Medieval midterm activity: Archery! on Quidditch Pitch

Francis Leonay

August 14, 2011 3:22 PM

Medieval midterm activity: Archery! by Francis Leonay

As it had been three hundred years since the birth of Leith Clurican – one of the founders of Sonora and its first Headmaster – the school was spending the year celebrating. Students had already participated in a jousting tournament before midterm, and they knew that their Midsummer celebration would take on a 16th century theme. However, those who had stayed at the school over the midterm holiday would be able to take part in further activities: supervised archery, helmet design and candle-making workshops would be taking place at specified locations throughout the break. A local historian, Francis Leonay, was staying as a visitor at the school for the two week break, and was leading the workshops. At eighty four years old he was still surprisingly mobile, and he was so enthusiastic about history that it was easy for him to make the subjects interesting to his pupils.

Today was archery, which was held out on the Quidditch pitch. A number of large targets – easily larger than some of the first year students – were arranged in a row, and a glimmering straight line had been charmed onto the grass several feet back. Once students arrived to take part in this activity, Francis would fit them with a firm leather wrist guard, measure them up for the right size bow, and present them with a quiver of arrows. Unlike the lances that had been used in the joust (which Francis had provided from his educational resources collection), these arrows had no special safety features; it was up to the students to employ common sense and not maim each other. Francis would then instruct students one by one how to hold the bow, and to pull its string back, and to make sure to keep it far away from their face – he didn’t think he would be popular with the faculty, board of governors, or groups of angry parents if he was responsible for the loss of an eye. The most important rule, however, was not to shoot anything when the targets glowed red – this was the time for students to go collect their arrows. Anyone caught even raising a bow during this time would be sent away and banned from participating in any further activities during midterm. Providing students behaved, however, they were free to play at archery as long as they liked. Francis had run the helmet design work shop the previous day and would demonstrate candle-making tomorrow, then these activities would repeat again and again until midterm was over, enabling everyone present to take part and develop their skills.

“Ye come to try luck at firing an arrow?” the gray-bearded man greeted an approaching student. His outfit was a reproduction of authentic sixteenth century peasant’s attire, and made him seem somewhat older than he would otherwise have appeared (making his speed and strength all the more surprising). Chucking, Francis guided the new arrival to his stash of wrist-guards.

(OOC: If you need Francis, just tag him. Otherwise enjoy posting with each other!)

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Derry Four

August 15, 2011 12:38 PM

Loose! by Derry Four

Derry was already exuberant from winning the tournament for his age level (though, honestly, he almost felt bad about that; Kitty had been an awesome opponent, and it was really only his superior size and a surprise unorthodox manuever that had given him the edge; but he was still glad he hadn't lost to a tiny first year girl - that would just be embarrassing) and the upcoming holiday was uplifting his spirits even more.

Last year, he had returned home for Midterm - there had been a formal party he had been expected to attend at the Sinclairs - but this year he'd had no pressing engagements, he was still a little put out with his parents for lying to him for eleven years, and Sonora was offering awesome stuff to do, so he had decided to stick around over winter break this time.

Case in point: archery. That was where he was right now. He was hold a genuine bow and arrow and how unlikely was that to happen at home? Very unlikely, that's how unlikely. Not least because that was how Hamlet died and so it was in poor taste to use arrows around him, but Mom's overprotectiveness would have prevented it even if the family ghost had died by any other means instead. Here, though, Derry could shoot targets full of arrows and nobody would be upset by it.

So that was what he was doing.

He stood out on the Pitch, a bow in one hand, a leather guard on that arm, an arrow notched on the bowstring as he sighted down along its length to the somewhat fuzzy-looking target dozens of feet away. He loosed and he flinched a little as the fletching cut his knuckle and his arrow plowed into the ground about ten feet in front of the target.

It was his best shot yet. The rest of his now-empty quiver was scattered all over the pitch, most of them veering off to the left or the right instead of going straight.

Readjusting his tricorner hat (he was, of course, dressed entirely in colonial garb which still gave him a few centuries on the guy running the archery, but the style was at least more appropriate to bow-and-arrow use than school robes - Hamlet wasn't dressed much differently, after all, since he had actually been a colonist), Derry glanced over at his neighbor and remarked, "I probably should have worn my glasses for this."

Under normal circumstances, his eyesight was good enough to get by without them - he could read the board just fine and spot bludgers in Quidditch without assistance - so he didn't wear them often, but for something like this where precise distance was so critical . . . he realized belatedly that they might have been useful.

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