpiercer,' but that seems so *unsubtle*. How 
about Binky?" It's probably just as well that the bow lacks any ability to 
reply. "We aim for the middle of the target, 'tis so? As with knife-throwing?"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Is Nigel the one with the dark hair and scary 
eyes, Master of the Pit?"

Paltair picks up a bow and a quiver without ever inspecting either the first 
or the contents of the second. He looks over to the greenrider and grins, 
"Well, until I'm seeing a dragon tapping me on the shoulder and whispering 
his or her name in my ear, I'll be sticking with how my Da and Mother raised 
me. I'm not so big that my Da wouldn't take the strap to me for disrespect 
to my betters." He walks away with the instruments in hand, "Aye, ma'am. 
That's the place, I'm told."

Telgar Weyr> Riane laughs! Binky.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "I swear, I have nothing to do with what comes 
out of Kassi's mouth sometimes. ;)"

Caral nods, "Point of order. Aim for the middle." He takes his role of judge 
so seriously. You can tell by that laughter in his eyes.

Telgar Weyr> Tarlo actually tests as Simon on some quiz. Heehee.

Scruffy leers more at the perusal. Amusement? Whatever, she looked. She 
wants him! Clearly. He sniffs, saunters over to the bows, picks one out.

Telgar Weyr> Rikki blinks befuddled-like.

Telgar Weyr> Tarlo says, ". I'm, of course, MC Simon Milligan master of funk 
does a dance and evil. stands up and walks to front of desk Today, we will 
look at the evil you kids can have on a rainy day. Did you know you could 
summon up the powers of darkness in the comfort of your own home? It's true! 
All you need is common household baking soda, white vinegar and goat's blood."

Riane raises a brow at the wingleader but says nothing. Her bow, on the 
otherhand, gets nowhere near as much praise. She's just poking and plucking 
and tossing and having a generally confused session with her new friend the 
bow. "Lessee if I can remember how t'do this.." She brings up the bow to her 
shoulder and pulls back. "That'll do."

Telgar Weyr> Tarlo says, "Well. That didn't come out quite right, but you 
get the point. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Rikki ponders buying a goat ... ;)

Telgar Weyr> Riane says, "Vwoosh. Over my head."

"'Tis also a guideline for Candidates that they respect people's wishes on 
the sirring and ma'aming matter," Kassi points out, still amiable more than 
annoyed. "You can call me Wingleader or greenrider if'n formality's 
important, but 'ma'am' is straight out. Would it help if'n I took off the 
knot?" It's pure coincidence that when she lifts Binky the Bow to test its 
string, its firing-angle is aimed more at Scruffy than the actual target. 
Really. Following Riane's movements out of the corner of her eye, Kassi 
copies them, sticking out her tongue momentarily in concentration. "If'n Da 
saw this," she sighs, "how he'd *laugh*...."

Telgar Weyr> Kassima says, "Kids In the Hall is a show on Comedy Central. 
It's fairly surreal, but has its cute moments, many of which center around 
the Dark Pit where... Simon, is it? The Lord of the Pit and his pit-boy 
Hecubus have a TV show about the glories of evil. ;)"

Telgar Weyr> Riane says, "Neato."

Telgar Weyr> Yashira watched it when she was in grade six. It explains so 
much of my warpedness.

Yashira stands at the ready, shoulders tense. She's given her bow a few 
experimental pulls already. Scruffy's eyeing Kassima again, and deigns to 
speak. "Hey, little lady. Targets are that way." A muscle under Yashira's 
eye twitches.

Telgar Weyr> Tarlo also likes the 'Brucio' bit, and a few of the other 
classics.

Caral looks at Scruffy. The little bronze 'lizard on his shoulder chitters 
dissaproval as Caral says, "Minus ten points for distracting the competitors!"

Telgar Weyr> Tarlo says, "Hecubus? Are you here?" "I am here, Master! Ready 
to serve you, aaaaaaand Satan!"

Telgar Weyr> Paltair is about to say something /really/ dumb, I think. :)

Paltair laughs once more, "Beg pardon, Wingleader, but you'd have to be 
removing more than just the knot for me to have to stop calling you by a 
respectful title. And, speaking honestly, too, Wingleder, I'm more afeared 
of my Da than you. No disrespect, to you, but he's a stern man. Fair, to be 
giving him the credit, but stern."

"I don't think so," Kassi protests, widening her eyes at Scruffy for a 
moment in her best approximation of the 'ditzy, hapless maiden' look. She 
pulls this off about as well as anyone carrying weapons can. "You're 
standing right *here*, nay over *there*." Caral's new rule gets her to turn 
around and face the target quickly, though. "Title's fine. Though I do wish 
you wouldn't... and as t'whether your father or I is more the frightening, 
I've nay met him, so I'm in nay place t'say. I'd suggest he visit sometime 
while I'm proddy and we could duel over the title, but mayhaps 'twouldn't be 
a winning idea?" Again, not terribly serious; her tone is droll, her eyes 
light.

Riane gives a glance at Scruffy for the first time, raising a brow at his 
straightforwardness. She looks as though she's about to say something but 
falls silent. Caprina, on the other hand, gives the boy quite the 
flirtacious smile earning yet another roll of the eyes from Raine. "Okay, we 
start here?"

Paltair chuckles and finally nocks an arrow, testing the bowstring a bit, 
"Well, speaking of winning...."

Scruffy shrugs at Caral, nonchalant, and takes up a position next to 
Yashira. Kassima gets another wide grin - he knows she's speaking, but he's 
not paying attention to the words so much as the expression. Caprina's 
attentions are noticed, and he gives her a frank once-over. Yashira's 
shoulders look terribly tense, one hand white-knuckled into a fist.

"And 'tis always good t'speak of winning." Kassi toes the starting line, 
finding an arrow to set to her bow. A bit clumsily, mind you, but after a 
moment she manages. "I shouldn't be saying this since we're competing," the 
greenrider murmurs aside to Yashira. "But don't let him get t'you. Or 
alternatively, picture him as the target; that oft works wonders for me. Who 
fires first?"

Yashira eyes Kassima sidelong. "Uh-huh," she says, teeth gritted. Scruffy 
looks amused, and gestures wildly at Caral, pointing at Kassima and Yashira 
as they talk. He mouths something - could be 'distraction'.

Caral blinks at the those with drawn bows and says, "Just go left to right 
or something, before your arms tire out. I don't know everybody's name."

Paltair lifts the bow up with his arm level to the ground. Pulling back with 
the already nocked arrow in place, his right hand comes back to touch his 
cheek. He pauses, inhales, exhales and then lets the air fly to its target. 
It hits with a thwack, but even louder is his shout of "Shards!" His right 
hand goes to grip his left forearm, "Thrice cursed string stings a bit if 
it's hitting you in the arm as it goes." He pulls back his hand to reveal a 
red patch near his wrist, but the skin is unbroken.

Caral laughs, "Ow. Poor luck," he says to Paltair.

Flannery heads over from the central bowl.

Flannery ambles on over, readying her rod and reel.

Riane pulls out her bow and an arrow. "I'll go," she offers, and steps up to 
the line. She raises the bow awkwardly, and pulls an arrow back past her 
shoulder. Closing one eye, tongue pressed against cheek in concentration, 
she lets the arrow spin away from her with a sharp 'twang' from her bow. 
Well, at least she's uninjured.

Yashira, still scowling intently, silently nocks an arrow and raises her 
bow. One eye squints nearly shut, folds of her shirt shifting from the 
movement of her arms and the cords of muscle flexing beneath the plain 
cloth. She takes aim, releases, arrow slicing through the air and thudding 
into the target.

Kassima watches Paltair's technique carefully. Hoping to learn a thing or 
two from the competition? *Her*? Nahhh. Turning to face the target, she 
takes a deep breath and allows her expression to fade into impassivity; 
Binky the Bow is raised until the point of the arrow seems aimed 
sufficiently target-wards. "C'mon, Binky," she whispers. "Do it for the 
glory. Do it for the greenriders. Do it so 'twill nay have t'be getting 
superior looks from Master Scruffy yonder." Whether this encouragement of 
her bow helps or not is hard to say; her aim is good enough that *probably* 
her whistling missile hits the target somewhere, but still she's 
inexperienced, and besides--maybe Binky the Bow doesn't *like* greenriders.

Caral observes the target shooting intently. He looks around, "Anyone else 
going to take a shot?"

Rytran heads over from the central bowl.

Rytran joins his fellow candidates, watching to see which competition is in 
progress.

Scruffy grins, hoisting his bow up and nocking an arrow easily. He winks at 
Kassima for some inexplicable reason, hauls back on the bowstring, and lets 
his arrow fly. Thwwwwwwip! Thock!

Caprina steps up to the line, grinning widely. She takes her own long bow 
and pulling it back. She lets the arrow fly with less than perfect grace and 
smiles again flirtaciously at Scruffy without even looking to see where the 
arrow's gone.

Mikael heads over from the central bowl.

Mikael wanders over, looking curious. "What's up?"

Caral shakes his head gently, laughing.

Scruffy waggles his eyebrows at Caprina, one of which is split by a small 
scar. "Nice shot, little lady. Excellent form." Leer.

Rytran ambles over to the area where bows and arrows are lying in their neat 
stacks. He hoists a bow to his shoulder, then fills his quiver with arrows. 
He is ready. He strides confidently toward the shooting line, flashing a 
grin at his fellow candidate-competitors. "Is it too late for me to join?"

"You'd better nay be picturing that target as me," Kassi warns Scruffy in a 
low voice. "I don't even have any fun and cringe-worthy parts t'aim 
towards." Most of her attention is on watching to see where the various 
arrows hit, but she spares a moment to wave her bow-free hand towards the 
new arrivals before reaching for a second arrow to ready.

Paltair shakes his head and tsks, not saying a word otherwise.

Caral looks at Rytran, "Not a bit. Take your shot."

Riane waves a bow to both Mikael and Rytran. "Archery... and, not that I c'n 
see. Juss grab a bow."

"Aim my shaft at you?" Scruffy grins, broadly. "Gentlemen don't, without 
permission." This draws a snort from Yashira, who is turning somewhat... red 
about the face.

Telgar Weyr> Paltair says, "Oh, Scruffy. You make me think of Shakespeare. 
"Do you bite your thumb at me, sir?" "Nay, sir. I do bite my thumb, but not 
at you, sir.""

Kassima informs Rytran cheerfully, "But you can't name your bow Binky. That 
name's taken!" Oh, dear, watch her splutter as Scruffy gets off his zinger. 
Splutter. Splutter. "Aye," she finally drawls back, "but is that supposed 
t'reassure me where you're concerned? Is your wrist all right?" That's to 
Paltair rather than Scruffy, with a glance towards the reddened patch of skin.

Telgar Weyr> Mikael  lol's:)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima wants to be Mercutio! Here's my fiddlestick, here's 
that shall make you dance! ;)

Telgar Weyr> Yashira says, "I only like that play when it's got Mercutio in 
it."

Mikael grins....apparently he likes archery. He looks to see where people's 
shots are landing....

Telgar Weyr> Rikki gets bad flashbacks to her freshman year of high school. 
Final exam, Literature. Act out a scene from R&J

Rytran's eyes narrow as he nods, first to the referee, then toward the 
target. He slowly withdraws an arrow from its quiver and raises it so that 
it is level with the bullseye. Carefully, thoughtfully he places the groove 
of the arrow against the string of his bow, raising the bow to his shoulder 
with a fluidity earned during his many sojourns to the shooting ranges at 
Boll. Pulling the string taut, he pauses, taking a deep breath and 
straightening his aim every so slightly. Then with a huff of concentration 
escaping his lips, he fires.

Scruffy leans toward Kassima, crooning, "Do you want to be reassured, little 
lady?"

Caral smiles, watching Rytran.

Paltair nods to the greenrider, "Aye, ma'...Kassima. It'll just be a bit of 
a welt. There'll be no sign of it by the morrow." He cuts a very puzzled 
glance at Scruffy, then back to the greenrider, then just shakes his head.

Mikael notes someone good shot with a cheer..."I think I'll watch for now. 
Looks like you have quite a few people on the line already."

Telgar Weyr> Mirielle wows.. lemme guess.. something's happening at the lake 
shore. :)

Telgar Weyr> Rytran says, "Telgolympics, Mirielle!"

Kassima spares a whistle of admiration for Rytran's technique before 
composing her features into a simper aimed at Scruffy. "Oh, reassure me, 
do," she encourages--then in her more normal voice: "Another ten-point 
deduction for you couldn't *hurt* m'chances any, after all."

Telgar Weyr> Mikael says, "Howdja guess?;)"

Telgar Weyr> Mirielle duhs! I read that post,.. really. :)

Telgar Weyr> Kassima finds herself wondering. If a man wins the gold medal, 
or a woman the bronze, will we have to invent Pernese sex change surgery? ;) 
(Yes, I'm kidding. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Mikael owwwwwwws!

Mirielle heads over from the central bowl.

Telgar Weyr> Mh'al hides the scissors and other sharp objects. :D

Telgar Weyr> Rikki sniggers.

Telgar Weyr> Kassima twiddles her Emasculator and whistles innocently. ;)

Paltair looks around, "Well, am I up again now? Or, is there to be another 
that might be taking a shot at the target?"

Telgar Weyr> Mh'al hides himself, too. :)

Flannery folds her arms, rocking back and forth on her heel as she watches 
her son fire his arrow. Her fist tightens in quiet exultation as she sees 
Rytran's shot fly true. "Yes!" she mutters, not seeing where the arrow's 
destination might be.

Caral looks around, "Any other archers?" he asks.

Flannery shrugs to Caral, smiling, "I'm sitting this one out."

Caral grins at Flannery, "Oh, why not give it a try?"

Flannery grins broadly. "Oh, that's nice of you, Caral, but I don't want to 
compete against the candidates. Not fair to them!" She chuckles and winks. 
"Actually, I'm a little old for the thrill of competition..."

Mirielle glances at all the activity, and shakes her head. Muttering 
something about being too tired for so much activity, she goes off in search 
of cleaner clothes.

Caral laughs. "Next round, then," he calls out.

Mirielle heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the shimmering 
lake.

Paltair looks around quickly, "Well, then. Here goes." He squares his stance 
to the target before pulling out another arrow and setting it to the 
bowstring. With eyes locked on the far target, he once again raises the 
arrow up and lines its tip with the center. "Steady. Steady." And after a 
beat he releases the fingers holding the string and arrow back. The arrow 
zings through the air to hit with a solid *thwip* at the other end.

Riane stands again at the line, this time pulling back her arrow with just a 
little more ease. She lets it go with the same *twang* sound, and steps back 
a few paces, dropping her bow. "Oi," she mutters, then turning around to 
watch the others go.

An irate looking rider stalks up the line, toward Yashira. She tugs on the 
young woman's arm, pulling her aside and saying something to her in low 
tones while scowling. Yashira's eyes widen, and she nods a few times. 
Setting her bow down, she waves a little. "Got to run - sorry - good luck 
everybody." She launches a look at Scruffy which sort of tacks on an 'except 
you' sort of sentiment, then takes off after the irate rider - who 
incidentally stinks of firestone.

Kassima raises the arm holding Binky again, keeping the bow as far from her 
body as possible--and drawing the string as far back *towards* her body as 
possible. When her fingers are nearly able to brush her cheek, she begins to 
chant, "Stay on target... stay on target...." The arrow dips once, but 
straightens a breath before being released; its flight is true, impact is 
likely--but impact with what, and where, is more a question. "Woo-hoo!" 
Kassi enthuses, whatever the result. "I *like* this bow; think you they'll 
let me keep him?"

Caprina takes the oppertunity and steps up, mimicking the others' form this 
time and shooting her arrow off wildly with a giggle. She steps back, but 
holds onto her bow to lean against.

Mikael throws a concerned look after Yashira, but says nothing but, "G'night 
Yashira."

Scruffy grins, whistling. He nocks another arrow and fires, and will 
continue to do so until the competition is finished. For whatever reason, 
he's shut up for the time being.

Yashira heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the shimmering 
lake.

Mikael looks back around..."Nice shot" he says, looking at Kassima's target.

Caral blinks as Yashira is drawn away. He shakes his head and chuckles, "Oh 
well."

Telgar Weyr> Yashira says, "Phone call. Must take. Apologies!"

Telgar Weyr> Kassima zhaiwaffles to Yashira! (And Scruffy, too. ;)

Telgar Weyr> Mikael says, "No prob Yashira:)"

Telgar Weyr> Paltair says, "Thanks for spicing it all up!"

Rytran eyes Kassima's Binky, then stares down at his own bow for a long 
time. At least he announces, to it more than to the assembled, "I dub 
thee...STIG!" He performs his positioning maneuver again, raising the next 
arrow toward the target, but this time he feels its weight, bouncing it up 
and down several times, and frowns. "Hmmm...not well balanced. Feathers not 
trimmed right..." He clucks his tongue as he places it back in the quiver, 
withdrawing another one and testing its worth. Satisfied, he places it 
against Stig's redoubtable string, pulls the string back, and releases it. 
"STIG, aim truuuue!" he hollers as the arrow flies toward the bullseye.

Paltair looks impressed, "Rytran. You're talking like a person as what knows 
his way around a bow and arrow."

Mikael grins at Rytran's antics..."So, you figure naming it will help?"

Caral observes this and nods with mock solemnity.

"Don't be jealous, Binky," Kassi consoles her bow, grounding its end and 
giving the wood of its curve a fond pat. "Stig *is* a good name, but I still 
like Binky best. Where'd you learn how t'be shooting like that?" she wonders 
of Rytran, now that Binky's emotional needs have been dealt with.

Rytran grins at Paltair. "Well, Ma was kind enough to vacation at Boll every 
turn or so. I got lots of practice!"

Rytran shrugs, setting his bow so that one end touches the dirt of the bowl. 
"Well, Paltair, it doesn't seem to hurt. And it forms a /bond/...." He picks 
up the bow and pats it lovingly. "...between archer and bow. Try it!" He grins.

Telgar Weyr> Jeroch says, "How's the olympics going?"

Caral looks around, "There are more, no?"

Telgar Weyr> Jeroch only has a little bit here but I'll come see :)

Jeroch heads over from the central bowl.

Flannery points to Jeroch. "How 'bout him?"

"Two rounds, 'twas t'be?" Kassi looks towards Paltair for confirmation. "Or 
'tis that we should be firing again?"

Caral looks over at Jeroch, gestures at the folks with bows and the targets, 
"Want to take a shot?" He looks back at Kassi, "I thought it was just the two."

Paltair nods in agreement, "Two rounds were all that was to be shot."

Jeroch's eyes turn up to meet Flannery's point as he takes long strides to 
meet up with the crowd. "Me? HAve I missed anything?" he asks, his voice 
tinged with cheerfulness.

Rytran, in a fit of generosity, hands Stig to the newcomer. "Here! Use my 
bow! Use it in good health!" He grins.

Caral grins. "All right. Last competitor!"

Telgar Weyr> Paltair arghs and has to scramble to go catch the bus home. 
I'll be back for the 2nd event. Please continue having fun. I'll idle out so 
I can keep logging.

Mirrari heads over from the central bowl.

Kassima quips with droll humor, watching the presentation of Stig, "Methinks 
you've been recruited, Jeroch. Want t'be showing us all how 'tis done?"

Mikael waves a cherry hello to Mirrari.

Caral grins, "Two shots. You can take 'em one after the other, since the 
others have all tried."

Mirrari whistles happily as she heads down the path to the lake, she waves 
to Mikael and all the otheres she knows, " Evening!"

Flannery waves Mirrari over. "You can shoot after this lad, Mirrari! Give it 
a try!"

Mirrari looks around, " Shoot? Shoot what?" she asks curiously to Flannery 
as she wanders over to the group.

Rytran points toward the bullseye...

Telgar Weyr> Rytran says, "Well, that's /one/ way to get outta competing...;)"

Telgar Weyr> Mikael notes that he is through eating, if someone wants to 
recruit him ic for the archery shoot.:)

Khelmor heads over from the central bowl.

Kassima leans lightly against the support of Binky. "'Tis bows we're 
shooting, Mirrari, for the title of best archer or somesuch; there're arrows 
and bows left unclaimed if'n you want t'be trying it."

Mirrari ohs as she spies the archery target, " Oh.. that sounds neat, 
although I've never shot one before."

Rytran takes up Stig from the ground, where Jeroch has apparently left it by 
falling asleep so abruptly. He hands it to Mirrari. "Here, lass - use Stig. 
He's very accomplished."

Mikael smiles at Mirrari..."It's alot of fun, especially when you don't have 
to worry about not eating if you miss." He looks at Caral..."Mind if I try?"

Mirrari eyes the.. uh Stig and then looks to Rytran, " What's a Stig?" she 
asks warily

Khelmor appears across the bowl, small at first but growing slowly to the 
observer's eye as he approaches. He carries a sheaf of hides under his arm 
and looks unhappy at having to come all this way.

Kassima and Binky back away from the firing line, allowing the second wave 
to take their place; the greenrider settles herself in the grass beside her 
terribly entertained dragon. "I wonder whether you'd shoot better if'n I 
painted *you* green," she wonders to Binky the Bow once she's settled it 
across her lap. Such a pity that bows can't visibly look horrified.

Caral chuckles and shakes his head to Mikael, "Go ahead. I've got all day. I 
don't know if there's a prize, though. Unless you'd like some salt."

Rytran grins broadly to Mirrari, "Stig is this handsome bow!"

Mikael grins..."Thanks. And no prize is fine, I just like to shoot." He 
looks over the available bows carefully, checking the limbs and nocks. Then 
he looks just as much at the string before picking one. Taking his chosen 
bow away from the table to allow others in, he slides one leg in and bends 
the bow over it to string it. He them gently tests the pull to see if the 
bow draws straight and to gage the weight of the pull....

Mirrari ohs and looks faintly relieved, she though that the Stig was some 
sort of creature. " So what do I do with it?" she asks being clueless at 
archery.

Caral gestures at the target in a rather sweeping, over-grand way, "Two 
shots." He's amused to be officiating over this event, though he doesn't 
seem to be taking it very seriously.

Mikael then looks at the available arrow, waiting politely to get back to 
the table, rolling them and looking down them to make sure they are 
straight, and checking the feathering. Finally satisfied, he waits his turn 
to shoot.

Telgar Weyr> Khelmor acks at RL and has to go as quickly as he came.

Caral nods to Mikael, "Go for it. Most of the others have already gone."

Kassima pipes up helpfully from the sidelines, "Put an arrow on it and aim 
it like Mikael's doing--" No, she's not precisely brimming with archery 
clues either. "And just try nay t'be hitting anybody!"

Mikael nods at Caral, "Thanks". Stepping up to the mark, he places and arrow 
on the tring and assumes the correct stance. Pulling the bow up to his 
shoulder and drawing the string at the same moment, he takes a second to eye 
the target and adjust his aim, and then fires.....resulting in a solid 
"thunk" into the target.

Caral nods to Mikael, "Great." He looks to Mirrari, "Want to try?"

Mikael nods..."Thanks. Good thing I'm wearing long sleeves or I might'ave 
needed an arm guard."

Mirrari hmms and bites her bottom lip a bit befoer nodding, " Please!"

Caral grins at her, "Whenever you're ready. Then the gentleman will shoot 
again, and you'll take the last shot of the contest." He looks around, 
"Well, unless somebody else shows up."

Mikael smiles at Mirrari..."Just aim looking down the arrow at the target."

Mikael continues, "And put the figertip of the drawing hand just at the 
corner of your mouth, that helps to make every shot from the same place to 
improve your aim."

Mirrari looks around for an arrow and tries to imitate Mikael, but the arrow 
ends up in the grass about 3 feet in front of the target

Missed target or no, Kassi still hoists Binky up in the air above her head, 
waving the bow about a bit in a cheer: "Good try, Mirrari!" The bow-clueless 
have to stick together, after all.

Caral grins at Mirrari, "Hey, you shoot like me."

Mikael smiles..."Well done, Mirrari, for a first shot. The first time I 
tried I nearly shot one of our families runners in the behind. Try again" He 
is quite serious in his praise.

Mirrari blushes and sidles out of the way, " Oh no.. he said you were next 
Mikael.." she murmers.

Caral shakes a finger at Mikael, "Your shot. Let her watch you again." He 
grins.

Mikael nods..."That's right, but then your next again after me. I've had 
alot of practice at this, is all. It's alot of fun. "

Mikael moves up to the line again, looks at the target and drasws smoothly. 
A split second to double check his aim again, arrow help in the exact same 
place as before, and he releases....with another solid "thunk" as a result. 
He smiles over at Mirrari..."See? Just takes practice."

"And a good eye, methinks," Kassi quips, propping her chin up on one fist. 
"But 'tis another thing that would likely come in time."

Caral smiles at Mirrari, gestures at the target.

Mirrari laughs nervously and tries again, " Okay, here I go.." she says and 
actually manages to get to closer to the target, about a foot and a half.

Mikael cheers! "Even better! You should try getting your own bow and 
practicing. I bet you could develop into a good shot if you did."

Caral peers at the targets, pokes them with his calipers and mutters like an 
aging craftmaster. Then he straightens up and points to Rytran, "You!"

Rytran blinks at Caral, peering up at the trader. "What?!"

Mikael cheers for Rytran!

Kassima sighs with faint regret. "Ah, well, at least we weren't beat by the 
scruffy one--eh, Binky?" Grinning, she sets the bow down in order to 
applaud. "Felicitations, Rytran--well shot!"

Caral grins at Rytran, "You won!" he replies, still shouting, partly because 
he's standing over by the target, and partly so that everyone can know of 
Rytran's triumph, "You're a good shot!"

Rytran hears cheering. He places his hand against his chest with a look of 
incredulity. "Oh! You mean I /won/!" He leaps to his feet, raking his hand 
through his hair. "Wow, thanks!"

Flannery cheers Rytran's win enthusiastically, shouting, "That's my boy!"

Mikael grins..."I guess that naming stuff really *did* help."

Caral grins at Rytran and calls, "Want some salt?!"

Rytran winks at Mikael, picking up Stig and waving him gently. "Well, it 
depends on the personality of the bow, and whether it /likes/ the name you 
gave it - I think this lad did!" He raises the bow over his head and pumps 
it once in the air.

Rytran peers at Caral again. "Salt?! What for?"

Caral pockets his calipers and ambles back away from the target, leaving the 
arrows still in for all to admire, "For a prize," he tells Rytran. "Or would 
you rather a tuft of wool? Six bone buttons carved into the shape of 
fellis-flowers?"

Rytran peers at the buttons. "Ma? Do you like these buttons?"

Flannery glances over at Caral and Rytran, grinning, "Whatever you want, 
son. They're nice buttons."

Kassima grins sidelong at Flan. "Say 'aye,' Flan--they're likely prettier 
than salt!"

Rytran grins, cupping his hand, palm upward. "The buttons, then! Thanks!" He 
beams at Caral.

Flannery turns to Kassima with a smile, "They'd look pretty on a gather 
dress. Maybe I could have one made in time for the hatching..."

Mikael claps and whoo hoos for Rytran.

Caral laughs, "Aye," he says, "They're prettier than salt." He walks over to 
Rytran and produces the aformentioned buttons from a belt-pouch. He's got a 
lot of buttons in there, and he has to search through the plainer wooden 
ones to find six of the bone fellis-flower ones. He drops them one by one 
into Rytran's palm.

Maireth flies in from above and lands in the waters of the lake.

"Gowns are a bit heavy for Hatchings... but," Kassi confesses, her grin 
broadening, "I wore one when 'twas watching Kay Stand, the third time, so 
'twill nay say aught. Y'might be commissioning Master Katlynn if'n you've 
the marks; she does lovely work... if'n you're sure t'specify nay pink lace."

From dragonback, L'han waves broadly, "Greetings!"

L'han climbs down Maireth's side to the ground, using his straps as handholds.

Rytran waves over to L'han! "Hey! I won buttons!"

Mikael waves back to L'han...."Hiya L'han!"

Rytran grins at Caral, closing his hand around the buttons and carrying them 
with ceremonial solemnity to his mother. He pulls up her hand, opens her 
palm, and deposits the buttons into it. "There you go, Ma! Use them as you 
will!"

L'han gives Maireth a good patting, tucking his riding gloves into a strap, 
and peers over to Rytran with a grin, "Buttons? Were you going to be doing 
some mending?"

Mirrari was off looking at the lake, " Buttons?"

Caral laughs and shakes his head, "It's what I've got," he says.

Kassima rises to her feet with a slow stretch, though Binky remains by 
Lysseth's side. Evidently she wasn't kidding about taking the bow home. 
"When's the next event t'be?" she wants to know. "G'deve, L'han--and good 
show, Rytran, giving those t'your mother rather than any other of the ladies 
in your life." She's teasing him, yes.

Flannery beams proudly as she rattles the buttons in her hand. She turns to 
Kassi with a look of pride, "well, maybe I'll just keep them, as a souvenir. 
But perhaps Master Katlynn might create something nice with them. 
Hmmm....decisions." She clutches her filled hand against her collarbone.

Kassima offers a suggestion: "There're several buttons; mayhaps ask a Weaver 
t'use some of 'em in something, and keep the others as tokens?"

Flannery shrugs, looking down at the buttons. "Maybe. I think they'd be 
handsome on a sweater, too...

Mikael smiles..."I'm sure they'll look great on almost anything."

Caral looks at Flannery and shrugs, "I've more if you want them," he observes.

Flannery grins at Caral. "Well thank you, Trader. I think these will be 
enough for what I want to make with them, but I know where to find you if I 
decide to do something else with them..."

Caral grins at Flannery, "Ahh," he says. "You're doing better than I. I'm 
never sure where to find me. And you are of course entirely welcome."

Kassima taps a finger against her mark pouch. "Are salt and buttons the main 
thing you're trading in?" she questions Caral, one eyebrow arched sky-wards 
inquisitively.

Flannery peers at Caral's pack. "Hmmm...and wool? Is the wool spun or unspun?"

Caral looks back at Kassima, "Well, yes and no. I've a few odds and ends. 
Like buttons. But I went up with salt, for the herdsmen. They've got few 
marks, so I've traded a lot for wool, which they've got a lot of." He hasn't 
got a pack, at least not with him, but he looks to Flannery and replies, 
"Most of it's just raw. Some of it is washed and carded. A little bit is 
spun, yarn and thread. I've got a few bolts woven, as well. They may not 
have marks, but they're handy enough people."

Kassima nods, but with as much regret as understanding. "Naught much I could 
do with salt or wool or buttons. 'Twill wish you luck selling 'em elsewhere, 
though--where's the salt destined, the Bakers' center?"

Caral shakes his head, "No. For the people, and their herds. Caprines die 
without salt. So do people, come to think of it, if they don't get enough in 
their meat."

Telgar Weyr> Jeroch says, "Sorry about leaving with no warning before. My 
dinner was burning"

"Ah," says Kassi, "a'course--forgive me, I misunderstood. Can't say I much 
care for salt m'self. I'll have t'be trusting the Bakers t'see there's 
enough in the food since I'm nay inclined t'be adding the stuff."

Caral nods to Kassi, "People in remote landlocked holds have a hard time 
getting it. It seemed a good risk." He shakes his head and makes a sour 
face, then grins.

Mikael nods at Caral's comment...."Gotta have salt, for animals and humans 
too."

Caral nods to Mikael, "I may still make out, if the weavers want this wool," 
he says. "But I've probably lost my shirt on the venture." He shrugs, as if 
this isn't a matter of much import.

Mirrari hmms as she half listens to the conversation, looking out over the 
lake,

"Well, y'never know; Katlynn might find a use for it," Kassi philosophizes, 
meandering back to her dragon and picking up Binky once more. "I wish you 
g'luck with it--and the rest of you, a good afternoon, if'n I'm nay seeing 
you again. Might be back for the next event, but I'm nay sure runner racing 
is precisely m'strong point."

You place one hand on Lysseth's neck and she warbles down at you fondly. You 
grin and scratch her eyeridges once before climbing up onto her lower 
neckridges, using the riding straps and Lysseth's thoughtfully offered foreleg.

<*> Flannery grins at Kassima. "Thanks. I'm following you..."

<*> Flannery waves to the assembled and goes.

<*> Flannery heads in the direction of the central bowl, leaving the 
shimmering lake.

<*> Donovyn heads over from the central bowl.

<*> Caral smiles, waves back. He settles down, sitting on a rock.

<*> Lysseth spreads her wings to their full extent, bringing them down with 
a rush of wind as she leaps nimbly into the air.

You spring into the air and catch the thermals rising from the bowl floor to 
carry you aloft.